Or then again, maybe he doesn’t
There is, near
as I can tell,
a unique worthlessness to
people listening,
or pretending to listen,
to stories about
other people’s grandkids,
and an even greater meaninglessness
to telling others about yours.
Elderly folks who’ve accomplished
less than nothing in their lives,
feel that their
having somehow been involved
in bringing yet another generation
of mini-clones of their useless selves
to fruition
is somehow important and matters.
They are willing to pretend to listen
to other oldsters in the same
sinking lifeboat they’re in,
while waiting for a breath pause
so they can jump-in
and begin their epic narratives
about their own oh-so-special grandkids.
But remember, they are
talking about this shit
because they have failed to achieve
anything noteworthy or of
genuine importance
during their long, pointless
meaningless lives.
Winston Churchill's
last words were,
“It’s all so boring.”
He was 90 years old,drank too much booze everyday
smoked cigars incessantly,
was fat
and saved the free world.
Witnesses are clear
that his final words
were NOT,
“I only pray, fervently, that my
grandchild, young Evelyn,
makes the j.v. water-polo team.”
Nobody,
and I mean
NO ONE
is interested in the antics,
achievements,
dreams and schemes
of your 4 year old
or your 10 year old.
Your 13 year old
or especially your 16 year old,
(Although, perhaps, your 23 year old
“free-spirited, artiste,”
granddaughter
might garner some interest,
but it likely won’t be
in the same spirit
as your intended
anecdotes would prefer).
Your grandkids
have ceased
even the slightest
thoughts or concerns about you
(if they ever had any at all)
just as all humans do,
forgetting our utterly
forgettable ancestors,
until we are
in our own last stage of life,
decrepitude settling into our bones
and our souls
and either consciously
or unconsciously aware
that we’ve wasted whatever
miniscule opportunities
and talents we may have
once possessed —
But, by god,
we have these
grandkids
who’ll show the world
what a great and exalted existence
and a grand bloodline
of mediocrity
is all about —
After all,
they are YOUR grandkids,
So indeed, please, tell us more. . .
We can’t wait!!!
Nobody
wants to
hear
about your
grandkids.
Not even
if your name
is
Sir Winston Churchill.
