The Wheel Breaks the Butterfly

There are times I am starting to feel like maybe I've been alive a little too long. I live in a house most of whose technology is well beyond my comprehension and I'm grateful we have techno-savvy children, but most especially that our daughter lives nearby, to help me out on everything from setting up Amazon Prime on the television to how Google Home can make my life easier, assuming I ever learn how to use it. (I'd almost forgotten about that blue dress ). 

I'm from the middle of the last century and have been showing signs of wear for quite some time as this one has progressed, often dragging me along in its wake. Don't be mistaken; I'm very happy to be here especially since the alternative and its inevitability grows more certain and frightening by the day, but I've long since lost my sense of comfort with much if not most of what we say and do with and to one another.

Big things, like the Global War on Terrorism that we've since shortened to just war; affordable medical care for all those who need it; equal rights for everyone meaning equal rights for anyone; disagreeing without being disagreeable, and most recently, yet again, my right to NOT KNOW things exceeding anyone else's right to tell me.

What do I mean, exactly and specifically? 
Ask Gywneth Paltrow and then tell me why no one asked Chris Martin. 
-bill kenny