My father's generation spent many sleepless nights fretting a world dominated by radiation and nuclear carnage. My world is focused on finding as many opportunities to expose one's self to massive doses of the Sun's rays as inhumanly possible.
Never before has mankind been more aware of the harmful effects of the suns rays and yet my two sons could very well grow up in a second nuclear age like no one has seen since early in the last cold war.
We continue to find indoor diversions in the name of automation and entertainment.
All meant, with unbridled intentionality, to provide us with more time for outdoor endeavors.
Idiot box heroes continue to receive attention and praise worthy of branded t-shirts and cell phone skins, most of which are outdoor enthusiasts that we marvel at from our rent to own couches.
The collective desires of overlapping generations, all seeking their documentable identity, pour out of the media outlets de' jour and spill onto the killing floor of public dissemination.
I remember growing up that cartoonish pictures of lemon yellow suns with pointy rays were all the rage. Decals ironed to shopping mall t-shirts, patches sewn on knees of flared pants, admirable medallions standing proud over the bills of plastic webbed ball caps.
Now the sun's rays are merely a high-def image ironically radiating from our flat screen dreams.
There is so much to share on this topic, but now I must go.............outside.