The M-Word on a Sunny Day

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I hate the word “Millennials”. This is no secret. I’m in the fuzzy peripherals of that, and whether I qualify depends on what the older person is complaining about – or even worse, writing about as if it’s an ethnographic study. Let’s curb that potential offshoot and embed some tweets.

It is gorgeous outside today. I went on a walk.

There’s a sizable portion of the 50-65 year old age group right now who would love to give a speech about their first home being a shithole because they weren’t so damned picky. They would also go on a “When I was your age” spiel about how much more together they were by 31, owning a 1,600sqft house with a nice lawn. They would blame it on the M-words themselves for not being exactly like them.

But! Back to nice weather.

I was tweeting this while lying on a park bench, right by a busy street at the edge of a long green space, with a large fountain that isn’t up yet for the season. Fresh air, sunlight, exercise, and relaxing with the simplest pleasures.

That last one really doesn’t have anything to do with the gorgeous day. I walk frequently. I’m usually listening to a podcast when I’m walking. Podcasts are better to listen while walking than music, because talking doesn’t saturate hearing like music does, and I can still pick up on audible cues that make me work better with my surroundings for safe, functional walking.

Now that’s just prejudiced. How can we declare the M-word to be a derogatory slur and sue older people for discrimination or harassment when they use it?

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