“Come mothers and fathers throughout the land, and don′t criticize what you can’t understand. Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command; your old road is rapidly aging. Please get out of the new one if you can′t lend your hand.” From The Times, They Are a-Changin’, written by Bob Dylan.

In case you’re studying for your English exam…

Despite Dylan’s best efforts two-thirds of a century ago, the times they always have been changing. Some of us feel a little queasy about the exponential speed that makes these changes seem mandatory; the young’uns catch on faster because they have fewer cobwebs in their brainpan.

For example, it seems a lot of older folks — say, above thirty-five — are clutching their pearls while bemoaning the death of cursive writing. I was one of them, but only briefly. Ever since we beat Germany at world warfare, the art of cursive died a protracted death. But by the time Baby Boomers started pumping out the next round of rugcrawlers, even they — we — couldn’t read each other’s cursive. Now with all these tubes and wires in everybody’s pocket, we don’t even need know how to type. Just speak up and your smartphone will take your dictation, wreck your spelling by turning misspelled words into brand new words that are wrong, change words at random and complete your thoughts by converting your prose into Aramaic. Continue reading “Brainiac On Banjo: A Rose Is a Rose” →