When Generations Collide

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For the past forty years, my father has owned a very cool 1930 Model A Ford truck. This truck has always been drivable, but recently my dad has spent some time turning a wrench and improving the mechanics. As you can see from the photo on the left, this whole project has my dad's name written all over it. He and the truck are the exact same age and it really is fun to see his enthusiasm build as he works on it. He spends hours out in his barn tinkering on engine parts that have been in place as long as he has been alive.  He has even begun to find parts for the little green truck on "the internets." I can't wait until he finds out that he can watch Model A repair tutorials on "The YouTubes" to complement his newly found habit of internet shopping.

Along the way, he joined the local Model A club. I chuckled when the membership committee came to the house to interview him, because apparently they have standards for membership. Funny enough, the monthly meetings take place minutes away from our house. It's perfect. The local community center swells with dozens of old retired guys who love their old Fords.

Here's where the story gets good. As we all know, every good club needs a newsletter. In order to save money, most organizations choose to post their newsletters online, but not this Model A club. Nope, they still print their newsletter on paper and send it in the mail to each of the members.

Last week my folks were traveling, so when I picked up the mail for them, you can imagine how surprised I was when the recent Model A Club newsletter showed up.

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It seems to me that this is one of those times where the club just may need some new blood or at a bare minimum they may want some input from anyone with a working knowledge of the English language. It just doesn't seem like something I should even say out loud to my parents when they get home: "Hey Dad and Mom, I picked up your mail. Let's see, you got your energy bill, the phone bill and oh by the way...your Vibrator came in the mail." See what I mean? It just doesn't sound right to me.

It is also crucial that this club change the name of their newsletter before they ever choose to post it on-line. The last thing I need is to find my mom helping my dad use Google to search the internet for "The Vibrator." Something tells me they would never use their computer again. Ever.

Quietly making noise,
Fletch