Unthinkable, utter blackout.  I can only imagine.

The year is 2017 or 2020…or maybe tomorrow.  Some evil force has rendered the world’s satellites impotent and the planet is cast into darkness.  Literally.  No cell phone service, no television, no cash registers, no ATMs and no place to spend a dollar anyway.  We’re dead meat.

Such is the premise for a new project my friend, Barbara Bryan (pictured above as she dictates it to me).  Barbara’s imagination is way more evolved than mine and this was her idea and I’m fascinated by how her mind works.

Here’s the premise: The younger generation is sick of the complaining by all of us old vieux chnoque (french for geezers) who detest using electronic “devices”.  They’ve relegated us to “concentration camp” type nursing homes to get us out of their way. Are you following this?

When the big “black out” occurs the younger generation realizes it doesn’t know how to talk to anyone without acronyms and a hand held device much less how to spend down time on the front porch with no particular agenda other to appreciating  nature. No Pokeymon Go, no Facebook, no Snapchat.  No idea how to exist in a meaningful way.

I’m not being critical.  I’m just making an observation of life in the 21st century. Our parents probably felt the same way when we quoted Ringo Starr.

Back to the story …in the nursing home/concentration camp, the geezers have been busy. We have rubbed sticks together and set fire to the furniture for warmth and light.  Someone has trapped some squirrels and they are roasting on the spit fashioned from a crutch.  Dandelions are being sautéed in the squirrel fat.

An especially creative geezer is using the last of the potatoes to make bathtub vodka.  We are having a ball.  Ole Tinker pulls out his guitar and we break out into an off-key husky version of “Twist and Shout”.  Marie is wearing her new t-shirt proclaiming “Old is the New Black” and Norma, Bubba and I are  doing “The Bump” in our wheelchairs.   Ruthie is doing wheelies while yelling “Tara, come home.”

Back to the millennials who have been running the world.  They get together and formulate a complete thought.  “Let’s go free the geezers and they will teach us how to exist in this barren society,” says the only one who can still write in longhand. Fat chance.

In the final chapter, an envoy from the guvment comes to the nursing home/concentration camp.  They beg us geezers to come rejoin society and save the world.  Do we agree?

Barbara isn’t sure yet..  I’m waiting for her to decide. Stay tuned. In the meantime, I will continue my campaign to hold a “No Media Day” where we cut everything off and try to find a meaningful past time other than electronic devices – household appliances and running water excluded!