每當世代交替，似乎就會出現緬懷過去美好時光的爭論，於是各種褒貶就會落在新世代的頭上，當然是貶多於褒，什麼草莓族，月光族，能力過剩(或不足)，這些連出處都搞不清楚就被拿來用的詞通通都用在貶低新的世代以保持自己地位的崇高，殊不知十數年前上一個世代交替時也有同樣的情形發生。只因為自己的方便就任意用詞貶低他人，還出現前後矛盾的狀況；如果我們再過十年是不是也會繼續貶低下個世代呢？我想是會的，只要看看現在ＢＢＳ上自翊為老人，什麼都看不慣的那些鄉民，我想未來如何可想而知。又說到自己周遭的事情。在退役的前夕，總是有許多人會來聊兩句，也有很多貴人教了我許多寶貴的經驗，但是更多的是來強調自己的優越，或是沒頭沒腦的說：＂你們這些年輕人或許能力還可以，但是就是不受教，不服從＂；這些人讓我覺得很有趣，如果不是與他們共事這麼久，或許還會被他們唬弄過去，但是看看他們的工作態度和效率，更別提內涵，就會了解他們為什麼這麼珍惜他們的頭銜和威權。仔細想想這個糟糕的時代和勞方弱勢的工作環境是誰製造出來的，另外想想社會對剛出社會的年輕人的要求是什麼？要顧家，孝順，吃苦耐勞，願意領受低薪作長時間重複性的工作，還要高學歷，注重外表，有禮貌，有紀律，多方面發展，關心各種議題和活動，有理想和願景...捫心自問，擁有良好條件的人為什麼要接受低待遇？以威權強勢去壓迫他人，又抱怨為什麼別人都不出來說話(附和自己)；在求生存都有困難的環境中，卻抱怨年輕人都沒有夢想，不能投身於崇高的事業。啊！這已經不是單純的妄想了，而是不顧現實的推卸責任，如同南方公園電影中那群掀起戰爭的母親們一樣。最後送上抱怨音樂界大不如前的歌曲一首，希望能讓大家忘記我的滿腔苦水：
Don McLean - American Pie
A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.
But february made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn’t take one more step.
I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.
So bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."
Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in rock ’n roll,
Can music save your mortal soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
Well, I know that you’re in love with him
`cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.
I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died.
I started singin’,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."
Now for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone,
But that’s not how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen,
In a coat he borrowed from james dean
And a voice that came from you and me,
Oh, and while the king was looking down,
The jester stole his thorny crown.
The courtroom was adjourned;
No verdict was returned.
And while lennon read a book of marx,
The quartet practiced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died.
We were singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."
Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter,
Eight miles high and falling fast.
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.
Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause the players tried to take the field;
The marching band refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?
We started singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."
Oh, and there we were all in one place,
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again.
So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick!
Jack flash sat on a candlestick
Cause fire is the devil’s only friend.
Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage.
No angel born in hell
Could break that satan’s spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite,
I saw satan laughing with delight
The day the music died
He was singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."
I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news,
But she just smiled and turned away.
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before,
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play.
And in the streets: the children screamed,
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most:
The father, son, and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died.
And they were singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."
They were singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die."
