Achy Breaky Heart I am really anoldie. I do not know the Kardashiansthough I remember a Robert, one of O. J. Simpson's good friend who, withoutformally joining the dream team, stayed in the background so that he can hanky-pankywithout being legally accountable. I went to schoolin Kentucky and Texas half of the 60s and the start of the 70s. I did not listen to country music because Igrew up worrying just how many Patsy Clines one can sing. I did not know of Billy Ray Cyrus except Irecall his name associated with a line dance craze I watched but did notpractice. Touted as one of the best incountry western, I got versed on Billy Ray's "Achy Breaky Heart". The uppity crowdof Washington DC considered the song one of the worst songs ever written. But Iwas clear America was better off doing line dancing rather than dusting off theGarand or oiling the Enfield rifle, hoarding an M-16 or AK-47, and palming a9mm Beretta, nursing a grudge on an acquaintance, a classmate, or a neighbor. I taught at CNMIPSS (I subbed until Ms. Janet of SVES thought my extensive travels were goodfor Social Studies) bringing a wide range of global teaching experiences reflectedin the pedagogical ease, comfort, confidence and composure I manifested in theclassroom. I head thisdirection because in the last four years, I was considered a wordsmith tofriends who read my ST writings; I also taught Oral English to Universitystudents, lectured in macroeconomics to foreign students at Shenyang AerospaceU, tutored students at Shou Wang School, and held English conversations at thebar down the street that grows cannabis in its front pots. I knew a lot of twerps, but I never heard of"twerking" before. A portmanteau of"twist" and "jerk", twerking is a sexually suggestive wayof dancing in the US deep South where getting down "dirty" includedthose who "twerked" their butt down to and up from the floor. So when Miley Cyrus popularized the style, Irealized how far back I had calcified. Idid not know Miley Cyrus, and when I was told that she and Justin Biebertwerked in video, I quietly asked, "Who is Bieber?" (I resided in Prairie Canada in the late 70sbut that was before he was a twinkle in his parents' eyes.) I gotstraightened out on the boyish Canadian who ludicrously sang "Baby"with deep voiced Ludacris, then got introduced to a scantily clad Miley as achild of Billy Ray Cyrus of Achy BreakyHeart. That left me holding the tailend of twerking. Some of my students inChina wanted to know what twerking was, or, if they already knew, wanted toknow if it was legal in America so they can learn it well and be ready to danceit when they got to Uncle Sam's shore! Now media triesto paint an "achy breaky heart" scenario on Obama after the midtermelections. As midterm elections go, theincumbent did not lose as much compared to recent Presidents during theirterm. Obama was not on the ballot; manyDemocrats distanced themselves from the White House rather than deal with themanifest ire of the white male, many of whom were southern Democrats who votedRepublican. Mary Landrieu,Louisiana's lady Senator was the only one who had enough guts to point out theobvious, that whites had problems with the President given his Kenyan andAnglophile pedigree. Surprisingly, thelady was ahead in the actual voting vs. poll count though she may not survivethe run-off. But if she does, that willbe one "achy breaky heart" for the Republicans I will not mind. Like Obama, a Democrat in Hawaii, I am of the Abe Lincoln Republican Party againstthe likes of George Wallace. Call himnames but BHO is one smart dude. Whitemales of both parties have machismo and race problems with the Brit-Kenyan-Hawaiian-IndonesianAmerican and vented it in the polls, a reflex after the fact. Commentators after the last election whoanalyze the current political situation says that of the waged culture war, theliberals and the progressives won! Now come theconservative Bishops of the Roman Catholic Church who call Francis the ProtestantPope when he opened up church discourse without much reservation or secrecy;the bishops are up in arms over the Vatican's welcoming stance on the LGBTcrowd and divorcees. In WesternAlberta this summer, I told a colleague, "I want to be old, to look old,to be listened to for the wisdom of my experience rather than the cosmetologyof my skin. I am old, and I loveit." Folks obsess at looking young;nothing is more ridiculous than someone trying to fit into tight denimsmarketed for people more than half their age at three inches less on the girth. Virtual reality is where America's buttlives. "Achy breakyheart" is probably not the metaphor I'd use to lament the coming of oldage - wrinkles on the brow, lines under the eye lashes, spandex battle at thebulge, the debate on the extra sugar on the tea, and tiffs with those who can'thandle Francis. I am a real oldie who is a Goldie, though, no longer pliant to twerk! j'aime la vie yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today. participate. in all, celebrate!