It's sad to ask but it's sadder to do crowdfunding. This is how Putos Modernos presents itself (we better leave it at P.M.), the direct marketing agency that seeks to break everything to sell ideas or products that, according to its business card (online), it creates to survive modern life. Between Eugenio's joke and the typical Christmas phrases of a brother-in-law, he entertains with posts like "there is a lane to circulate, another to overtake, a third for people in a hurry and the one on the left to see fragile masculinity go by" or "there is the toxic people, the very toxic and those who bring fish to the office.” But he wins “the world needs a brand that doesn't want to save the world.” More so now, in the face of that very heavy storm of good resolutions that December gives us.
All fun. All good. But I miss the recommendations of the P.M. (they have also triumphed in Filmin with their forty-something triathletes who take the elevator to the gym and the influencers who lose coverage and education in their rural retreats), every time Constitution Day arrives. Or, what is the same, every time my birthday comes around. I would not dare to analyze what the Constitution has meant for us, the massive boomers, during these 45 years and three days of history that have clothed it, but how it has colored my life (beginning 11 years before its approval). Because they have been 45 forgotten birthdays. 45 years of parties and bridges for everyone. 45 years of constitutional nothingness. To change the close hug, the Lyonnaises with cream and the lick your nose for the capital televised kisses and patriotic speeches. It's been 45 years of, oysters! It slipped my mind! I was skiing!
And I do not care. I would like to say that I don't care, because I am finally a PM ("modernity is running stressed to mindfulness class, searching for cheap flights from a very expensive cell phone, combining down and bare ankles. Modernity is you. It's me. "We are all. And whoever is free of guilt should throw the first gin and tonic"), but I know that is not the case. I wear socks and although I have served them, I have never ordered a gin and tonic in my life. The good thing is that I have learned that it would have been worse to celebrate at Christmas, New Year's Eve or Epiphany, holidays that have suited (almost) all of us always and since (almost) forever.
