I wanna be your sledgehammer.

Really, I don’t. I would prefer to be left alone, but here we go again.

On Sunday, I will be 58 years old. As I have mentioned before, I am an elder Gen-X. I actually remember when all this generational nomenclature began. I thought it was poppycock, and I still do to a certain extent, but you can’t deny that people born of this particular swath of time (1965-1980) have experienced more of a Groundhog Day effect of living t…