The youth has become a generation of senior citizens in
training, all lying in wait for their AARP card and social security stipend.
Perhaps I sound a bit alarmist but the whole scene reeks of a nightmare
combination of stale piss and Aqua Velva.
When I was younger I had my fair share of run-ins with the
elderly. Usually these consisted of either being chased off some fist-shaker’s
lawn, or sitting on a couch with them watching either re-runs of old shows or listening
to them talk about the same things over and over while a looping news program
played in the background. I used to think, “How do these people do this? Are
they senile?”
Looking back on it, they probably were, but they were old.
Old people are allowed to get forgetful, crusty and boring; they earned it,
after all. I just hoped that I never became that way.
The future hit sooner than I had ever dreamed. I was
recently visiting an acquaintance and the day’s program consisted of watching a
marathon of some hideous new television show’s episodes on a Netflix stream.
As I sat there wondering if I had anything better to do
(sadly, I didn’t), I looked around and noticed the humble abode was chock full
of people glued to the television set with stares not unlike one has while
watching the dryer spin around and around at a Laundromat. At each episode’s
conclusion, the watchers would whoop it up and talk about how enthralled they
were, how “crazy” the episode was, before popping on the next one, rinse and
repeat.
What has the world come to? Has the American youth always
been this hideously boring?
Maybe, but I guess I never noticed it. In other places, the
show goes on. I lived for a time in Beirut where much of the nightly goings-on
would make Caligula blush. A good time amongst people my age surely didn’t
consist of obsessing over the latest cultish television show.
I’m lost. A man without a country. I don’t fit into the
senior citizen youth culture that has come to dominate. Conversations are
increasingly dull. People of my
generation can drone on incessantly about whatever happened on the latest episode
of a cable show, but ask them their opinion on something important like what’s
going on in Afghanistan, or if they think Vladimir Putin is angling for a new
Cold War, and all that comes out of that fruitless attempt at discussion is a blank
stare followed by a quick return to raving about how bad ass Hal from Malcolm
in the Middle is.
Maybe I’m too critical and should just resign myself to
embracing the whole thing. Maybe I’m the curmudgeon. Maybe I’m out of touch.
Probably. I suppose it’s high time I strap on some Depends, lull
myself into a state of Benzodiazepine warmth with a stiff Valium/Oxycodone
cocktail while settling in on the couch to watch twenty-three episodes of “Game
of Thrones” in a row. The high life if there ever were such a thing.
I believe Patrick Henry once said something like, “Give me
Convenience, or Give me Death.”
If he didn’t, he should have. It’s a fitting motto for the
Millenial generation.
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