| by Dr. Jeffrey Lant Peggy Lee sang an insinuating song in Disney's "Lady and the tramp" that pretty much summarizes how we Baby Boomers feel about ourselves -- and those who are not ourselves. (Released in June, 1955, the film was one of the first that cashed in on my always media driven generation.) "We are Siamese if you please. We are Siamese if you don't please." Face it, we (and I must include myself, riding hard towards 65) are the Most Important Generation in the History of the World. Of this there is not nor will there ever be a whiff of disagreement, capiche? Today, as we massively approach 65 (at the rate of 8000 per day), one truth about the Baby Boomers remains consistent: everything we touch is transformed forever and stamped with our irresistible brand. That's why you must know about us... and why we don't need to know nearly as much about -- you! Let us begin... Baby Boomers are smarter than you are. We are the first generation that transformed collegiate instruction from the preserve of the well-to-do and privileged into a de rigueur Rite of Passage, mandatory for anyone with pretensions to professional standing and deference. As a result, higher education is now ineffably part of the American Experience, something that we mortar boarded Boomers have now bequeathed to future generations. They should be grateful. Without us , they would have found it more difficult to party hardy at Alma Mater, at inexhaustible 18. You owe us.... and we shall surely collect from you... as we draw our senior serenity from your Social Security fund. Thanks. We are not organization people. If the prototype of our parents' famously regimented generation was "The man in the gray flannel suit" by Sloan Wilson (published 1955), we want it to be clear: we own no flannel, gray or otherwise... and wouldn't be caught dead wearing this mantel of corporate thraldom. Jimmy Buffet and margarita soaked parrot heads are more our style; we have set the pace for casual apparel, worldwide travel and insipid ditties like Buffet's, the anthem of a generation that wishes to get wasted more often with better company. Let me be very, very clear: we hate regimentation. We don't take orders well. We cannot abide and will not do the mundane, prosaic tasks that keep organizations ticking along. Whereas my mother worked hard (for free) doing things like writing and printing (with a hard-to- jiggle gelatin press) "The Percolator" newsletter for Puffer School, Downers Grove, Illinois, my generation has No Time for such lowly (much needed) tasks. We have Better Things To Do. As a result, organizations of every kind, in these Boomer dominated times, are hard hit by a degree of indifference, apathy, disdain that would have horrified community-spirited mum and her "he's a good provider" hubby, your dad. We do have better sex, and oftener. Okay, you're wondering, whether ye be of pre- or post-Boomer vintage, you're wondering, I say, whether all the scuttlebutt and (sometimes) scurrilous tales of lubricity and pagan Woodstock love-in-the-mud stories could possibly be true. They are. And even more so. We discovered, early on, that we liked our bodies tremendously... and that others, gay and straight, liked them, too. It was all "if it feels good, do it." And it still is. The fact that our parents Strongly Disapproved of such glorious, indiscriminate minglings made it inevitable that we should have and enjoy them the more. After all, for the first time in human history, we, the bona fide possessors, owned our bodies, not the state, the church, or even our "forsaking all others" spouse. "Till death do us part," indeed; quaint, antediluvian idea that. Divorces skyrocketed, so did couples counseling... but sex gave us something other than Scrabble to pass away a few hours, as pleasantly (and freely) as possible. We took to it with avidity, enthusiasm, and (too often) boredom and bruised feelings. Perfection, in anything, is difficult to find... but we keep the search going. So there. We aim to live forever, and remain forever young. Now to the crux of the matter, the focus of fervid Boomer interest and actions. Since we as a generation either already own or will own shortly own (at the demise of our careful Great Depression touched parents), every single thing on earth worth having... we are now engaged in the hot pursuit of eternal youth, being the first generation to secure forever for itself. Oh, yes, make no mistake about it. Having gathered the lot, we want to keep it "forever and ever, hallelujah." This means obsessive focus on the foods we ingest (and avoid), the pounds we put on(or take off), gym bodies and sweat inducing exercises. It's all part of our massive assault on Eternity; for let's be clear: whatever we have wanted, we have secured. With only this, the biggest, the Big Prize to go. We regard eternity not as a miracle, but as a problem, greater perhaps than any other problem we have assayed and solved... but still nothing that we can't handle in the hard-headed, inexorable fashion we have made our own and which has affronted, aggravated, and threatened other, lesser folk. We care nothing for that. After all the stakes are enormous this time. So far, we have challenged and rebuilt ideas, cultures, even an entire civilization, now we want more, the whole enchilada. Now, indeed, is our past our prologue, for we are determined not to go gentle into that good night. (Dylan Thomas, 1951) Absolutely not. We know what we want. We are at work on its achievement. And in due course, if not sooner, we shall seize Eternity and savour it. This is our destiny., and yours. Truly it's better than any science fiction book ever written. In all previous generations, for every person in them, eternity was unimaginable, stuff for philosophers and theologians. Now, each us of us, in the most pivotal of generations, can not merely dream, but (soon?) own this, too. After all, millions of us are now at work on thousands of pathways to eternity. One of us Boomers will find the way, you betcha. With consequences to fall out later... when we, massively, have gone on to Something Else. |
2.png )
