This is a Gen-Xer's parody of Baby-boomer narcissism and self-congratulation. I ran it before, but I'm so proud of it, I thought I'd run it again. May I'm a narcissist given to self congratulation.
Yesterday I saw an ad on TV inviting Baby Boomers to become members of the American Association of Retired People. I thought AARP membership was automatic, but apparently you have to call a 1-800 number to join. Anyway, the ad had lots of Baby Boomer stuff in it, and it left me feeling nostalgic.
We were born in 1946, and lived in a suburb. Our father wore a gray flannel suit and was played by Gregory Peck. Our mother, played by June Cleaver, was a housewife. She always wore high heels and a string of pearls.
Life in the suburbs was stultifyingly dull and comformist. We watched "The Mickey Mouse Club" and "Davy Crockett". Mom and Dad liked Ike and played canasta. They listened to Perry Como on The Hit Parade.
We were restless. Then Mr. Elvis Presley of Memphis, Tennessee, had a world-historical epiphany. Music, he found, could be about sex! This was to have enormous implications for us Baby Boomers.
In 1960, having read some books by Jack Kerouac and C. Wright Mills, we were even more unhappy. We decided to have a "meet-up" in Port Huron, Michigan, to talk about it. We wrote The Port Huron Statement, which laid the blame for the failure of social democracy in America at the feet of old people, who are stupid. Then we got our guitars and sang folk music long into the night.
In 1962, we joined the Peace Corps. We spent a year teaching villagers in Botswana how to grow their own food. They were amazed and grateful. This was very meaningful time for us, and we still talk about it a lot.
1964 saw the start of the British Invasion. The Beatles, sporting their signature "mop tops", appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show. Since we hated comformity, we all agreed to grow our hair long.
Meanwhile, we fought for passage of the Civil Rights Act and forced the racist President Lyndon Baines Johnson to sign it. This was one of our many Finest Hours. We were assisted in this by some Negroes, including Doctor Martin Luther King Jr. We no longer say "Negroes."
It soon came to our attention that our Nation was at war Indochina. This war was started in 1962 by Lyndon Johnson, unbeknownst to the Kennedy Administration. We promptly held some "teach-ins" to bring ourselves up to speed, and decided we were against it.
One summer we went to San Fransisco. We took a lot of drugs and wore flowers in our hair. Eventually we ran out of money and returned to the suburb, where the doctor gave us some penicillin.
After the sores healed, we involved ourselves in politics. Some of us got "Clean for Gene", while others signed on with Senator Robert Kennedy, who appealed to us by thoughtfully using his thumb to push his hair out of his eyes. Unfortunately, Senator Kennedy was assassinated, which caused us to Lose our Innocense. (This happens to us periodically.) Anyway, we went to the Democratic Convention that year and raised about six kinds of hell.
Disillusioned by the election of Richard Nixon and the persistance of war and injustice, in 1969 we gathered in Woodstock, New York, for a music festival. According to a recent poll, 47 million of us were there. It was really cool. You should have been there too.
In the 1970s we enrolled in various "human potential" programs. This does not necessarily make us flakey. Also, Disco occurred, but nobody has taken responsibilty for it.
In the 80s, we made lots of money while remaining true to our youthful ideals.
In 1993, we were ecstatic when one of our own, Bill Clinton, became President. In 2001, when another of our own became President, we were more ambvilant.
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It's hard to believe how fast life has gone by. It's almost like a dream, or something we made up.