AS IS the usual, one thing will always lead to another. In this case, I was distracted from my pleasant reading about the time of the 70s when I came across a section that pertained to my generation, the baby boomers (those born between 1946 to 1964), and also referring to us as the ‘me generation’. What?
True enough, four googled sites confirmed this. We were the rightful owners of the tag. Apparently, it was writer Tom Wolfe in the 70s who coined the term, after social observations had described our particular age-range as having narcissistic tendencies. Wiki, in its introduction on the subject said that “The phrase (meaning Me Generation) caught on with the general public, at a time when “self-realization” and “self-fulfillment” were becoming cultural aspirations to which young people supposedly ascribed higher importance than social responsibility.”
However, another age-range, those born between 1982 and 1994, the millennial generation, had likewise been labeled as narcissistic; to the point of being called by Time in 2014 as the me-me-me generation or the I generation. So, what gives?
Whatever connection you can salvage out of these perhaps-useless bits of trivia, have a go at least. Who knows, it might even prove to be useful at drinking sessions someday. Truth is, I really have nothing against the younger gens and the millennials anyway. My sons belong to that age group. (except this one complaint perhaps: if only they’d let go of their gadgets once in a while.)
However, there is but one observation I’ve gotten from this ongoing discussion on the characteristics of generations online (which I never knew existed). Starting with our parents, those who survived the last world war, down to the present generation Z, there will always be something unfavorable to be said (usually a harsh critique) of the other.
I remember my parents saying “During our time…”. That was always a time to dread as it was always followed by asking us whatever happened with you and your generation? In the same breath, during drink sessions and gatherings with friends and carpool dads, it is almost always that I hear about their complaints about the younger set, their children.
With that being the case, I can only surmise that, perhaps sociologists and behaviorists must be in the wrong somewhere; despite the circumstances, what they must have churned out so far about the characteristics of people must still remain that: roughly theories. Maybe accurate profiling on people types only exist in movies.
From one generation to the next, it has always been “I love my own”. Already, I hear a grunt or two from my youngest, complaining about how we boomers see things. That’s okey, I guess. When the time comes, let’s hear it from his children’s side.
