It’s a real pain hanging out with younger types, particularly Millennials. I’m talking about beautiful and successful Gen Y-ers. It’s a nice consolation to be commonly mistaken for one of the younger set. Yeah, I know that every one of you has the same problem. Apparently, time has treated me with kid gloves, so my younger friends view me as an anomaly once they know my year model. After a couple of little pre-cancerous skin blemishes at age 20, I never willfully played in the sun again. The result is I’ve been spared further visible sun damage, for now anyway. The wheels could fly off at any time, any day. But no worries, the Botox party will then commence
The past weekend, at a charity slash holiday party, I found myself the center of “Guess How Old She Is!” Game, yet again. It’s very similar to “Pin the Tail on the Donkey,” except I am a sentient being who finds the whole thing boring. I’ve grown accustomed to it, since passing the Four-Oh mark. It’s not a very fair game, as once it’s initiated, everyone’s immediately alerted that I must be over 30. Otherwise, the game wouldn’t be fun, right? As I scan the room for an exit, I casually advise everyone that vodka soda is a magical tonic that preserves youth.
Across the room, a jolly group is beckoning me with scandalous laughter. Away I fly. Things are more enjoyable here, away from the Age Detector Beam glaring it’s ray upon me. Far better fodder, since at the moment it isn’t about me. Instead, the hindquarter of an adjacent young lady is scrutinized and labeled. Her workout, while effective, may well push her into a different demographic. More giggling. Much better conversation in the gossiping group. Never mind that I’ve probably had all my own aspects listed and adjudicated. Then another leitmotif of mine sounds: “Ummagosh, you look just like Brittany Spears!” I’m sure you guys are aware that for Millennials, pop culture references are the primary form of connecting with others. I am slightly offended. I’m not put off at a comparison to the early version of Brittany, but that I could be associated with the bald version. Folks, admittedly I’m solidly out of touch with much of girlie pop culture so I was unaware that Brittany has of late decided it’s not a negative to be attractive and returned to her former golden-tressed glory. The klatch assures me she is gorgeous and my feathers smoothed. Maybe hanging with the youngsters is not all bad.
There was an open bar and the alcoholic inspiration led a flock of Millennials to the dance floor. The gorgeous, slender head of PR at a publicly traded company shuffled seductively to a large Christmas tree which dominated the dance floor. She proceeded to attempt an amorous embrace with tree. Finding it prickly, she twirled gracefully around, then down, bending over and backing up to twerk the tannenbaum. People, I’m not joking. Here was an otherwise intelligent, beautiful young lady twerking with a Christmas tree. I am far to considerate to post a link to video of this. It does exist however. Better to use your imagination on this one.
Why am I describing last Saturday night to you guys? Well, it is funny stuff and all but the downside is that I know these young people and how they think…and how they have voted in the last couple of elections. It’s not that we Gen-Xer’s don’t have plenty of immature, idiotic actions under our collective belt. But there aren’t enough Gen X voters to make as much of a difference. The concern is that Millennials are comparable in size to the Baby Boomers. The way they vote is obviously the direction we will be carried, as a nation. It is an overwhelming consideration. Most all of these Millennials have been stewed in the progressive statist propaganda. Since my younger friends have become interested in voting, any discussion with them regarding politics ends quickly, as conservative ideas are dismissed and thrown into a blender they believe yields a smoothie of evil against women, the poor, and the otherwise “disadvantaged.” The degree to which Gen Y has been brainwashed is an intractable threat to our way of life, our civilization.
Is there hope for them, and thus the rest of us? Will these youngsters ever see the error of catapulting into office and sustaining there a self aggrandizing fascist? Will they ever understand the resultant destruction of our future prosperity, even our very existence as a people? I find hope wherever I can, at least Gen Y has turned on Mr. Obama by not buying Obamacare.
Never mind, for now. For when the clock struck 2a.m.-ish, the Princess-who-looks-a-little-like- Brittany Spears sped away in her U.S.-made carriage to her castle and her sweet, innocent 5-year-old whom she sometimes affectionately refers to as “Pol Pot.” And she swore with her fist in the air: As God is my witness, at least one dear boy will be spared the usual degenerate indoctrination that has contaminated the minds of our young.