Recently I wrote an opinion piece defending the younger generation against some ill-informed allegations by teacher and writer Christopher Bantick, who claimed that we young people were a bunch of so-and-sos who didn’t know our Mahler from our elbow. This kind of rant pops up from time to time, usually penned by a greying baby boomer whose own generation was once the forefront of all that was innovative and radical, defying their own elders by embracing free love, dabbling with drugs and rocking out to controversial bands like the Beatles and Rolling Stones.
These rants irritate me when, like Bantick’s, they are poorly written and lack a coherent argument. But for the most part, they make me sigh, and think, really? Do today’s youth really need to keep defending ourselves in this bitter generational war, just because we have different musical tastes and wear our hair differently? Can’t we all be friends?
So I think it’s time we laid this tired topic to rest and forged a new path of peace and harmony (don’t laugh) between the generations, recognising our differences as being both valid and valuable. It is important I practise what I preach so I will start by declaring what I love about old people.
Old people are awesome. I love hanging out with them. I prefer to think of them as “people rich in life experience”. It’s great. They haven’t quite got the hang of Google yet so instead of looking up the answer to something, they will discuss it among themselves, exploring tangents, probing buried memories, and often emerging with a deeper and more valuable solution to the original problem.
OK sometimes it’s wrong and it can often take half the day to get there, but I have a warm nostalgia for the time when we used to sit around muttering “What’s that actor’s name? You know, the one with the hair. And the eyes. He was in that movie, you know, the one with explosions. It’s on the tip of my tongue …”
These days we just jump on IMDB on our smartphones and the debate is over in 10 seconds. Boring!
So there, older folk, please accept my pledge of friendship. But if I’m really going to put down my weapons and accept a truce with the other generations, I should also extend a hand to the teens. Teens. Oh god. Teens are terrifying. Whenever I see them I cross to the other side of the road and keep my head down. They scare me more than a pack of slavering rottweilers. Look at them, with their piercings and their dyed hair, glued to their iPhones, hell, they don’t even know how to spell any more!
Martin Luther King once had a beautiful dream that one day little black boys and little white girls could play without racial divides. I dream too, that one day the younger and older generations can sit down and have a cup of coffee and laugh about the absurdities of life without secretly thinking that the other knows nothing at all.
tales from the roof 
I spent new years eve with my neighbors, aged 64, 65 & 76. Just the four of us. It was awesome.
People are people………. young ones have an amazing energy for life which can be intoxicating….. you just have to wind them up a bit to find it sometimes….. old timers have wisdom [sometimes] and if you shut the fuck up and slow the fuck down, you just might learn something [or not].
On the other hand…… young people can be ignorant, racist and bigoted…. so can old people…….. I guess people don’t change that much…… they just get older or younger….. and each generation makes the same mistakes…….. and so it goes…… just ask Aristotle, he wasn’t too happy with young people either.
Generally speaking I like people, but I do prefer my dog….. but if I had to choose, I’d probably hang out with young people, I just don’t think that they would put up with me.
Terry