Tuesday, January 16th, 2007
I’m about 2/3 through Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs and I can see why Arlo recommended it. Some of things Klosterman talks about are interesting, some I take issue with, but most seem like the type of ravings that a particularly astute fellow would bellow after 10 bong hits and an hour of watching Double Dare on the Games and Sports Network at two in the morning. Uh, in Pacifica. I’m certainly not coming out of this reading a devout follower of the Church of Chuck, but I’d love to get drunk and chat about it with someone.
I apparently exist in a social vacuum wherein no one will lay claim to my allegiance. Traditional media insists that “Generation X” is defined as anyone born between 1965 and 1977. On the other side of the fence, (and believe me, this varies more and is somewhat less specific) I’ve seen the media define Generation Y (or “What Came Next,” or any of the other banal shit they use to define generations these days) as anyone born between 1980 and 2000. I just checked Wikipedia, however, and it defines Y as being born between 1978 and 1999. Whatever; the point is I was born in 1978. The Point Is that I’m either the youngest Gen Xer or the Grandaddy of the Gen Yers (I mean, christ, I’m sharing that classification with some 6 year old shit right now, and I’m 28).
All in all, who cares what fucking generation I fall into? Some do, I shouldn’t, but I make a note of it just because Klosterman’s book is about all the popular culture Gen Xers, people who fall into that age range, experienced and it is the shit I grew up in. Sugary cereal, fucking Star Wars and Saved by the Bell. The major difference, and perhaps the reason I shouldn’t be considered part of Gen X is that while I experienced all the same stuff, it was at a vastly different level of perception. These kids were 15 years old in 1985, I was 7. It’s funny that Klosterman relates that Empire Strikes Back was the first movie he attended in a theater, it was my first movie-going experience as well, but being 3 I don’t remember much beyond being vaguely scared of Dagobah and wanting to own Yoda as a pet.
The other place we part ways is Music; I feel comfortable saying that I didn’t really listen to music in any way until I was a freshman in high school and I got my first CD player. My first CD ever: Weird Al. My second CD ever: Pearl Jam Vs. That puts me so out of the realm of musical consciousness that I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but there you go. Everything I know today about 80s music (and boy oh boy it still ain’t much) I’ve learned in the last 5 years.
I think I’m a weirdo, though. My memory is horrible (bordering on tragic, which borders on having some sort of early Alzheimer’s) and I don’t remember things well at all. Talk to me about something that happened 6 months ago; you’ll see. In the end, I’ll probably need whazzmaster.com just to chronicle my life for me. “What? I knew a guy called ‘the madd scientist’? What?”