In Praise Of Younger People

One of the worst things you can be is irrelevant and out of touch. It happens to a certain extent as you get older, there’s not a lot you can do about it. You don’t have to go gracefully into that good night, but you can look pretty foolish trying to pretend you’re something you’re not.
That’s why I love Facebook. It connects me to younger people in their 20’s and 30’s without having to show up at their local club or show dressed like them and trying to act like I fit in. I get to hear their views on the world, I get to laugh at their jokes(the ones where I get the references), and I get to learn about new shows and movies and music.
If nothing else, the pop culture stuff really makes it worthwhile. Sometimes it takes me longer to catch up, but I do get there eventually. There is so much good music I would know nothing about if it weren’t for younger people who are just as passionate about music as I was when I was younger, before the world had beaten some of the joy out of everything. I suppose that I am living vicariously through them in a way.
There’s nothing wrong with that. People live vicariously through their children all the time. A lot of the time, they mock them and distrust them as they do it, which makes me sad. Most of the people I know who are my age blame every bad thing in the world on the younger generation, and that is their loss. I don’t like stagnating. I don’t like the thought of the world passing me by. I don’t like the thought of becoming bitter and miserable.
That’s the other good thing about having a bunch of younger friends. They call me out on it when I do seem bitter or out of touch, and I encourage it. I think it’s funny, but I also think it’s essential if I want to stay even a little bit vital and connected. I don’t get angry over such silly things, I’m not that frightened and insecure. I grew up with a father who my brother and I teased mercilessly when he said or did something that was out of touch, and he laughed along with us. I learned to take good natured ribbing in stride. In short, my parents taught me how to bust balls, and how when done right, it was actually a sign of respect and love. If you listen, you can get something out of it and learn to laugh at your own mistakes. As a result, I can take criticism without getting too defensive, and I have parents who are in their 80’s, but still doing better with technology and culture than a lot of people I know in their 50’s.
So whatever, I realize that by this point, most of my younger friends have stopped reading, because they don’t really enjoy having to read long posts on their phone when there is so much more entertaining and interesting stuff available to them. Damn millennials, destroying the printed word! But if any are still hanging in there, thanks for providing something precious and irreplaceable to me. You’re all that’s standing between me and some of the things I hate most, and I appreciate it.