History Begins When You're 12 (And Ends When You're 35)

I generally try to be fair, but not always. Sometimes I just want to go off on an unhinged rant and say the most outlandish things. It’s great fun. The difference with me, though? I might be semi-serious while speechifying but realize I’m almost certainly semi-full of shit too. So, it’s always leavened with humor. I’m self-aware enough to realize that I don’t know what I’m talking about a good percentage of the time. It’s not just some asshole in a white undershirt spewing venom in a kitchen. I try to keep my bitching light.

One of my repeat rants has to do with “young people” having no knowledge of anything that happened before they were 12 years old. As if they’re the center of the universe, and world history began on their 12th birthday. I used to say the day they were born but have tweaked it along the way. I don’t think people are fully engaged with anything before they’re 12, and memories are spotty prior to that age. Yes, I reserve the right to update my crackpot grievances as necessary.

But it does seem to be true. Younger folks, in general, are shockingly ignorant of popular culture and world events that came before them. And I don’t think that was the case with my generation. Not to the same extent, anyway. So, it’s easy to formulate a good rant around the subject. You can use phrases like “narcissistic little shits,” and “you’re the most important people in the world, your mommies said so!” Again, great fun.

Ask someone born in the 1990s or later about Johnny Carson, if you don’t believe me. They’ll have no idea who that is, even though Carson was one of the most famous people in the world for three decades. And not that long ago either. I find it amazing. I don’t expect deep knowledge on the subject, but general awareness is warranted, I believe. If you challenge them on it, they’ll either get indignant and say something like “Why do I need to know about some old dead guy that’s not relevant anymore?” Or some other infuriating and foolish thing. Not relevant? Boy, oh boy. Or they’ll just shrug and say, “It was before my time.”

Before my time. Man, that really pops my corn. You mean like the Beatles, one of my favorite bands? Or The Andy Griffith Show, one of my favorite TV programs? Or the first three Charles Portis books, some of my favorite novels? All before my time. I mean, when the Beatles broke up, I was probably watching Captain Kangaroo and eating apple sauce. Sure, the Captain had sort of a Beatles haircut, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Mr. Green Jeans dropped acid with Brian Jones or Donovan.  But I don’t think there was much additional overlap. I had to go back and find that stuff on my own. Because it was before my time.

Why not just say I’m not very curious and can’t be bothered to put in the work?

However, and here’s the part some of you might not like… It happens on the other end too. Sure, you might know Jack Benny and The Honeymooners and that the Vietnam war started in the 1960s. But what kind of music do you listen to? Oh, the exact same stuff as you did in high school and shortly thereafter? Interesting. And did you just say, “Lighten up, Francis?” Isn’t that a Stripes reference? That movie came out in 1981.

I admit that I’m somewhat guilty of it too. There was a big chunk of my life, when I was helping to raise our kids and trying to cobble together some semblance of a career, when I was not engaged with the culture at all. Not for lack of interest, but because I was maxed out: tired and stressed and about to sob straight into my Number 1 value meal (no pickles) because of the crushing anxiety. And that’s where it ends for a lot of us. But I felt bad about it. I’d always been in search of great stuff, and it was very important to me. I did not celebrate the end of the hunt and was never OK with it.

Shockingly enough, some people act like they’re heroes because they stopped searching. People pretend to be heroic about the most ridiculous things – like not contributing to a 401k fund or using an enormous amount of salad dressing. Or not knowing Johnny Carson. And if you challenge them on the fact that they’re still listening to Styx every day, they’ll get all indignant and call you a hipster. Then they’ll insist that there’s been no good music since 1985, or some other date that almost always falls between high school graduation and kids/career.

No good music? Man, that really blackens my salmon. It’s simply not true. The stuff you like might not be on the radio, but you can find it if you look for it.

Why not just say I’m not very curious and can’t be bothered to put in the work?

I will not pretend to be as plugged-in to the culture as I was when I was 20. For instance, someone told me the other day that he bought Bad Bunny tickets, and I kinda-sorta know the artist, but don’t know if I’ve ever actually heard any of his music. The part that blew me away, though? He said he paid $500 per ticket, and the show is going to be in the same place I saw Tom Petty a few years ago. A big-ass venue. How could somebody be that popular and I probably wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup, and certainly wouldn’t recognize any of his songs? Even if I don’t dig the music, I should at least know a bit about it. Right? I view it as a failure.

So, it happens on both ends. Feel free to mock me in a white undershirt.

But our kids are nearly grown now, and things are settling down a bit. And, amazingly enough, I realize that I still have a hunger to find great new stuff. It was suppressed for a while, but I’m happy to see that it isn’t completely dead. It’s not as powerful as it once was, but it’s still there.

Oh, there’s nothing wrong with revisiting old favorites from the past. I do it daily. Hell, I just listened to The Knack. But I’m looking for new things to love too. Be it music or TV or books. I’m going to Philadelphia to see a Swedish band called Viagra Boys in a couple of months, for instance. They’re a new band I like. And I’m fascinated with the past as well. I own thousands of old-time radio shows, and scans of hundreds of old magazines. It’s never been so easy to absorb so much. You used to have to learn about it, then search for it. And that second part could sometimes take years and/or cost a wheelbarrow full of dollars. Now you just need to learn about it. Everything’s available.

My wife’s not super-thrilled that the hunger is still alive, I think she’d prefer I turn into a “normal” adult, but she knew what she was getting herself into. I don’t understand shutting yourself off – to the stuff that came before, or the stuff that’s coming now. The thought of it makes me crazy, and I sometimes get all worked up about it and wave my hands around in the kitchen. But it never gets too insane, I always try to keep my bitching light.

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