Like many of us, the economy when we entered the work force relegated my friend to work for a Baby Boomer. They called themselves "Yuppies" back in the day, but trust me, it's all the same creature.
Lucky for them, their parents and many of them lived through H1N1, or what is colloquially known as Swine Flu. Fitting name, if you ask me, but I digress...
Most health and government agencies have strongly encouraged anyone diagnosed with this particular brand of influenza to stay home until their symptoms are played out. My friend attempted such a responsible act. However, the person for whom she works decided - from his comfy cottage at a nearby lake - that his work was so pressing, it was worth her putting herself at risk by going in to work, not to mention putting all her co-workers at risk because she is still contagious.
My friend, being the responsible and dutiful individual that she is, reluctantly complied. Once she arrived at the office, however, there was little work to speak of and, in fact, she had it completed by mid-morning and was left with no other work to do.
Only in a Baby Boomer's previously infected mind would this make sense.
Are you certain we shouldn't develop a special strain of this infection to just rid the world of a few of them?
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Your music sucks
Therefore, you do NOT need your own station on Sirius Satellite Radio. Calling it "Feva" isn't going to make it cool. You're old. Deal with it.
Another shrimp on the barbie
A recent trip to the grocery store provided me with an excellent opportunity to observe and later report on the incoherent behaviour of Baby Boomers. I was standing at the dairy cooler, already well within the the yogurt I was reaching for. Out of the right corner came an arm, which was attached to a Baby Boomer's typically pudgy and disproportionate body. Said Baby Boomer was wearing his oh-so-cool-and-everyone'll-think-I'm-really-from-the-Outback hat.
His arm collided with mine, yet naturally there was no cause for an apology on his behalf. I decided at the time, since I'm a Gen X'er and therefore a much bigger person, that it wasn't worth my time to get upset over this clear breach of etiquette. Though I did make a small mental note of it for later.
Meanwhile, his wife stood by with her big, dumb eyes staring blankly at both of us.
A few moments later, I visited the magazine rack. For reasons unknown to me, this same male (presumably...I didn't lift up his skirt or anything to double-check) again reached ACROSS me while I already was in the process of pulling the magazine of my interest toward me.
Again, as you might have guessed. No apology, no ackwowledgment. Big, dumb-eyed cow of a wife standing blankly by. And I'm certain that he was so interested in reading the latest in Crochet News that he simply forgot himself momentarily...at my expense.
Farther down the magazine rack my husband stood catching up on his favourite periodicals. I decided to join him. Chatted him up, even. So much was I into our marital conversation that I leaned against the magazine rack, thus expanding my figure another couple of feet thanks to the large winter coat I was wearing at the time. I pulled up a copy of Spin Magazine, and pretended to be oh-so-engrossed in the latest happenings of Pearl Jam.
Now, you must understand, I do not care in the least for Pearl Jam. Nothing personal, just not my particular taste. Nor did I like them the first time they released their "10" album. Regardless, I feigned interest. Why? Because, predictably, Mr. Outback just HAD to read up on Green Day.
Sorry, buddy, a few decades too late for you to even know who they are. But here's the rub. Once Outback figured out I was with my 6'5"-foot husband, and since I refused to move because I KNEW he was going to want in where I was (everyone does), it was only then that he begrudgingly and barely audibly uttered these words:
"Excuse me."
Needless to say, I wasn't inclined to acquiesce to his request. I kept feigning interest in Pearl Jam, refused to move and Outback was forced on his way.
Yep. Two can play at your stupid little game.
His arm collided with mine, yet naturally there was no cause for an apology on his behalf. I decided at the time, since I'm a Gen X'er and therefore a much bigger person, that it wasn't worth my time to get upset over this clear breach of etiquette. Though I did make a small mental note of it for later.
Meanwhile, his wife stood by with her big, dumb eyes staring blankly at both of us.
A few moments later, I visited the magazine rack. For reasons unknown to me, this same male (presumably...I didn't lift up his skirt or anything to double-check) again reached ACROSS me while I already was in the process of pulling the magazine of my interest toward me.
Again, as you might have guessed. No apology, no ackwowledgment. Big, dumb-eyed cow of a wife standing blankly by. And I'm certain that he was so interested in reading the latest in Crochet News that he simply forgot himself momentarily...at my expense.
Farther down the magazine rack my husband stood catching up on his favourite periodicals. I decided to join him. Chatted him up, even. So much was I into our marital conversation that I leaned against the magazine rack, thus expanding my figure another couple of feet thanks to the large winter coat I was wearing at the time. I pulled up a copy of Spin Magazine, and pretended to be oh-so-engrossed in the latest happenings of Pearl Jam.
Now, you must understand, I do not care in the least for Pearl Jam. Nothing personal, just not my particular taste. Nor did I like them the first time they released their "10" album. Regardless, I feigned interest. Why? Because, predictably, Mr. Outback just HAD to read up on Green Day.
Sorry, buddy, a few decades too late for you to even know who they are. But here's the rub. Once Outback figured out I was with my 6'5"-foot husband, and since I refused to move because I KNEW he was going to want in where I was (everyone does), it was only then that he begrudgingly and barely audibly uttered these words:
"Excuse me."
Needless to say, I wasn't inclined to acquiesce to his request. I kept feigning interest in Pearl Jam, refused to move and Outback was forced on his way.
Yep. Two can play at your stupid little game.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Are you f**king kidding me?!?
A couple of weeks ago I was asked by the powers that be at my workplace to prepare some "notes" in the form of a memo detailing what, specifically, made my job difficult and frustrating. Now, we have to assume that they already KNEW that my job was difficult and frustrating, but being lawyers they simply wanted it in writing. Also, nothing pleases a Baby Boomer more than knowing they've inconvenienced and wasted the time of someone else.
Take into consideration that I've been here over a year now. My former co-worker actually quit her job over the things that made her job (working for the same lawyer as we were) difficult and frustrating. At one point there were weekly meetings with Human Resources and the object of our frustration and difficulty which, naturally, resulted in absolutely NOTHING. I quickly put an end to those meetings, pointing out there there was, well, no point.
So, all of that being said, you can imagine my resentment that all my previous communications in this regard went completely unheeded. However, putting that aside, I decided that I would go along with it if for no other reason than to make them sorry that they asked ME to prepare any such memorandum.
Eight pages later, I think I hit the nail on the head and left no room for any ambiguity. The same thing was asked of Humpty (Monsieur Difficult Frustration) in which he could detail the things about me which annoy him. Where mine was put together in clear black and white, with grammatically correct paragraphs and numbering, his was literally scribbled illegibly on a half sheet of yellow notepad paper.
Enough said, if you ask me. Clearly, I'm NOT the problem here.
Regardless, many of the issues raised, valid as they were, had been completely disregarded. Were it not for solicitor-client confidentiality, I would actually post here the memorandum I prepared for your own judgments, but alas, I cannot.
Somehow, in their twisted Baby Boomer Brains (or lack thereof), many of the issues I pointed out were completely unacceptable (am I the only one who thinks forging client signatures is, oh I don't know...WRONG?) on the part of Humpty, they instead twisted around to make it appear that I should be the one correcting these mistakes.
Last time I looked, it wasn't my name on the Law School Diploma.
Anyway, naturally nothing has changed since other than the relocation of my office and the complete and utter disruption of my work which is only now - 4 days later - getting close to resembling the controlled order it once was.
Since it was not MY idea to relocate my office, I offered no assistance to help, even when asked. This was met with surprise and probably some offence, of course. Apparently, I'm supposed to help facilitate the effective screwing over of my working life. They forget that I'm NOT a Baby Boomer and therefore I have no inclination to f**k myself over. It's my observation that Baby Boomers will willingly take it up the butt at every opportunity, but this again is another difference between our respective generations.
Further, my filing cabinets, which were in quite good, LOGICAL, numerical order prior to the move were also relocated. Logically, LOGICALLY, one would have thought that were you to remove the files within said cabinets prior to moving the cabinets themselves, you might take notice of the numerical filing system they were in and thus once moved, you might reinstate them into the same, orderly numerical order.
But that's just crazy-talk! Needless to say, this was not done. In fact, it's become clear that Baby Boomers are not numerically inclined whatsoever. This much is evident by the manner in which the file folders were replaced. I have to admit, it was quite entertaining this morning watching one Baby Boomer trying to assist another Baby Boomer - the latter one having recently suffered from a stroke (the 4th such life-threatening ailment in recent years - how many more chances does Humpty think he's got? More on that in another post, Faithful Readers) and therefore not altogether "with us" - in locating files which, thanks to their new and unfathomable order, were for all intents and purposes 'unfindable'.
And yet I'm - ME - supposed to get a handle on this and still produce large volumes of work with inestimable efficiency and prowess.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.
If I seem a bit more venomous than in my previous posts, I can assure you it is with good reason. Logic escapes Baby Boomers even when you set it out in an 8-page memorandum they asked you to prepare in order that you might do just that. Instead, they will twist and morph the information presented to them and pervert it in ways you could not possibly have foreseen. And, on top of that, you're supposed to sit by and watch them do it with a big, shit-eating grin on your face.
Sorry, this broad don't roll like that.
Take into consideration that I've been here over a year now. My former co-worker actually quit her job over the things that made her job (working for the same lawyer as we were) difficult and frustrating. At one point there were weekly meetings with Human Resources and the object of our frustration and difficulty which, naturally, resulted in absolutely NOTHING. I quickly put an end to those meetings, pointing out there there was, well, no point.
So, all of that being said, you can imagine my resentment that all my previous communications in this regard went completely unheeded. However, putting that aside, I decided that I would go along with it if for no other reason than to make them sorry that they asked ME to prepare any such memorandum.
Eight pages later, I think I hit the nail on the head and left no room for any ambiguity. The same thing was asked of Humpty (Monsieur Difficult Frustration) in which he could detail the things about me which annoy him. Where mine was put together in clear black and white, with grammatically correct paragraphs and numbering, his was literally scribbled illegibly on a half sheet of yellow notepad paper.
Enough said, if you ask me. Clearly, I'm NOT the problem here.
Regardless, many of the issues raised, valid as they were, had been completely disregarded. Were it not for solicitor-client confidentiality, I would actually post here the memorandum I prepared for your own judgments, but alas, I cannot.
Somehow, in their twisted Baby Boomer Brains (or lack thereof), many of the issues I pointed out were completely unacceptable (am I the only one who thinks forging client signatures is, oh I don't know...WRONG?) on the part of Humpty, they instead twisted around to make it appear that I should be the one correcting these mistakes.
Last time I looked, it wasn't my name on the Law School Diploma.
Anyway, naturally nothing has changed since other than the relocation of my office and the complete and utter disruption of my work which is only now - 4 days later - getting close to resembling the controlled order it once was.
Since it was not MY idea to relocate my office, I offered no assistance to help, even when asked. This was met with surprise and probably some offence, of course. Apparently, I'm supposed to help facilitate the effective screwing over of my working life. They forget that I'm NOT a Baby Boomer and therefore I have no inclination to f**k myself over. It's my observation that Baby Boomers will willingly take it up the butt at every opportunity, but this again is another difference between our respective generations.
Further, my filing cabinets, which were in quite good, LOGICAL, numerical order prior to the move were also relocated. Logically, LOGICALLY, one would have thought that were you to remove the files within said cabinets prior to moving the cabinets themselves, you might take notice of the numerical filing system they were in and thus once moved, you might reinstate them into the same, orderly numerical order.
But that's just crazy-talk! Needless to say, this was not done. In fact, it's become clear that Baby Boomers are not numerically inclined whatsoever. This much is evident by the manner in which the file folders were replaced. I have to admit, it was quite entertaining this morning watching one Baby Boomer trying to assist another Baby Boomer - the latter one having recently suffered from a stroke (the 4th such life-threatening ailment in recent years - how many more chances does Humpty think he's got? More on that in another post, Faithful Readers) and therefore not altogether "with us" - in locating files which, thanks to their new and unfathomable order, were for all intents and purposes 'unfindable'.
And yet I'm - ME - supposed to get a handle on this and still produce large volumes of work with inestimable efficiency and prowess.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.
If I seem a bit more venomous than in my previous posts, I can assure you it is with good reason. Logic escapes Baby Boomers even when you set it out in an 8-page memorandum they asked you to prepare in order that you might do just that. Instead, they will twist and morph the information presented to them and pervert it in ways you could not possibly have foreseen. And, on top of that, you're supposed to sit by and watch them do it with a big, shit-eating grin on your face.
Sorry, this broad don't roll like that.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Worth his weight in gold
I've said it before, but there are exceptions to EVERY rule, including my own. Dog the Bounty Hunter, a well-known Baby Boomer, is that exception. I'm guessing it's because he's married to a Gen X'er. We have that beneficial effect on people.
Taste of Edmonton 2009
The previous two days I have enjoyed the feast available at the 20th Annual Taste of Edmonton. There is nearly every food imaginable available for your culinary consumption. As a result, it draws a lot of people every year, so one naturally expects there to be crowds.
What is unreasonable to expect, however, is if someone...oh, let's say ME, for instance...purposely finds a place far removed from the set path of pedestrian traffic to enjoy her meal, that I should still be sought out by complete strangers only to be jostled about because they, as they claimed, "didn't see me".
I, for those of you unaware of my stature, am NOT invisible. Neither am I short or diminutive in the least. I am the complete, polar opposite of INVISIBLE.
Needless to say, it was the Baby Boomers who did the most damage. I very nearly ended up wearing rather than eating my lunch on countless occasions, and all during a single lunch hour. Why? Who the #$%* knows! I was standing there. Some short circuit inside the brains of Baby Boomers goes off and says "COMMENCE ANNOYING BEHAVIOUR".
Neither do they recognize the glaringly simple concept of "the lineup" or "queue". People lined up are generally in that line waiting for something. This does NOT mean, "Oh, okay, let's butt into the line and just generally mill about without any purpose, and hopefully upset the food plates some of the liners up may already have, thus wreaking our own brand of Baby Boomer chaos and destruction. Note to selves: PLAY DUMB and continue on your way like nothing happened."
The way to deal with this, Fair Readers, is to exact a similar form of revenge. But make it clear that YOU are indeed doing it on purpose. Wreck their days for a change!
What is unreasonable to expect, however, is if someone...oh, let's say ME, for instance...purposely finds a place far removed from the set path of pedestrian traffic to enjoy her meal, that I should still be sought out by complete strangers only to be jostled about because they, as they claimed, "didn't see me".
I, for those of you unaware of my stature, am NOT invisible. Neither am I short or diminutive in the least. I am the complete, polar opposite of INVISIBLE.
Needless to say, it was the Baby Boomers who did the most damage. I very nearly ended up wearing rather than eating my lunch on countless occasions, and all during a single lunch hour. Why? Who the #$%* knows! I was standing there. Some short circuit inside the brains of Baby Boomers goes off and says "COMMENCE ANNOYING BEHAVIOUR".
Neither do they recognize the glaringly simple concept of "the lineup" or "queue". People lined up are generally in that line waiting for something. This does NOT mean, "Oh, okay, let's butt into the line and just generally mill about without any purpose, and hopefully upset the food plates some of the liners up may already have, thus wreaking our own brand of Baby Boomer chaos and destruction. Note to selves: PLAY DUMB and continue on your way like nothing happened."
The way to deal with this, Fair Readers, is to exact a similar form of revenge. But make it clear that YOU are indeed doing it on purpose. Wreck their days for a change!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Back from Hiatus
Yes, it's been a couple months or more since my last entry. Sorry to keep you waiting, Faithful Readers. I was away, as some of you are aware, in Hawai'i gathering more research data.
I've come back and compiled that data now, and I hope to enlighten you on a couple of points.
First and foremost, the American Tourist Baby Boomer is a real sight to behold. They are about as stereotypically accurate as one could imagine. If you've ever watched an episode of Hawaii Five-O, I can only say that they're still dressing that way. Not the locals, mind you, only the tourists. And they're about as mindless as you could imagine as well.
They wander the airports and local streets wearing muu muus. They make inappropriate comments and observations about the local culture. They cannot for the lives of them understand why anyone might find their behaviour obnoxious or annoying in the least.
Case in point: we visited a DELIGHTFUL restaurant in Kaua'i where the staff and management do their utmost best to ensure the comfort and satisfaction of their customers. They are typically pleasant, as any REAL Hawaiian would be. Given that one of our visits was on Mother's Day - which to the lay person, is a HUGE deal in Hawaii, the most I've ever seen in any of my travels anywhere - this particular establishment was busier than usual. Most people thought ahead far enough to actually make reservations for a Mother's Day breakfast. Most of the rest of us decided to take our chances and were understanding of the fact that there would inevitably be a waiting period to get a table.
Most, but not all. Enter the typical, boorish mainlander. Judging by his accent, he was from somewhere deep in the midwest of the United States. And very much a Baby Boomer. AFTER he was seated at a table, AFTER he and his mother and other guests finished their meals, he saw fit to lecture one of the waiting staff of the wait he had to endure and essentially quoted chapter and verse why he thought his meal should be free of charge and that the level of service he received was not the same level to which he had become accustomed.
BLAH BLAH BLAH.
What he failed to realize was 1) many of the waiting staff were mothers themselves who did not get the luxury of a breakfast from their children, 2) he received excellent service despite any kind of waiting period, 3) he knew it was going to be Mother's Day that day and could have thought ahead - like many others - to make reservations, and finally 4) NO ONE CARES.
Still, because Hawaiian businesses are so heavily reliant on tourism revenue, the shift manager decided to give him a discount off the cost of his meal regardless. Yet he was still not gracious enough to accept with thanks that she did that much for him and his guests.
This, my friends, is Reason No. 812 to start spaying and neutering the Baby Boomer population NOW. Yes, I realize they've already had their children (who, in turn, also have inflated senses of entitlement), but you have to admit, it would still be gratifying to do it to them.
I've come back and compiled that data now, and I hope to enlighten you on a couple of points.
First and foremost, the American Tourist Baby Boomer is a real sight to behold. They are about as stereotypically accurate as one could imagine. If you've ever watched an episode of Hawaii Five-O, I can only say that they're still dressing that way. Not the locals, mind you, only the tourists. And they're about as mindless as you could imagine as well.
They wander the airports and local streets wearing muu muus. They make inappropriate comments and observations about the local culture. They cannot for the lives of them understand why anyone might find their behaviour obnoxious or annoying in the least.
Case in point: we visited a DELIGHTFUL restaurant in Kaua'i where the staff and management do their utmost best to ensure the comfort and satisfaction of their customers. They are typically pleasant, as any REAL Hawaiian would be. Given that one of our visits was on Mother's Day - which to the lay person, is a HUGE deal in Hawaii, the most I've ever seen in any of my travels anywhere - this particular establishment was busier than usual. Most people thought ahead far enough to actually make reservations for a Mother's Day breakfast. Most of the rest of us decided to take our chances and were understanding of the fact that there would inevitably be a waiting period to get a table.
Most, but not all. Enter the typical, boorish mainlander. Judging by his accent, he was from somewhere deep in the midwest of the United States. And very much a Baby Boomer. AFTER he was seated at a table, AFTER he and his mother and other guests finished their meals, he saw fit to lecture one of the waiting staff of the wait he had to endure and essentially quoted chapter and verse why he thought his meal should be free of charge and that the level of service he received was not the same level to which he had become accustomed.
BLAH BLAH BLAH.
What he failed to realize was 1) many of the waiting staff were mothers themselves who did not get the luxury of a breakfast from their children, 2) he received excellent service despite any kind of waiting period, 3) he knew it was going to be Mother's Day that day and could have thought ahead - like many others - to make reservations, and finally 4) NO ONE CARES.
Still, because Hawaiian businesses are so heavily reliant on tourism revenue, the shift manager decided to give him a discount off the cost of his meal regardless. Yet he was still not gracious enough to accept with thanks that she did that much for him and his guests.
This, my friends, is Reason No. 812 to start spaying and neutering the Baby Boomer population NOW. Yes, I realize they've already had their children (who, in turn, also have inflated senses of entitlement), but you have to admit, it would still be gratifying to do it to them.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Really?!?
Like many of you out there, I am employed by Baby Boomers. It's not my choice, but you know how they are...clinging by tooth and nail to the last vestiges of their authority like a nun with her virginity (OK, bad example, but you know what I mean). The trouble with this scenario is that most Gen X'ers and Millennials are actually quite logical creatures and Baby Boomers are, well, NOT.
Exhibit A: I was employed by one law firm (strike one, Baby Boomers, strike two, Lawyers...) where they said they offered "Casual Fridays" to their hard-working employees as some kind of inadequate compensation and morale booster. It didn't work, but that's a whole other story. Anyway, the rule was we could wear jeans, they just couldn't be...BLUE.
If that makes sense to you, you're a Baby Boomer. I mean, the assumption when you say 'jeans' is that they'll be blue. If they're black, red, white, or any other colour, then so be it, but logically, you would assume that allowing your employees to wear jeans to work on a Friday would inherently translate into said jeans being BLUE.
Exhibit B: I recently became eligible to take advantage of health benefits at the office where I currently work. These so-called benefits include eye exams, but they do not - DO NOT - include eyeglasses. Apparently, it hasn't occurred to my Baby Boomer employers and administrators of the health care plan that were I of the belief that I needed to get my eyes examined, that it might follow LOGICALLY that I would then need eyeglasses to correct any vision problems which might be discovered in said eye exam.
Health care plan, my eyeball. The plan is this: let's f**k with our employees' heads. Cheap-ass Baby Boomers.
Exhibit C: The Baby Boomer generation, for the most part, had the benefit of enjoying muscle cars when those cars were still relatively new models. One of their only worthwhile contributions, though the resultant hole in our Ozone Layer is a regrettable side effect of the consumption of fossil fuels necessary to enjoy such a pastime. Anyway... You were there when the muscle cars were king. And now that the muscle car has made a bit of a comeback in the new Mustangs, Vipers and for a limited time at least, the Corvette, you're buying them up again because, let's face it, you're the only ones who can afford such luxuries, ya money-grubbing Yuppies.
Trouble is, now you're too old for them and you don't even know it. This morning's commute to work I was privileged enough to see a Dodge Viper in front of me. A real thing of beauty to any car enthusiast. I expected the driver to be most in appreciation of this fine feat of automotive engineering but alas, I was wrong. I managed to keep up with Mr. Dodge Viper and immediately was able to assess that this car has fallen tragically into the wrong hands. Baby Boomer driver. What a waste. Not only was my 22-year-old 2.9L V6 able to keep up with this poor vehicle, I was...ohmigod I can barely bring myself to say this...I was able to PASS IT EFFORTLESSLY.
Were this a rare occurrence, I would think nothing of it, but it's not. If you have the money to buy a powerful vehicle like a Dodge Viper, then let it be known that if you let a rusted out, gutless, 2.9L V6 Bronco II (TWO!!!) pass you, the Muscle Car Gods will not be kind to you at all during the afterlife. In fact, you're not even worthy of a ritual sacrifice.
Baby Boomers, no amount of Viagra or Cialis will give you the balls you need to grow back in order to be worthy enough to drive such a vehicle. Just step aside now and save us the trouble of pushing you out of our way later.
For the record, my gutless 2.9L V6 Bronco II is simply a winter-beater. When I'm the age the Baby Boomers are now, you can be certain of one thing: I will, if I haven't wrapped it around a telephone pole by that time, be driving a kick-ass full-size Bronco and well, let's just say, if you hear it, GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY!
Exhibit C: The Baby Boomer Lawyer I work for...what can I say? Let's call him Humpty. One year he decides to imbibe a bit much and ends up making a fateful decision to fix his roof. The inevitable happened. I mean, even a drunk Baby Boomer would see it coming a mile away. But oh no, not Humpty. Anyway, yes, he fell off the roof and broke his hip. Does he immediately seek medical attention. Get real. Let's see if it'll heal on it's own, he says in his cataracted mind.
Long story short: Humpty got his hip replaced.
Following year, Humpty having not yet learned how to take care of his health (a Baby Boomer affliction - see my previous entries regarding their apparent addiction to all manner of medical services), suffers a heart attack and ends up getting open heart surgery. One would have thought this would be a wake-up call and then some and for anyone but a Baby Boomer, it would have been, but let's not forget which demographic into which Humpty falls.
This year, Humpty having once again NOT learned his lesson, suffers a stroke. Again, the wake-up call was apparently 'disconnected' and so he's back at work far too soon for anyone's liking but his own, but he's clearly NOT firing on all cylinders and even complained to me yesterday about having to mix his cold meds with his heart meds. Quite a cocktail.
You hear that sucking sound, Xers and Millennials? That's your health care running dry and guess who you have to thank for that.
So the moral of this little story is, if you can't take care of yourself, how the hell do you expect to take care of your car?
Exhibit A: I was employed by one law firm (strike one, Baby Boomers, strike two, Lawyers...) where they said they offered "Casual Fridays" to their hard-working employees as some kind of inadequate compensation and morale booster. It didn't work, but that's a whole other story. Anyway, the rule was we could wear jeans, they just couldn't be...BLUE.
If that makes sense to you, you're a Baby Boomer. I mean, the assumption when you say 'jeans' is that they'll be blue. If they're black, red, white, or any other colour, then so be it, but logically, you would assume that allowing your employees to wear jeans to work on a Friday would inherently translate into said jeans being BLUE.
Exhibit B: I recently became eligible to take advantage of health benefits at the office where I currently work. These so-called benefits include eye exams, but they do not - DO NOT - include eyeglasses. Apparently, it hasn't occurred to my Baby Boomer employers and administrators of the health care plan that were I of the belief that I needed to get my eyes examined, that it might follow LOGICALLY that I would then need eyeglasses to correct any vision problems which might be discovered in said eye exam.
Health care plan, my eyeball. The plan is this: let's f**k with our employees' heads. Cheap-ass Baby Boomers.
Exhibit C: The Baby Boomer generation, for the most part, had the benefit of enjoying muscle cars when those cars were still relatively new models. One of their only worthwhile contributions, though the resultant hole in our Ozone Layer is a regrettable side effect of the consumption of fossil fuels necessary to enjoy such a pastime. Anyway... You were there when the muscle cars were king. And now that the muscle car has made a bit of a comeback in the new Mustangs, Vipers and for a limited time at least, the Corvette, you're buying them up again because, let's face it, you're the only ones who can afford such luxuries, ya money-grubbing Yuppies.
Trouble is, now you're too old for them and you don't even know it. This morning's commute to work I was privileged enough to see a Dodge Viper in front of me. A real thing of beauty to any car enthusiast. I expected the driver to be most in appreciation of this fine feat of automotive engineering but alas, I was wrong. I managed to keep up with Mr. Dodge Viper and immediately was able to assess that this car has fallen tragically into the wrong hands. Baby Boomer driver. What a waste. Not only was my 22-year-old 2.9L V6 able to keep up with this poor vehicle, I was...ohmigod I can barely bring myself to say this...I was able to PASS IT EFFORTLESSLY.
Were this a rare occurrence, I would think nothing of it, but it's not. If you have the money to buy a powerful vehicle like a Dodge Viper, then let it be known that if you let a rusted out, gutless, 2.9L V6 Bronco II (TWO!!!) pass you, the Muscle Car Gods will not be kind to you at all during the afterlife. In fact, you're not even worthy of a ritual sacrifice.
Baby Boomers, no amount of Viagra or Cialis will give you the balls you need to grow back in order to be worthy enough to drive such a vehicle. Just step aside now and save us the trouble of pushing you out of our way later.
For the record, my gutless 2.9L V6 Bronco II is simply a winter-beater. When I'm the age the Baby Boomers are now, you can be certain of one thing: I will, if I haven't wrapped it around a telephone pole by that time, be driving a kick-ass full-size Bronco and well, let's just say, if you hear it, GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY!
Exhibit C: The Baby Boomer Lawyer I work for...what can I say? Let's call him Humpty. One year he decides to imbibe a bit much and ends up making a fateful decision to fix his roof. The inevitable happened. I mean, even a drunk Baby Boomer would see it coming a mile away. But oh no, not Humpty. Anyway, yes, he fell off the roof and broke his hip. Does he immediately seek medical attention. Get real. Let's see if it'll heal on it's own, he says in his cataracted mind.
Long story short: Humpty got his hip replaced.
Following year, Humpty having not yet learned how to take care of his health (a Baby Boomer affliction - see my previous entries regarding their apparent addiction to all manner of medical services), suffers a heart attack and ends up getting open heart surgery. One would have thought this would be a wake-up call and then some and for anyone but a Baby Boomer, it would have been, but let's not forget which demographic into which Humpty falls.
This year, Humpty having once again NOT learned his lesson, suffers a stroke. Again, the wake-up call was apparently 'disconnected' and so he's back at work far too soon for anyone's liking but his own, but he's clearly NOT firing on all cylinders and even complained to me yesterday about having to mix his cold meds with his heart meds. Quite a cocktail.
You hear that sucking sound, Xers and Millennials? That's your health care running dry and guess who you have to thank for that.
So the moral of this little story is, if you can't take care of yourself, how the hell do you expect to take care of your car?
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Work Shmerk
Here's the primary difference between Baby Boomers and everyone else born since their Reign of Terror began:
The rest of us don't define ourselves by our jobs. They do. It's as simple as that. To them, flipping burgers at McDonald's would be a "Career". To us, it's a paycheque till we can find something better.
WE are totally not cool with the whole "sacrifice our lives in favour of the 60-70 hour workweek" thing. Neither are we cool with the idea of doing just that for what, 30 years (longer for us, thanks to your absorption of any government pension funds and health care we might have enjoyed had you lot not come along...thanks to the Boomers, we have to work longer just to make sure we can survive the retirement we will probably never get. Bitter? Oh...a TAD!) or so, only to wake up one day in our declining years wondering why our kids and spouses don't want anything to do with us. Wow. Can't imagine why, huh?
The conundrum is how it happened to you in the first place what with all your protests in the '60s about free love, freedom of this, freedom of that. Freedom isn't free, my friends. Turns out, you CAN'T have it all. For what you want most, there must be sacrifices made. In the case of many Baby Boomers, they've sacrificed entirely the wrong things.
Regardless, my point is this: while we may never successfully achieve the balance between work and life, we strive to find it. We don't perceive our jobs as the definition of who we are as people. You think St. Peter - or whomever is waiting for you on the other side of this life - really gives a fig how much money you made for your nameless, faceless corporation? At the end of that you get what, a gold watch, maybe a pat on the back, an empty house and loveless marriage. Awesome.
The way you gotta look at it is this: if you're doing it for money, then you're just whoring yourself out anyway. May as well spend the time and energy on what you REALLY love, and do only your mediocre best at work. You know. Just enough to say that you did something, but not enough where you're so tapped that you have nothing left for the really important things in your life. And while you're at it, try and get as much money as you can, i.e. match the dough with the ho.
The rest of us don't define ourselves by our jobs. They do. It's as simple as that. To them, flipping burgers at McDonald's would be a "Career". To us, it's a paycheque till we can find something better.
WE are totally not cool with the whole "sacrifice our lives in favour of the 60-70 hour workweek" thing. Neither are we cool with the idea of doing just that for what, 30 years (longer for us, thanks to your absorption of any government pension funds and health care we might have enjoyed had you lot not come along...thanks to the Boomers, we have to work longer just to make sure we can survive the retirement we will probably never get. Bitter? Oh...a TAD!) or so, only to wake up one day in our declining years wondering why our kids and spouses don't want anything to do with us. Wow. Can't imagine why, huh?
The conundrum is how it happened to you in the first place what with all your protests in the '60s about free love, freedom of this, freedom of that. Freedom isn't free, my friends. Turns out, you CAN'T have it all. For what you want most, there must be sacrifices made. In the case of many Baby Boomers, they've sacrificed entirely the wrong things.
Regardless, my point is this: while we may never successfully achieve the balance between work and life, we strive to find it. We don't perceive our jobs as the definition of who we are as people. You think St. Peter - or whomever is waiting for you on the other side of this life - really gives a fig how much money you made for your nameless, faceless corporation? At the end of that you get what, a gold watch, maybe a pat on the back, an empty house and loveless marriage. Awesome.
The way you gotta look at it is this: if you're doing it for money, then you're just whoring yourself out anyway. May as well spend the time and energy on what you REALLY love, and do only your mediocre best at work. You know. Just enough to say that you did something, but not enough where you're so tapped that you have nothing left for the really important things in your life. And while you're at it, try and get as much money as you can, i.e. match the dough with the ho.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Completely unrelated to anything heretofore said...
Just wanting to make the readers of this blog aware of a couple things...
First of all, much like the Scotland Homecoming going on this year, there's also a much smaller celebration going on in Brigus, Newfoundland, regarding a lesser known, but still important, anniversary:
Check it out:
http://www.bartlett2009.com/about.asp
But if you're more interested in checking out your Scottish roots and feel the pull of your ancestors, you can figure a way to get there from here:
http://www.cometoscotland.ca/
First of all, much like the Scotland Homecoming going on this year, there's also a much smaller celebration going on in Brigus, Newfoundland, regarding a lesser known, but still important, anniversary:
Check it out:
http://www.bartlett2009.com/about.asp
But if you're more interested in checking out your Scottish roots and feel the pull of your ancestors, you can figure a way to get there from here:
http://www.cometoscotland.ca/
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Waste not, want not
What is the unerring capacity of a Baby Boomer to forget the past? While I applaud many of them for joining our little 'Save the Planet' bandwagon, many of them don't seem to understand that it was, in fact, many of them who created the problem in the first place. The insatiable consumption of our planet's resources, the casual disregard for how their actions affected not only the world and creatures around them, but also the generations coming up behind them.
Perhaps if they remember anything, it should be this: WE don't forget.
I just feel that there should be some kind of compensation from the Baby Boomers. Perhaps some kind of mandatory prostration...if anyone's got any ideas, I'd love to hear them as I've been told that they probably won't go for the public spankings I had in mind. I dunno. I thought it was pretty tame compared to some of my other ideas which I never actually vocalized. Though it did occur to me that since many Baby Boomers are also Swingers (thanks for all the new forms of venereal diseases, by the way...), the public spankings might not garner the effect I had desired.
Perhaps if they remember anything, it should be this: WE don't forget.
I just feel that there should be some kind of compensation from the Baby Boomers. Perhaps some kind of mandatory prostration...if anyone's got any ideas, I'd love to hear them as I've been told that they probably won't go for the public spankings I had in mind. I dunno. I thought it was pretty tame compared to some of my other ideas which I never actually vocalized. Though it did occur to me that since many Baby Boomers are also Swingers (thanks for all the new forms of venereal diseases, by the way...), the public spankings might not garner the effect I had desired.
Friday, March 20, 2009
OK fine. I admit it.
I'm a bit obsessive about this issue. I'm not even exactly sure when it started, if you want the God's honest truth. But here it is anyway.
Quite some time ago, I started noticing certain patterns. Working at a law firm, you meet a variety of people from all classes and age groups. The human mind invariably starts noticing patterns through observation. It's just how we're wired.
What I noticed was this, particularly in real estate transactions: younger people, my own age and at the time usually much younger (the group known as "Gen Y" or "The Millennials") than myself, were all too happy to do whatever was necessary to make their real estate transactions go smoothly. They didn't care if I asked for their first-born. They were just gobsmacked to be getting their own place. They were a real treat to deal with. I mean that sincerely. Anything, or in this case, anyone who made my job easier was always a treat.
A similar pattern was noticeable with my own generation, Generation X (and, incidentally, if you ask me, we have the coolest moniker). Granted they had some more obligations to consider in terms of payouts, but just the same, they were eager to work with me in making sure that they did their part to facilitate a clean completion of their transaction.
But oh no, NOT the Baby Boomers. They took it upon themselves to do just the opposite. All the money in the world was in their pockets, yet our feeble little fee which was less than 1% of the total of their transaction was still TOO MUCH and they did their best to whittle down the numbers. I'm convinced that I could have done the work completely pro bono and it still wouldn't be good enough for them. Not to mention their talent for omitting certain relevant points of information from not only me but their realtors, which resulted in more time and energy expended on their behalf. For those not in the biz, all a law firm really has to sell is time. If additional time is expended, we have to charge for it. Try explaining that to a Boomer, though. Perhaps I should have offered free Viagra samples as incentive to work WITH me, their representative and agent, instead of against me. Betcha it would have worked.
Quite some time ago, I started noticing certain patterns. Working at a law firm, you meet a variety of people from all classes and age groups. The human mind invariably starts noticing patterns through observation. It's just how we're wired.
What I noticed was this, particularly in real estate transactions: younger people, my own age and at the time usually much younger (the group known as "Gen Y" or "The Millennials") than myself, were all too happy to do whatever was necessary to make their real estate transactions go smoothly. They didn't care if I asked for their first-born. They were just gobsmacked to be getting their own place. They were a real treat to deal with. I mean that sincerely. Anything, or in this case, anyone who made my job easier was always a treat.
A similar pattern was noticeable with my own generation, Generation X (and, incidentally, if you ask me, we have the coolest moniker). Granted they had some more obligations to consider in terms of payouts, but just the same, they were eager to work with me in making sure that they did their part to facilitate a clean completion of their transaction.
But oh no, NOT the Baby Boomers. They took it upon themselves to do just the opposite. All the money in the world was in their pockets, yet our feeble little fee which was less than 1% of the total of their transaction was still TOO MUCH and they did their best to whittle down the numbers. I'm convinced that I could have done the work completely pro bono and it still wouldn't be good enough for them. Not to mention their talent for omitting certain relevant points of information from not only me but their realtors, which resulted in more time and energy expended on their behalf. For those not in the biz, all a law firm really has to sell is time. If additional time is expended, we have to charge for it. Try explaining that to a Boomer, though. Perhaps I should have offered free Viagra samples as incentive to work WITH me, their representative and agent, instead of against me. Betcha it would have worked.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
If you believe that, I've got a bridge I can sell you.
So...first thing I'd like to point out about Baby Boomers is their overwhelming sense of entitlement. One has to ask, though, where it comes from. Let's assess...
They started out as the children of "The Silent Generation"...you know, the ones who never spoke out against war of any kind, child abuse by parochial organizations, and basically just did what they were told like mindless automotons. It's understandable why the Baby Boomers took exception to this (my guess is because while their parents never SAID anything, it's also clear they never LISTENED and Baby Boomers have an insatiable need to be the centres of attention) and therefore attempted to forge their own way in the world by rebelling in any way they imagined. The idea was great. The follow-through, not so much.
Hard to follow-through when you're hopped up on whatever form of narcotic you can get your hands on. Attention spans suffer significantly whilst under the influence. Here's my plan:
On April Fools Day 2009, I participated in what might best be described as an experiment. Regardless of what you want to call it, the results proved my theory of Baby Boomer Gullibility was correct.
With the help of two Millennials, we convinced a Baby Boomer to telephone a 'Yuri Lyon' and provided her with a telephone number which was in actual fact the phone number for a local zoo. Unable to resist temptation, we stood inconspicuously outside her office door and listened as she asked for Mr. Lyon and noted how long it took for it to register that it was in fact a ZOO that she was phoning. It's regrettable, but it took a couple of minutes for it to sink in that it was in fact a gag and even then it took the receptionist at the Zoo to point that out as delicately as she could.
[NB: If you're a Baby Boomer reading this, you're probably not getting the gag, and so I thank you for once again perpetuating your stereotype.]
Any good scientist will tell you that you should conduct your experiment more than once to ensure that your results are accurate. We gave the phone message slip to yet another Baby Boomer and again, my theory was proved.
This is invaluable data and my message to all Gen X'ers is that we should make note of this and use it to our advantage in the future.
They'll believe ANYTHING and, what's more, they'll do it WITHOUT QUESTION.
Uh-huh, I hear ya. So much potential.
They started out as the children of "The Silent Generation"...you know, the ones who never spoke out against war of any kind, child abuse by parochial organizations, and basically just did what they were told like mindless automotons. It's understandable why the Baby Boomers took exception to this (my guess is because while their parents never SAID anything, it's also clear they never LISTENED and Baby Boomers have an insatiable need to be the centres of attention) and therefore attempted to forge their own way in the world by rebelling in any way they imagined. The idea was great. The follow-through, not so much.
Hard to follow-through when you're hopped up on whatever form of narcotic you can get your hands on. Attention spans suffer significantly whilst under the influence. Here's my plan:
On April Fools Day 2009, I participated in what might best be described as an experiment. Regardless of what you want to call it, the results proved my theory of Baby Boomer Gullibility was correct.
With the help of two Millennials, we convinced a Baby Boomer to telephone a 'Yuri Lyon' and provided her with a telephone number which was in actual fact the phone number for a local zoo. Unable to resist temptation, we stood inconspicuously outside her office door and listened as she asked for Mr. Lyon and noted how long it took for it to register that it was in fact a ZOO that she was phoning. It's regrettable, but it took a couple of minutes for it to sink in that it was in fact a gag and even then it took the receptionist at the Zoo to point that out as delicately as she could.
[NB: If you're a Baby Boomer reading this, you're probably not getting the gag, and so I thank you for once again perpetuating your stereotype.]
Any good scientist will tell you that you should conduct your experiment more than once to ensure that your results are accurate. We gave the phone message slip to yet another Baby Boomer and again, my theory was proved.
This is invaluable data and my message to all Gen X'ers is that we should make note of this and use it to our advantage in the future.
They'll believe ANYTHING and, what's more, they'll do it WITHOUT QUESTION.
Uh-huh, I hear ya. So much potential.
Gerard Butler
Hottest guy on the planet. There, I said it.
Comes second only to my husband.
And, come to think of it, NEITHER OF THEM are Baby Boomers.
Huh. Weird.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Before we get too ahead of ourselves
I have to admit. I have a few Boomer friends. Not many, granted, but a few. I also have three siblings...all Boomers. To their credit, however, they are Boomer only in age, not in mentality. I am proud to say that my influence has obviously kept them on my side of the coin.
Yes, I say that in jest. Obviously. Notice how only the Boomers got offended by that last statement up there? Thank you for proving my point, Boomers.
But I digress....
I have a pink folder. Inside the pink folder is data I've collected over the past little while regarding the generation gaps between Boomers, Xers and Ys. Boomers think they have a pretty good handle on this phenomenon, but trust me, they don't. Completely in the dark. It's a side effect of self-absorption, from which many of them suffer. Started in the 60s with their whole overly zealous yet poorly thought out ideals.
Case in point: it's no coincidence that with the dawning of the Boomers' retirement on the horizon, that the pharmaceutical companies are producing in record quantities such useful - albeit hazardous - drugs as Viagra and Cialis. So much for free love. Or peace, for that matter.
Yes, I say that in jest. Obviously. Notice how only the Boomers got offended by that last statement up there? Thank you for proving my point, Boomers.
But I digress....
I have a pink folder. Inside the pink folder is data I've collected over the past little while regarding the generation gaps between Boomers, Xers and Ys. Boomers think they have a pretty good handle on this phenomenon, but trust me, they don't. Completely in the dark. It's a side effect of self-absorption, from which many of them suffer. Started in the 60s with their whole overly zealous yet poorly thought out ideals.
Case in point: it's no coincidence that with the dawning of the Boomers' retirement on the horizon, that the pharmaceutical companies are producing in record quantities such useful - albeit hazardous - drugs as Viagra and Cialis. So much for free love. Or peace, for that matter.
Is it just me?
Seriously. I'm asking. I have a few friends who agree with my Boomer Theory, but I've always been a little suspicious they may be just humouring me to get me to shut up about it that much sooner. I take no offence. I understand it's a pretty heavy topic. Boomers are statistically 'heavy' in terms of population and weight, so it's only natural a topic concerning them would also be equally, morbidly obese, if only even figuratively speaking.
But I need to know that I'm not alone in my quest for knowledge and validation. I'd welcome the chance to share experiences and thoughts regarding this subject from anyone who has also been seeking reconciliation in this particular issue.
But I need to know that I'm not alone in my quest for knowledge and validation. I'd welcome the chance to share experiences and thoughts regarding this subject from anyone who has also been seeking reconciliation in this particular issue.
Pleading my case
While this blog is primarily intended to be my own personal warpath against Baby Boomers (more on that later), don't be surprised if you check in sometime and find some blurb about something completely unrelated and irrelevant to this blog's title is interjected at intermittent intervals throughout. Just sayin'.
Introduction
Bear with me...I'm new at this. Just a little idea I came up with to try and help me work out some things lolling about in my brain which just need to get out of there and into cyberspace.
Things like the things that pique my interest, grate on my nerves...pretty much, when you think about it, like everyone else's blog, but with a bit more sardonic flavour.
If that makes any sense.......
In any event, I'm happy that you could stop by and have a boo. Hope you'll kick off your shoes and stay awhile.
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