From a purely numerical standpoint you, the reader, are 28.5% girlier than your parents and their generation.
“But Thomas, I’m a man! And how do you quantify such a thing?”
Sorry, and I can’t.
The sissification of Generation Y started at any early age.
At four, a good deal of us were enrolled in our respective, local soccer leagues.
I’m not going to argue if soccer is a legitimate sport or not, but it definitely doesn’t teach us young patriots how to throw a ball. That issue is actually second to the true culprit of soccer: Soccer Moms. Enough said.
When we started riding bikes, we had horrendous helmets strapped to our heads. If we were to go soaring from our bikes or a host of zombies invaded, our brains were safe, but where’s the fun in that?
Soon thereafter, political socialization did its work in school. The absurdity of saying (or not saying) “Merry Christmas” in Wal-Mart was the emphasis of my high school career.
Throughout school, we also had the experience of a lack of fights. Anytime it came down to fisticuffs in the hall, the wrath of God may as well have been brought down.
Thirty-five years ago if two boys were about to engage, it is not absurd to think it was almost encouraged. I’ve heard tales of kids being given boxing gloves after school. Now, a 13-year-old can barely lift a carton of milk much less two boxing gloves. So even if they manage to raise their fists, their endurance would be the limiting factor of the fight and not the number of blows and gore.
I don’t want to even get started on deodorant and metrosexuality.
On top of all this, Facebook is compounding the issue. We’re turning into Generation Y Bother. It’s not an uncommon joke that the newest crop of young adults in America are completely apathetic. We would rather make a Web site against the war rather than actually do something about it.
And why would we? We were never adamantly thrown onto the streets to make mischief. We were raised so that we would turn into inactive, secure adults. The job of a parent is not an easy one and I do speak in a manner that suggests we were absolutely ruined. We weren’t.
As our parents lived through the Civil Rights Movement, the Vietnam war and so forth, they stressed respect and tolerance to their children.
These traits are vital to being a good person, but they may have been overdone.
I won’t be pulling a Breakfast Club.
I know all these problems are not to be blamed solely on our parents. The fact is they did a great job with what they had, but school is for weenies and computers have destroyed our drive.
So I just have one slight request.
If you decide to have a kid, don’t sue other parents if their kid fights with yours. Teach them to throw a ball. Enroll them in soccer. And finally, put a horrendous helmet on their head.