Toy Story

A very scary thing happened to me yesterday: I legitimately used the phrase “when I was your age.” This terrifies me because I don’t think I’m that old! However, when confounded by the modern toy industry, it was entirely appropriate. All my friends are having babies now and a generation gap has officially formed twixt my own childhood and “kids these days.”

The problem was that I was searching for a classic toy. I checked the toy departments in Walmart and Target first, because I was there anyway. Then I went to Toys R Us, which was a huge mistake. The only sales associate I could find was a teenager who looked like she hated her job almost as much as she hated her life. How could you hate working at a toy store? Only way to beat that would be to work in Santa’s workshop itself!

She just gave me a blank stare when I said that I couldn’t find a paratrooper toy. “What’s a paratrooper?” I very politely described the parachuting soldier doll, trying my best not to call her an idiot. She had another blank stare, then mumbled something about them not having it and walked off. I resumed the search on my own and eventually concluded that she her lazy guess had been correct.

When we were growing up, my brothers and I had basic toys, mostly because we never had any money. I loved my Etch-A-Sketch and Polly Pockets. What I did not love was stepping on random Lego blocks all over the house. We actually played with our toys, often even outside. The only “luxury” toy I ever had was my American Girl doll, which was a Christmas gift from my grandparents. I definitely still have her.

Most of our toys were pretty low-tech. I did have a Galaxy class U.S.S. Enterprise model with detachable dish and warp engines, which even made warp and torpedo sounds. There was always great debate between me and Andrew about who had the Enterprise and who had the Klingon Bird of Prey—but we always agreed that James got the lame shuttlecraft.

It was such a big deal when the boys got their first Nintendo 64. Up until then, my Furby had been the most high-tech toy. We never did get Gameboys. As I looked around at all the new toys yesterday, I was amazed. Almost none of them lacked electronics of some sort. G.I. Joe and Barbie are now fully articulated, yet even they were largely outnumbered by action figures for the latest movies.

The lack of educational toys was heartbreaking. When I was a kid, we still had to use our heads to play. We actually learned how to build rockets! Nowadays, toys don’t leave much room for imagination. You don’t have to imagine your toys coming to life when they can already walk and talk and fight crime on their own. Give me a Thomas the Tank Engine set any day. You can keep your Orbeez Soothing Spa set.

The Lost Boys

“I never wanna grow up!” protests Peter Pan. Leading his band of boys in fun, dangerous, but ultimately insignificant adventures, he personifies the modern American guy. We all know these guys and many of them are my friends. They’re so much fun! Chances are, however, that they are single, their most significant investment last year was a new Xbox, and they still live with their parents or with other immature guy friends.

It used to be simple: you were either a child or an adult. The industrialization of Western culture in the early 1900s added a small gap in between, commonly known as high school. Further advances in the 50s and 60s developed the college step to adulthood. Now, yet another demographic has formed, a sort of post-adolescent/pre-adulthood. People in their 20s have decided to postpone acquiring the social markers of maturity until they feel “ready.”

A unique brand of limbo has been in gestation for the past couple decades and has reached fruition in my generation. This is most evident in marriage statics that remind us that only 40 years ago, only 15% of people reached age 30 before marriage—today, that number has tripled to 55%. An even more interesting statistic is that women are dominating the 20-something age-group.

Left on our own, we females have taken the energy which traditionally would have been devoted to a family and are pouring it into our careers. More women are graduating from college and getting better jobs than men for the first time in history. An increasing amount of research into this socio-economic phenomenon has been coming out recently, searching for an explanation. It seems to boil down to the fact that boys aren’t becoming men because they don’t have to.

Ask almost any of my single girl friends and she’d tell you that she does not want to go it alone, but if a man won't commit, she has no other choice. We are finally reaping the fruits of feminism. Our mothers’ generation emasculated their husbands and raised their sons without fathers. Now those boys are in their 20s and have no idea how to be men—and our current culture is perfectly okay with that stunted condition.

Who wants to work when you can have fun? Those of my peers who have married, settled down, or otherwise gotten serious about their lives are considered weird. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, boys are getting lost. Guys who have supposedly grown up are still fighting pirates in video games, prolonging juvenile fantasies and irresponsibility with the resources which should be used for bettering themselves and society as a whole… they’re still being Lost Boys.

Moralistic Therapeutic Deism

A recent study shows that Christians, especially teens and young adults, are only “almost Christian.” When I first came across the article on Mark Driscoll’s Twitter, it definitely disturbed me. The more I thought about it, however, I came to realize that this trend is nothing new. A brief history of religion (Christianity in particular) reveals that fervor is cyclical, like so many other movements.

One of the great American myths is that the founding fathers were Christians. False! Most of them were actually deists. Deism is a religious philosophy that was popular during the Enlightenment and is comparable to modern agnosticism. It separates faith and science, relying largely on reason: Thomas Jefferson even took a pair of scissors to his Bible and cut out anything that defied natural laws.

Fast-forward a hundred years to the Victorian era and the predominant religious fad was moralism. Clergymen, especially Anglicans, emphasized the loving aspects of God’s character. Christians were encouraged merely to be good and charitable. The lack of true morality, one founded in justice, provided the perfect incubator for Darwin’s evolutionism and Marx’s atheism.

Researchers are beginning to notice religious apathy in my generation and have termed it “moralistic therapeutic deism.” In the age of heightened self-esteem awareness, it makes sense that we would want our faith to make us feel better. Our parents’ religion seems disconnected to us. Thankfully, it isn’t time to give up on my generation as a lost cause—we’ve still got another 50 years to work on a revival!

A Supportive Patriot: Good Luck, Iraq!

Patriotism is one thing that has always flowed thickly through my veins. “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country,” has been almost as key in my philosophy as “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Last night, the very President of my United States delivered one of the most self-centered speeches I have ever heard.

Politicians are slippery and their well-written addresses are no different. I generally prefer to read the transcripts instead of watch the actual speech. Charismatic delivery can often obscure the true essence of the words being spoken. Our current president is an excellent public speaker, which had a lot to do with him being elected in the first place. What he says never seems to matter as much as it should because he says it so well.

President Clinton's speeches always made me feel greasy and oily, like I'd just shook hands with a used car salesman after he'd run his fingers through his hair. President Obama's speeches always seem too sweet to me. It's like getting a drink from a soda fountain that was broken and put too much syrup in the soda. You know immediately that it's so sickly sweet that something must be wrong and it can't be good for you.

Last night’s speech was no exception. It was very well-written and flawlessly delivered. However, upon examination, the basic content boils down to crap. Personally, I’m sick of Obama’s there-were-patriots-on-both-sides-of-the-issue shtick. He blatant pandering to veterans, applauding individual courage, is merely a straw man attempt to disguise his own impotency.

The President seems disproportionately concerned with the “strain” on our nation’s relationships with other countries, i.e., our lack of popularity. My guess would be that he suffers from low self-esteem. His entire election campaign was simply a massive effort to get people to like him, not to inform them of his policies on important issues.

Obama’s policies have always been home-focused and with good reason: he has no idea what he’s doing in the international forum. Obviously, military action is expensive. Naturally, localized economic trouble is one of the foremost concerns in the average citizen’s mind—moreso than what we have already invested overseas.

When he says this decision will help us financially, he’s really just trying to distract from the fact that he’s clueless and inexperienced in international politics. By the way, that was a nice casual reference to your veteran grandfather, Mr. Obama. Just because he was a citizen, doesn’t mean you are. I’d still like to see that birth certificate!

It’s called war and anyone with half a brain would expect it to be difficult. Of course, we encountered “rough waters!” President Bush fully expected this to be a long, hard fight and tried to prepare the country for it. Too bad he was dealing with the microwave generation who wants everything to be easy and done NOW. Sometimes, life isn’t easy. The same goes for international politics. As General Patton simply said “war is hell.” Deal with it.

Thank God this generation wasn't around during WWII. Japan attacked a Hawaiian military base, but we spent 4 years, about 2100 billion dollars, and over 400,000 lives in that war. When thousands of civilians were killed in New York City, what was our response? We complain about expenses and quit when we don't win immediately.

American troops are now officially out of Iraq. Obama declared the war to be complete. Translation: good freaking luck, Iraq, you’re on your own now because this is just too hard for us! I sure hope they’ll be okay. I’ve had several friends who have served over there (one of whom didn’t come home) and I sure hope they didn’t fight for no reason. This patriot supports you. Thank you!

Technical Difficulties

Being a member of the Millennial Generation, I have no problem with new technology. My daily life overflows with gadgets: cell phone, iPod, multiple computers, all the cords and converters and controllers. Even my air conditioner has a remote control! I blog, tweet, facebook, google, email, and update constantly.

What I’m really still waiting for is a teleportation device, or at least a car that drives itself. I know they’re coming, but until they get here, I’ll survive somehow. Unless, of course, one of my current devices succeeds in killing me. Oh, it’s very possible.

These past couple days have been filled with technological events which could barely be termed “difficulties.” “Catastrophes,” might be more appropriate. Suffice to say, I had to buy a new personal computer, was sorely tempted to throw my work computer out the window, and sure hope that my cell phone’s next upgrade is soon—and by soon, I mean tomorrow.

Technology can be a beautiful thing. Its advancement provides increased ease and capability to our lives. It can also be so impossible to manipulate that one may consider joining an Amish community in order to preserve any sanity that may remain after such an encounter. I’ve always wanted a buggy…

Home Sweet House

Earlier today, someone said to me, "you are where you live." I have already been recently contemplating the concept of Home and what it means to a person. To some, their dwelling is merely where they keep most of their stuff and occassionally sleep—these people would probably find their true home to be elsewhere, such as an office.

Where you live really does say a lot about you and where you are in your life. For instance, it would be unlikely for a family with several children to live in an apartment. Similarly, a socially active extrovert would not likely live in a cabin in the woods. If you live with roommates or alone instead of with relatives, that also says a lot. (Most generalities do not apply to New York City or other such evil metropolises.)

A few years ago there was a tv show called "Get Packing" which was quite short-lived and with good reason. The two contestants each had a few minutes inside someone's house to learn as much about them as possible and pack a suitcase for a weekend getaway... the person then chose his/her date based on the contents of the suitcase and how well the contestants had guessed his/her personality based on his/her house. The interesting thing about the show was how exactly precise or widely inaccurate the contestants could be.

If you look around my current apartment, I'm sure it would tell you a lot. A poster from my favorite film is framed and hanging in my living room. Most of my furniture is second-hand. I have two separate organizers for my shoes (one for dress shoes and the other for street shoes). There is usually a pile of dishes in the sink. Currently, there is only one toothbrush in the holder on the bathroom counter.

When I was growing up, my family moved around a lot. A lot. I hated it. Now that I'm out on my own, I would like to put down roots somewhere. Not necessarily here, where I am at this moment, but I do not enjoy a transient lifestyle of only a year or two in a town. I think that my generation has had it with the gypsy ways of our youth—parents moving around, parents moving out, parents provided by the foster-care system...

We young people have multiple, significant obstacles in our way, but we'll make it. We have to. I would want my kids to go to the same school for their whole education and not have to constantly make new friends. I want to be able to actually buy a house, instead of just renting. I want to invest in that house and make it a home for myself and for the family I hope to have someday.

I Failed Kindergarten

True story: they made me repeat kindergarten. I don’t remember the exact reason, considering I was only five years old. I do remember that my teacher, Miss Stives, was the coolest person ever, with that 90s perm, giant glasses, and don’t forget the shoulder pads. The good news is that I did eventually pass the grade, finish high school a year early, and get elected class president in college.

One of the characteristics of my generation is turning out to be our individuality. While our obsession with personalization can be ridiculous, there’s a lot to be said for our confidence in ourselves. We are who we are and don’t try to change us. We have redefined failure and re-accept the challenge to “boldly go where no one has gone before.”

We don’t need good luck because we’ve never had it. Most of us have grown up in dysfunctional families, each with their own unique blend of single-parent-blended-family-step-and-half-sibling chaos. If we can survive our screwed up childhood, bring on the future! How bad could it be?

So what if you fail classes, default on loans, get evicted, lose your job, and get dumped simultaneously? We may not be the most responsible generation ever, but we are strong survivors. We don’t always know what we want, but once we know what it looks like, we go for it. I like to think that when we’re grandparents some day, we’ll each be able to tell our unique stories about the time we failed kindergarten but kept going anyway—and had fun doing it!