Thursday 13 September 2012


Are you a bona fide baby boomer?


The three at the back are genuine kids. The thing on the  girl's knee is  Caspar.

I’m a pretty inclusive person (I’ve even been known to talk to teenagers) but I have a strict definition of “Baby Boomer”. We are people born during late World War 11 and up to the mid 1950s. For five years our Dads had been fighting Hitler and our Mums chucking hay around. They needed a break and for the next five years they were at it like rabbits. Hence, us.

If you’re not sure whether you’re a genuine Boomer or not, take the following test:

1)      Do you say “Cooooooooool” or do you pronounce it as “Kule?”
2)      Do you still instinctively jump up when the CD ends in case the needle has got stuck in the groove?
3)      Do you regard “Reality” as something you wake up to, rather than a mind-numbing TV show that puts you to sleep?
4)      Do you still automatically upend your trousers before cleaning in case a coin has fallen into the turnups?
5)      Do you know what turnups are?
6)      Do you intersperse your conversation with inadvertent Bob Dylan quotes?
7)      If someone says “Bieber” to you, do you envisage an exotic feathery boutique (and not a pimply underage singer)?
8)      Do you still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night pondering what “Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds” really means?
9)      Do you moan that modern music has no tunes, then realise that it’s just what your Dad used to say?
10)  Can you whistle?

If you have 9-10 “Yes’es” then you’re an authentic Baby Boomer. A big peace sign to you and can I call you “Man”, man (or ma’am)?

If you have 7-8 “Yes’es”: You’re trying hard and are quite convincing. But I bet you can’t name every track on the Beatles’ first LP. Still, I’ll wave a friendly joss stick at you when I see you.

If you have 6 “Yes’es”: Mmmm. More work needed. Learn all the words to “Desolation Row” and come back to me next week and quote it in full.

Below 6: Sorry, you’re not a Baby Boomer. You’re a baby.

2 comments:

  1. Many of my friends belong to my parents' generation, and my friends from my generation usually have friends from their parents' generation too. I guess I'm pretty much of an atypical case.
    I think I've never heard a Bieber song so far, not because I tried to avoid him, but because his stuff never reached into my ear (not that I know of, at least).
    I'm not a fan of the Beatles, but I definitely love Queen, Duran Duran, Alan Parson's Project, The Cure, The Door, Bob Dylan, and all the shebang.
    If I had to pick a model, I'd pick Cary Grant, Clint Eastwood, Sean Connery, over Johnny Depp.
    I sometimes enjoy writing with my typewriter whenever I want to let the flow of thoughts come out uninterrupted. I love the smell of smoke from the chimney that spreads around through each molecule of humidity in the air. I love to jump on top of haystacks and, sitting upon a stone on the creek, I can't help philosophizing over whether stones have a soul too, and if they do, is it made of stone? What if I were a stone? Am I?

    So, what am I? A baby, a baby boomer, a man, a Methuselah or what? What am I?

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  2. You're obviously a man of good taste, Jay. I think we'll elect you as a surrogate baby boomer.

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