Is you is or is you ain’t a baby boomer?
It's come to my notice lately that all kinds of people are claiming to be Baby Boomers. Some of them have even been born in the 60s! Out of pure public spiritedness, I have decided that, once and for all, there is absolute clarity on this crucial social issue. Answer the following questionnaire and your generational uncertainties will be sorted once and for all.
Your mobile battery runs out in the middle of a call to your stockbroker. Do you:
A. Plug in your laptop and Skype her?
B. Swear loudly – and borrow your wife/husband’s mobile?
C. Wait till you get home and use your land line?
D. Throw the phone into the canal and say “Hey man, I’m quitting this breadhead rat race”, drive your car over a cliff and join a commune?
You’re having difficulties entertaining your daughter’s moronic, monosyllabic boyfriend whom you’ve invited round for dinner. Do you:
A. Try to bring him out of his shell by talking about the latest hip hop music?
B. Recommend him to a social skills counsellor?
C. Put on the telly and ignore him?
D. Dust off your ancient Stratocaster and tell him “You’re going to love this Eric Clapton number, man”?
You’re in the pub and suddenly can’t remember the name of a 1963 pop band. Do you:
A. Look it up on your iPhone?
B. Think “It doesn’t matter, I never heard their stuff anyway”
C. Bore everyone else in the pub by describing the band to them and saying “Go on, you know who they are”?
D. Go very quiet, and when you get home, google “Alzheimers”?
At work a young female colleague strolls in dressed in totally inappropriate “slut” gear. Do you:
A. Post racy banter about her on your Facebook page?
B. Complain to your Line Manager?
C. Ignore her. Women these days are all crazy.
D. Stare at her, slack-jawed, thinking “I’d forgotten what it looked like”?
If you score mainly As: You’re under 35. You think a baby boomer’s some kind of music app on your phone. What in friggin’ heck made you do the questionnaire?
Mainly Bs: You’re a 90s person, so you’re in between the “Me” generation and the techno crowd. You don’t know who the hell you are and I can’t help you.
Mainly Cs: You’re a Thatcher/Reagan child. You’re still sulking because you’ve looked so skinny since shoulder pads went out of fashion.
Mainly Ds: You’re the real thing and I love you! Come round to my house whenever you want, as long as you have a boot full of beer.