There I was, snickering gently at today's Cary Tennis feature in Salon ("The Gen X-ers Are Driving Me Crazy") with its adorable complaints ...
I work in a trendy Internet firm with people who are 15-25 years younger than I am. I love working with the younger 20-somethings, but I find myself increasingly frustrated with the Gen Xers -- those from 28 to 39. The stereotypes seem to be true: They're cynical, selfish, noncommittal, addicted to pop culture, oddly nostalgic, smart but not wise, suspicious of sentimentality but hypersensitive to criticism.
So, my co-workers drive me nuts, but it gets worse. My beloved Internet is filling up with blogs, columns and essays by Gen Xers who don't seem to have any framework for their arguments and who are militantly post-feminist (embrace your inner slut), post-hippie (I care only about my family -- fuck the community), post-vegan (I raise my own meat, slaughter it lovingly, then serve it up to my foodie friends).
... when some impish impulse took me to the letters pages.