You know, 20-somethings crack me up. (I write this knowing, of course, that what I’m about to say is a huge generalization… that there are exceptions… that I myself was once a 20-something. Whatever.)
So. As I was saying…
They’re quite a bunch, those 20-somethings. A couple of years in university and they think they know everything. There’s an arrogance in being 20-something, an arrogance that colours the whole world in black and white with no shades of grey, that thinks it knows exactly how everyone should live and think.
Oh, I remember being 20-something. I remember the frustration I felt when others just wouldn’t see things My Way (the right way, of course), the smug self-satisfaction and superiority in knowing that I was Enlightened and understood Truth, the disdain for the hopelessly uninformed viewpoints of those who saw things differently.
Now I’m long past 20-something, and I confess that though I remember what it was like, I have a hard time taking that particular generation seriously… as, I’m very sure, 40-somethings felt about my generation way back when, and as the people of my parents’ generation may well feel about mine today.
So the wheel keeps turning.
