…I’m…a millennial…
But I’m an elder millennial, so it’s…different. I just feel some things were better in bygone days, and occasionally wish my adult years had taken place in the before times. Even my hobbies aren’t ‘young’…reminiscing of the days of old…being in bed at a decent hour…shaking my head in dismay at the antics of the young’uns…and most important of all…being in bed at a decent hour.
Not saying I don’t like modern conveniences. Not saying I don’t like hanging out with friends…at sometimes questionable bars/clubs until stupid o’clock in the morning, and there’s no denying the benefits of interconnectivity.
However, sometimes I feel like this:
- Friends…you can take me to the club if you must: That club must serve hot beverages and have armchairs. And we’re leaving by 8:30pm so I can get home by 9:00pm…and be in bed at a decent hour. What’s with this, ‘go hard or go home,’ ‘don’t stop the party, and ‘Mr DJ can you turn the music up?’ nonsense, hmmm? First of all…
- (Oh lookit, a list within a list…) first of all: go hard for what? For who? And for why? And actually, I’d love to go home so……now what? In fact, if I could get away with it, I would never leave the house.
- Second of all: stop the party. The party doesn’t need to go all night. Whoever told you that lied. So, lets all help clear the dancefloor and recycle the bottles. If we all work together, we can all go home faster.
- Third of all: Mr DJ, can you turn the music down? All the way, all the way It’s like you haven’t even considered that some people are trying to have a conversation here. That’s just disrespectful.
- On the subject of disrespectful DJ’s: I went to a party where the DJ didn’t have a set of decks. Dude had an iPod and was ‘DJing’ by scrolling through the device. He was paid a ridiculous amount of money to provide a ‘service’ the hosts or their revellers could have provided for free. And it would have been better music too! Back in the day you had a serious DJ who took pride in their work. I don’t know if I’m just going to the wrong clubs, or if I’ve just reached the ‘use by’ date of my clubbing life, but this style of ‘DJing’ is an abomination to me.
- New School noise sorry…um………………… ‘music’: that’s all.
- Being sociable was much better : This Instachat, Facegram and Snapbook nonsense is unnecessary. You didn’t know what people did every second of every day, and life went on. Meetups were fun. We had things to talk about. And even with zero photographic evidence, people were still running marathons, setting up businesses, achieving their goals…and barista’s at Starbucks still misspelled names. So, there’s that.
- Common sense used to be common: And people knew the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.
- People were on time: If you told someone you would meet them at 20:00 hours at the cinema, come rain or shine, hell or high water, you were both there at 20:00 hours. Now with all this technology…which is meant to make us better people…it’s 22:35 hours and you’re both still at home IM’ing each other about how you’re almost out the house but you’re actually Instagramming your cat. Back when I was growing up you were on time. Because you had to be. Or you’d piss off your friends and miss your movie and have to wait 5 years for it to come out on a VHS tape which cost a month’s pay.
- Hobbies and entertainment were simple: Knitting is freaking therapeutic. Going for a walk is underrated.
- People were present: If you went to a concert. You were present at the concert instead of filming it and constantly updating your social media. Having dinner with family and friends? You actually…you know…talked. I miss being able to eat my food while it’s still hot and fresh…a friend once told me off for taking a bite of my meal before she could take a photo of it…I mean…what the actual F?
- Technology lasted longer: Is it me, or are phones flimsier than they used to be? You sneeze too hard while holding your new £700 handset…and the screen breaks and uh-oh…insurance doesn’t cover that kind of damage. You drop the handset and it falls all of two feet…onto a carpet surface, and the whole thing breaks. Remember Nokia? Specifically, the 3210? (see the lovely pic below) That was a phone and a lethal weapon all in one. You dropped that thing on your foot, you broke your foot. You dropped that thing on the ground, you created a sinkhole…and bet money the battery will still be full when future archaeologists eventually dig it up.
- People didn’t expect to contact you 24/7: It’s 3:00am in the morning Michael, why the hell are you WhatsApp-ing me cat GIF’s, and links to random YouTube videos? Do we need to be connected all the damn time?
(Also, I found a hard candy in my bag. I don’t remember buying it. Is this how getting older starts? Random suck-y sweets in your bag? Honestly, fine by me, I can’t wait…to be that cantankerous old lady beating people with my cane).