By Bex Peterson, Editor-in-Chief
If your Twitter feed is as cluttered with op-eds as mine is these days, you might notice something a bit weird: People seem to have no gosh darn clue how old millennials actually are.
I’ve seen studies about the computer habits of 10-year-olds warning that “millennials” are spending too much time online—which don’t get me wrong, we absolutely are, but depressed 24-year-olds scrolling through Reddit for five hours and killing a six-pack of Pabst Blue in the process is not the image these articles are presenting. Despite what many seem to think, millennials aren’t kids anymore (technically speaking, anyway). The youngest millennial is 22, if you go by the ’96 cut-off.
In fact, there’s a good chance that you, the person reading this Lettitor right this moment, are not a millennial. You’re one of them.
You see, millennials at this point are just so passé. The ones we really have to worry about are the up-and-comers, the Gen Z kids. Yes, you kids, with your memes, and your… I don’t know. I don’t know what the kids are into these days. I bet you don’t even remember the ’90s, do you?
I remember the ’90s, albeit vaguely. I can do a dead-on impression of the dial-up tone if called upon, I remember when getting a DVD player was a really big deal, and I even remember that time Heinz decided to play God and turned their ketchup purple and teal (though granted, that particular crime against humanity took place in 2000).
I was there, Gandalf. I was there when Pokémon: The First Movie: Mewtwo Strikes Back hit theatres for the first time. I wept when Pikachu wept—though granted, I was like five years old.
I know there’s honestly not that big a gap between me and the next generation, but I really do wonder sometimes what your average 18-year-old gets nostalgic for these days. Does the sight of a Juicy tracksuit transport you back to your earliest childhood memories the way crimped hair and questionable uses of velvet fabric does for me? Did the mid-to-late 2000s have a colour scheme the way the ’90s seemed to latch on to purple and teal and never let go?
(Again, Heinz made honest-to-God purple and teal ketchup. What the hell was our damage?)
The feature this week delves into a book series that takes place in the early 2000s, back in the heady times of Blockbuster Video and that awkward transition from pagers to cellphones (if you don’t know what a pager is, ask the closest baby boomer for a full five minutes of scoffing and moralizing about kids these days; no guarantee they’ll actually answer your perfectly reasonable question). We’re getting far enough away from the turn of the millennium that we can start really getting nostalgic about it, which feels a bit weird.
Look, I’m not even that old, okay? I’m 24. I’m not old enough to rent a car yet or teach someone to drive. I’m practically one of the youths!
Please enjoy this week’s offerings, whatever arbitrarily-assigned generational label you happen to fit.
Until next issue,