You kids get off my lawn

I've always had had my suspicions that my fellow twenty-somethings would be well on their way to being the most cynically nostalgic bunch in the history of ever.

I mean, have you seen the Internet lately? 

There are blogs, articles, and blogticles galore bemoaning the "lost" technologies kids today won't know about that were so prominent circa 1998. YouTube is chock full of '90s cartooons (where I most recently lost an hour or so watching Animaniacs compilations of the Randy Beaman kid and "Good Idea, Bad Idea"). 

This is all well and good until you get to the comments section of these videos/blogticles, where my fellow babies-of-the-eighties wax poetic about their childhood, and how kids today don't get it, what with their Hannah Montana and their Fanboy and Chum-Chum. They just don't get what good movies and TV shows are all about. They won't ever know the joys of rewinding a video tape or talking to their friends on land-line telephones.

No, really. Since when did we become a bunch of nursing home residents that wave their canes angrily at all the young whippersnappers? We're twenty-something, for cripes' sake. What are we going to do when there's more than one generation behind us?

Maybe it's just because we're the first generation with the universe at our fingertips. It's a heck of a sounding board for nostalgia, really. Our parents didn't have that.

I think the moral of this story is, I coined the word "blogticle," and it tickles me. You heard it here first, folks.