The event was fun, full of exactly what you would expect: old blokes playing music, young bewigged lassies dancing their legs off (the troupe we saw had clearly kidnapped my younger brother, as their lone boy in the group looked exactly like him), and plenty of Guinness. The crowd was pale, sun-fearing, and big-headed: in short, we were among our people.
While having a pint a group of three older folks asked if they could sit at our table. We obliged and, being that we're all Irish and there was beer flowing, the five of us got to chatting. In typical what-a-small-world fashion it turned out that the folks who joined us were also originally from the east coast, and the Rochester, NY area to be specific. We had some laughs talking about what we missed from back home (the food, the Bills, etc.) and the conversation turned to professions. The two ladies were both retired teachers, and when asked I responded that I too was a teacher. They inquired about my subject and I gave them the short answer: writing.
The alcohol, environment, and generational gap let the floodgates open pretty quickly on what H likes to refer to as the "Kids These Days" conversation. The KTD topic is always an odd one for us, given that we're not that far from being kids ourselves. Sure, we're finding ourselves annoyed at teenagers lately, but that has more to do with their wardrobe choices and bad taste in movies than their penchant for texting.
Now, as a writing teacher I will fully sympathize with those that feel online communication is having a negative impact on formal, professional communication - one e-mail sent to me this past year was titled "y i was absent" - so yes, there is absolutely a professional struggle I engage with on this topic. I suppose, however, that my fear with this shift has more to do with this than it has to do with poor spelling or net-speak. My biggest gripe is the avoidance of actual communication in place of the drawn-out process of faceless conversation. I see it manifest in my sister when she plans to go see a movie with friends, a conversation that should take minutes on the phone drawn out to an hour as texts bounce back-and-forth.
As I said earlier, the KTD topic is a tricky one. It's odd to us to be included in this topic suddenly, as though we've become part of the "Eh, What Can You Do?" club that nudges one another and shares a sidelong glance as the youngsters stroll by with their rubik's cubes, razor scooters, iPods, and other generational signifiers. I find myself griping about people younger than I am, and perhaps this is an inevitability. Perhaps it's some kind of reminder that you're not young anymore - that as each August becomes September, you're getting older. As of this writing, I'm not terribly worried about the KTD. The online communication shift may be annoying, and their writing is pretty abysmal, but I believe that as long as there are tents to have a pint under, tables to be shared with strangers, and - of course - the concern of those older than them, they'll end up turning out alright.
