Label #1: The Babies (1946-1964)

The Naïve Years

We were babies for a very long time. Our generation spanned over twenty years. While some of us were still in diapers, others were sophomores in college. No matter how old we were though, we had one thing in common; between the years of 1946 and 1964, we were naive. Whether we were learning how to use the potty or learning how to solve Calculus equations, we watched, “Leave It to Beaver,” “Lassie,” and “The Lone Ranger.” We listened to Ward Cleaver and believed he was what a real dad was like. We watched June Cleaver clean house in high heels and hose, and wondered why our Mom didn't do that. We believed in good guys winning, cookies and milk after school, and white picket fences. We thought Desi and Lucy had a good marriage and Little Ricky was really their son. Our parents carried us outside, showed us the moon, and told us we could go there one day. We drank Cokes, believed in Chevys or Fords and would fight about which was better. We collectively tried new math, and traded dresses and suits for polyester pants. Then, while we were playing or studying in front of our black and white TV’s, we watched as our President was shot. No matter how young we were, we saw John Kennedy's brains splatter over his perfectly dressed wife. We watched with tears running down our faces as his small son saluted his casket. We listened with hope as Martin Luther King, Jr. told us about his dream and then watched in horror as his dream was shattered by a bullet. We looked on in fear as Bobby Kennedy tried to recover his brother's Camelot, and sighed in sadness when he, too, was struck down. At this point, something changed within us.

Labels #2 and #3 : Hippies and Yippies (1965-1979)

The Rebellious Years

Between the years 1965-1979, we started to grow up and there was a longing and unrest deep within us. We were angry that the world we believed in, our parents world, dissolved. We really had believed in the myth and were bitterly disappointed that the myth was just a story. We decided to create a world of our own, with our own rules. In our world, everyone would get along; blacks and whites would mesh together as naturally as day and night. We would all hold hands, grow flowers and fruit, quit eating meat, and start smoking pot. The terrible war that our parents created was not part of our world. We would refuse to go to war and spit on those who did. The images of war on our TV made us even surer that we were right. We watched every night as our friends, brothers, and relatives were shot down in front of us. We heard stories that children and women had bombs. No one could be trusted. We listened to shell shocked soldiers explain how men would disappear underneath the ground and reappear several yards later with no skin. We learned we couldn’t trust our President and lost faith in the government as we listened to tales about Watergate from a mysterious informant named Deep Throat, so we were no longer babies. We became hippies and Yippies. We listened to Jimmy Hendrix and Janice Joplin. We watched “MASH” and “Saturday Night Live.” We declared we loved people, not things, not money like our narrow minded parents. We wore bell bottoms and purple beads. Our hair was long, our music loud, our voices defiant. We burned our incense and our bras. Our parents shook their heads and wondered what they had created.

Label #4: Yuppies (1980-1999)

The Self-Serving Years

The war ended. We were tired of being angry, dirty, and hungry. We were still young and we wanted to enjoy life. We traded in our sunflower seeds, organic veggies, and pot for cheeseburgers and beer. Bell bottoms went out of style; bras were back in. We wore matching clothes with little horses, Hang Ten feet, and many labels. Boys wore brightly colored Polos and pants decorated with little animals. Girls wore khaki skirts and button-down shirts. We cut our hair, danced the shag to 50’s music, and decided money was not so bad after all. We owned Apple 2 C’s, shopped at the malls, and spent lots of money on credit cards. We were Yuppies! We were young, urban, professionals. We worked hard and played hard; we made lots of money and spent lots of money.

We liked to look young and act young. We raised our kids to be our "friends” and wondered why they didn’t behave. We learned the word dysfunctional: anything that was wrong with us was a direct result of some stupid mistake our parents had made. We were not to blame for anything we did. We built big brick houses and drove nice cars. Our children went to soccer practice, dance lessons, French lessons, and swim team. We traded in our Apples for IBM’s and worshipped Bill Gates. We watched in amazement as the cold war ended, Russia was no longer “the Evil Empire,” and the wall between East and West Berlin came crumbling down. We thought we were invincible and that we would be young forever.

Label #5: Aging Baby Boomers (2000-present)

The Mature Years

We turned 40 and 50, even with Botox. We were alive at the turn of the century. We worried about the end of the world and Y2K. We began to realize we were no longer young. We liked jeans, even if they were plus sized, and country music. We drove SUV’s , watched Oprah, and made fun of Martha Stewart, even though we secretly longed for matching dishes, cabinets filled with homemade jellies, and hand sewn quilts for our beds. Trading in our cheeseburgers and beer for chicken and wine was tough. We worked on Gateways and Dell’s and exercised on treadmills. We were upset when they threatened to take Celebrex off the Market. We found out so many of us took Prozac that our fresh water fish were even happy. Viagra filled our medicine cabinets. Then, we watched as Twin Towers crumbled to the ground, taking many of us with them. The end of our world had really come. We were shocked, we were sad, and we were angry. We looked for someone to blame. We wanted someone to pay. We cried a lot, got our flags out of the attic, and flew them proudly. We had once again become the baby boomers, believing in the good guys winning, longing for the days of cookies and milk, and picket fences. Once again, a war was started. This time, men and women are dying. This time, we are all involuntarily thrust on the front lines, searching crowds for suspicious faces, putting metal detectors in schools, and clutching our children close beside us.

We are a generation like no other before us and probably no other after us. We are 80 million strong and a force that has changed and will continue to change history, for the better and the worse. Our labels remind us who we are and where we have been.