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Midlife

The Psychology of Midlife Gen X Nostalgia

As Gen X enters solid midlife, recent TV shows take stock of a precarious world.

As we approach the end of the second year of our global COVID-19 pandemic during this holiday season, several television shows, many filmed post-lockdown, have emerged around the theme of taking stock of our lives. The pandemic has fundamentally altered some things in our social consciousness; it exposed how quickly society as we know it can disappear, and how even moving forward, some aspects will never be quite the same. While with vaccinations and masks, we’ve creaked back into a vague simulacrum of life as we knew it pre-COVID, there remains fear and uncertainty and a now chronic and deep sense of vulnerability that we may never quite shake.

Accordingly, Generation X—often considered a forgotten generation, sandwiched between the larger groups of the Boomers and the Millennials—has officially entered older middle-age, with many of us mid-40s to mid-50s now. We are not so old as to expect imminent functional limitations, but not so young as to forget mortality around the corner and watching our aging parents. Many have children now in high school and college, becoming independent Gen Z mouthpieces of their own and establishing a new cultural zeitgeist.

Historical events largely simmered for our generation, with ominous overtones but overall a strange detachment from frontline chaos. The Cold War imbued us with an overarching sense of existential dread but its relatively peaceful end left many of us solipsistic and confused. The Middle East became the next front for global catastrophes, with the two Persian Gulf Wars and 9/11 (the one exception that burst our illusory sheltered reverie), but still on a relatively smaller scale in terms of overall U.S. lives lost compared to WW2 or the Vietnam War.

Many of us instead grew up on a steady diet of virtual reality and technology, numbed to the physical discomfort or labor. Communications slowly became instantaneous and individually masterminded. We began typing and Skyping away our lives to each other, seeking stimulation within the boundaries of what was comfortable. We kept tragedy at arms’ length as much as possible, while a growing underclass suffered and took the brunt of society's need for convenience.

COVID both ruptured and reinforced these assumptions. The underclass was exploited more than ever, sacrificed on the altar of instant gratification. But we also knew so many were hanging in suspended animation in ICUs before ultimately dying; that any vulnerability was mercilessly exploited by this virus, that hundreds of thousands were gone. Even if these massive numbers remain coated with a certain media and societal numbness (with an entrenched wing of straight up denial), many of us know it’s real.

These shows perhaps are attempting to hearken to the wistful innocence of simpler navel-gazing, of the joys of self-gratification for its own sake. "The Real World" was the first reality TV show, airing on the once revolutionary MTV channel, now a vague corporatized shadow of its spirited artistic roots. "The Real World Homecoming" aired in March of this year, reuniting the original cast of the first season in NYC (filmed in 1992) in their original loft, during the height of the pandemic. In fact, one cast member ended up quarantined in a hotel after testing positive and had to participate virtually only. This original cast was a groundbreaking combination of Gen X archetypes: the southern naif, the grunge rocker, the hip-hop queen, etc. Unlike subsequent generations of the show, the participants genuinely had no clue what was happening in this experiment; they were free from the gratuitous self-promotion and preening of typical reality TV stars today.

The show becomes a heartwarming summary of where our generation is at today. Most of the cast (with one notable exception) is comfortable acknowledging how social mores and awareness have changed with regard to race, sexuality, gender, and other important social justice issues raised today. Most are able to exhibit growth, grace, and dignity regarding tolerance and awareness of our need to value diversity and life experience in all its forms.

Sadly, in my view, one cast member isn’t able to shake the dark side of Gen X, our potential narcissism. Rebecca reverts to a defensive me-first stance, one that underscores a fundamental problem with many in our society who cannot shake that sense of ego and fragility in lieu of acknowledging systemic injustices and racial issues larger than any individual affronts at being called culpable.

Another ongoing ensemble comedy show, "It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia," which recently started its 15th season, has traditionally indulged in blinkered Gen X comedy, where edginess for its own sake was the modus operandi (leading to some episodes having aged in a cringeworthy fashion). At least they have always run from the baseline moral assumption that the characters are terrible people, which helps ground some of their excesses. Trying to avoid the stodginess of other similar comedy/comedians like "South Park" or Bill Maher or even Dave Chappelle, who claim their comedic freedom is being constrained by social justice awareness, the newest episodes of "Sunny" at best present a fresher attempt to incorporate that moral consciousness while still skewering with aplomb. The pandemic is smoothly incorporated into their ongoing absurdist schemes.

"Sex and the City" has also returned with a new series, casting doubt on whether the essential premise of the original was ever liberating or just a new form of illusory solipsism as well. The cast was always older Gen X-bridging to Boomer, so they present perhaps a greater generational gap to shift from in terms of their underlying ideas. Charlotte is jarringly dated when she tells Miranda she needs to dye her hair for her return to grad school. Carrie is oddly prudish and uncomfortable discussing sexuality during a podcast. Miranda thoroughly embarrasses herself during her first class with racially iffy comments. It remains to be seen how the characters cope with the modern world, especially when mortality harshly intrudes into the picture.

Overall, Gen X in these shows is trying to face the realities of where we stand in the current life cycle, in the current state of historical upheaval. We grew up during a sheltered 80s conservatism laced with simplistic narratives about progress and self-creation, bolstered by a concomitant technological boom that has not paused to breathe during our lifetimes, until the pandemic. In some ways, it still has not paused, as many workplaces abruptly now shift to all-virtual platforms for better or worse.

In the meantime, technology also permitted greater democratization of marginalized voices, and greater exposure of systemic injustices like police brutality and sexual harassment, while our national demographics also continue to shift in this global economy. Sadly, the same technology has also permitted propaganda-based manipulation of groups who also feel more disenfranchised and uncertain in this rapidly changing world and has led to dangerous political polarization and fears for our democracy.

Our generation is now quietly approaching the helm of senior leadership in our society, but with a very mixed set of values reflecting the various influences we grew up with. Some of us are inspired and open to listening to our progressive younger counterparts. Others of us are riding the coattails of toxic establishment demagogues. At heart, many of us were a lonely latchkey generation, but optimistic and carefree in other ways with our quirky humor, our creative music, and our belief in a peaceful world. Perhaps that kindhearted, laidback maturity is the best thing we can offer to the generations around us, as we move forward in this brave new world.

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