She’s Talkin’ ‘Bout My G-G-Generation
You say you’re smart, you’re powerful, you’re famous and you’re miserable.
You say the media has it in for you, the Republicans are out to get you and the country doesn’t appreciate you.
Whadda ya gonna do?
Who ya gonna call?
Eleanor Roosevelt!
Why is anyone surprised that Hillary Rodham Clinton has sought the services of Jean Houston, co-director of the Foundation for Mind Research? (Doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo.) The garrulous guru who believes in psychic experiences, altered consciousness and nonalcoholic spirits? The only amazing thing is that Hillary hasn’t contacted Dionne Warwick and Shirley MacLaine. At least not that we know of. What’s truly surprising is that she hasn’t moved a palm reader, a head bump feeler and an aura seer into the White House.
Life is tough for Hillary. Think back to 1992. Bill Clinton promised the country a two-for-one administration. A Blue Light Special. Visions of being the beloved co-president danced in Hillary’s head. Today, she’s the maligned no-president. She’s not going to be allowed to address anything more controversial during the 1996 campaign than whether she puts nuts in her chocolate chip cookies.
Of course she’s looking for answers. Aren’t you? And she’s looking in unusual places. Aren’t you? It’s just that her trips to the Twilight Zone sell books. Yours don’t.
Hillary Clinton is a boomer. A child of the ‘60s. She got married in a granny dress. She grew up thinking it was OK to destroy the old corrupt society because she was quite capable of building a new and better one. She’s part of the High-Expectation Generation that believes anything is possible and everything is perfectible.
Bodies, for instance. Gravity can be defied with a personal trainer, an Ab Roller, and a 20-minute commitment three times a week. Nasty habits can be eradicated with the right self-help book.
Unhappiness, boredom, plain old ennui need not be tolerated. Someone, somewhere, has a cure. Maybe it’s yoga. Maybe it’s yogurt. Princess Di keeps her demons at bay with aerobics, aromatherapy, colon irrigations, Prozac and power-shopping. If that doesn’t work, there’s always astrology or reflexology.
Or role-playing with Eleanor Roosevelt.
“Eleanor - may I call you Eleanor? - How did you deal with the constant criticism? The rumors about your husband and other women? People calling you bossy and pushy and making snide remarks about you? Sometimes I don’t even want to get out of bed in the morning. How did you stand it?”
Eleanor Roosevelt probably did not seek guidance from former first ladies or other historical figures. She probably prayed, maybe wept, complained to a couple of friends, and then hitched up her skirt and got on with it.
Baby boomers don’t GET ON WITH IT. They whine and moan and demand to see their every twitch on the cover of Time magazine. They are at the same time arrogant and naive. They believe life’s big questions actually have answers. (Big mistake.) It’s because of all the attention boomers had as they grew up and still have as they grow old. It’s made them unbelievably selfish. They feel special, entitled, smarter, healthier, prettier and better than any other generation.
Which is why they were able to so joyfully reject their parents’ values and lifestyles. The parents stayed married. The boomers got divorced. The parents made do with one salary. They can’t get by with two. The parents couldn’t wait to assume responsibilities: marriage, kids, mortgages. They postponed them as long as possible. The parents dressed like grown-ups, in suits, dresses and real hats. They dress like children in shorts and T-shirts, sneakers and caps. The parents never expected much out of life. Boomers expect everything.
Which is why they’re often so disappointed and depressed. And why Hillary Clinton talks to Eleanor Roosevelt.
Is there any harm? Think of other first ladies. Betty Ford dealt with life’s pain the old-fashioned way: She anesthetized herself with alcohol and Valium. Was that a better choice?
There is one problem with Hillary calling the First Lady Hot Line. She may get a busy signal. Or a crossed wire. What if she reaches out to Eleanor Roosevelt and gets Jackie Kennedy instead?
“Hi, it’s me, Hillary. I’ve about had it. First there was Gennifer Flowers, then Paula Jones, and now some former FBI agent says my husband is slipping out to have trysts with God-knows-who. And I’m the one who gets blamed for everything! Travelgate, Filegate, Whitewatergate. They say they’re my fault. I just tried to do what I thought was best for the country. I tried to reform health care, save the environment, raise the status of women, redefine the role of first lady, OK, make a little money on a few investments, and find a flattering hairstyle. Does that make me a bad person? Nobody loves me. Nobody appreciates me. Nobody even says thank you. What should I do?”
“Go shopping.”
xxxx