Am I a millennial at heart?

Talking Point A series on anything that's something to talk about

Last week, I watched a snatch of a YouTube video - a talk given by life coach Simon Sinek, on the "problems" he encounters while he's wisening up to "millennial" ways. Now, I've had a problem with the word 'millennial' ever since I first heard it - don't remember exactly when (probably gained currency over the past couple of years), but I know the term is being bandied around a lot at work these days. Because millennials are the next big hope and, therefore, the most important 'target group'. The world - for the next few years, at least - belongs to them, till the post-millennials come along and retire them.
I was relieved to, finally, realise what the word means: those born in 1984, and after (I'd somehow assumed millennials were those born around the new millennium, but Simon Sinek gave me the much-needed clarity in his lovely dictioned prose).
But relief quickly gave way to confusion. So here's my problem with "understanding" millennials: how can a 32-year-old be clubbed in the same category as a 14-year-old? How can they both be similarly attuned and, therefore, profess common sensibilities (which we - in the newspaper industry - are trying very hard to identify in the vain hope that we can offer content their attention-wavering/deficit minds can latch on to)?
"Again, what are we?" I asked a friend who's "sort of" from my vintage (picked up that turn of phrase from Conrad Black, when, on a debate-style TV show, he referred to Denise Donlon, at least a decade and a half younger than him, as being "sort of" from the same vintage as him. All this happened, I reckon, because they were the baby boomers railed against - you got it! - the millennials).
"We're Gen X," he said solemnly, while popping a piece of batter-fried prawn into his mouth. "We are the lost generation actually - we have so much overlap with millennials. I mean, intellectually."
"Like how?" I asked, checking Facebook on my phone.
"Well, for one, both us and them like Facebook."
"And that's intellectual?" I was now wondering why my friend, who lives in Pennsylvania and who's always, always on Facebook - even in the dead of the night in her corner of the world - hadn't liked my new mobile upload, a picture of a chilli and garlic-infused pizza.
"Yes, silly," he continued chomping. "We have similar mindshare on, say, umm, social media. Relationships even."
"But not music," I mused. "I hate the new-fangled noise the millennials listen to."
"That's because you're a freak," he concluded. "What's there not to be gaga over Lady Gaga?"
I have never been up-to-date with my musical preferences. For instance, in the '90s, I almost always preferred the dated Bee Gees to the topical Boyzone (though Boyzone actually did an awesome cover of Bee Gees' Words; I specially liked the raindrops-drenched video on MTV). And don't even get me started on Elvis Presley or Bobby Darin or Kishore Kumar.
But other than the musical note, I realise I'm more like a millennial than I've been given credit for. One hallmark of this 0 to 32-year-old lot is that they like binge-watching television shows. "Because they can," Simon said. They do not have to wait for the weekly episode of The Wonder Years or Beverly Hills 90210 to be aired like I did way back in the 1990s. Netflix was practically invented for them. Thank heavens for that overlap in my lifetime - now that I've tasted blood, I would seriously go starkers if I had to wait for Frank Underwood's next devious move in House of Cards for an entire week. What's more, much before I got hooked onto Netflix - and much before I had stumbled on to the word 'millennial' - I discovered box-sets, and would spend entire weekends in parasitical delight, feeding off reels and reels of Desperate Housewives, Everybody Loves Raymond, Grey's Anatomy and so on.
Sinek specifically mentioned millennials would be most likely to keep cellphones next to them while they catch up with restful slumber at night. My phone, too, is kept on my bedside table, and when I open my eyes in the morning, I reach out for it on reflex (and if there was someone lying next to me, I'd obviously not wish that person "Good morning, sunshine" - who does that?).
My absolute favourite nocturnal activity is cracking inane quizzes on Playbuzz. There's nothing paranormal about it, like Simon would have us believe: I just cannot get sleep if I don't figure out what my inner animal is or who's likely to be my Hollywood husband (snagged Ryan Gosling last time around).
I spent a considerable amount of time contemplating my millennial traits, thanks to Simon Sinek. I have lots. Maybe I am a millennial after all. Like my friend said. Intellectually.
sushmita@khaleejtimes.com