originally found
here. But why get swamped with ads when you can just read it below?
Anyway, I loved this:
The Times They Are A-Changin'
Why I stand apart from my generation. As far apart as possible.
By Albert Brooks
Newsweek
Nov 14, 2005 issue - So NEWSWEEK tells me they're working on a cover story about a generation getting ready to turn 60. They ask me if I want to write something. I say, "Are you insane?" You want to do a magazine cover about turning 60? Do you want to go out of business?
Do you want newsstands to protest and young people to get sick? And by the way, I'm 58, not 60. I personally don't associate with 60-year-olds. But I'll write something.
Recently I have been embarrassed to be part of this generation. The reason? Madison Avenue. Madison Avenue is never wrong. They're the neighbor across the street that sees you in the way you don't see yourself. They're young, they're cocky, and what they say about the older generation becomes the truth. People still think there was a real Mr. Whipple, so I know whatever Madison Avenue says about us is what everyone's going to believe anyway.
According to them, we started out changing the world, and now we're most concerned about our retirement plan. And just to rub it in, they're using the greatest songs from our generation and combining them with images of people with gray hair having fun, enjoying life, buying products and running in slow motion. They are taking the very things we were born to change and are now shoving them down our throats, with our own music as the lubricant.
Last night I was in my office and the TV was on in the other room. I heard Bob Dylan singing "The Times They Are A-Changin'." I got excited. I ran into the next room, in slow motion of course, thinking maybe it was the Dylan documentary that Marty Scorsese did. It wasn't. It was a commercial for Kaiser Permanente. It's an effective commercial, because after I saw it I wanted to go to the hospital. Goddamn you guys, you are screwing with our best songs. I used to feel good when I heard that song. It reminded me of what could be and the life ahead of us and all that great stuff. Now I hear it and I think of health-care and prescription-drug coverage. Thanks, Bob.
I decided not to go to my 40th high-school reunion. I knew what I would see there and I knew it would depress me. I am now going to reveal a dark secret. Something I was told a long time ago and had promised never to divulge... Are you ready? Thirty years ago aliens came down here from a planet named Zeon. They gathered all the plastic surgeons in the world and took them into a cave. They showed them pictures of what the Zeonites looked like, and they said, "You must make all earthlings over 50 look like this." And the plastic surgeons did. WAKE UP. WE LOOK LIKE CRAP. My entire generation looks like they're standing in the hurricane-demonstration room. I call them my Category 2 friends. Their lips are the size of their feet. They take fat from their ass and put in their face. They inject botulism to ward off expression. All to look like Zeonites. Exactly who thinks this looks better than a wrinkle? I'll tell you who: other Category 2s. They're all pulled so tight they can't see clearly, literally. Pull your eyes back right now as you're reading this. The words are blurry, aren't they? That's the way Category 2s see. And that's why they think they look good.
It's not that we didn't try. We did. We actually had the system by the throat for a whole minute. But the system won. The system doesn't get tired, or get arrested, or have screaming children who need things. The system is patient. It held up houses and cars and boats and we said, "We don't need that!" And the system said, "I'll wait. And while I'm waiting I might even get bigger, just for the fun of it." And damn it, when the drugs wore off and the love wasn't free anymore, those houses and cars started to look good.
I was feeling OK about us, I really was, that is until Madison Avenue stepped in and told me the truth. Aging is like going through a funnel. You start out with so much room, spinning so fast, wondering just how far you can go, but in the end you wind up going through that hole. That little hole. And since you can't take it with you, Kaiser Permanente wants it. I just wish Bob Dylan had held out a bit longer. I don't think Kaiser deserved that song. I think he should have saved "The Times They Are A-Changin' " for Depends.
Albert Brooks is an actor, writer and director. His new movie, "Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World," follows the travels of a comedian named Albert Brooks who's sent by the United States government to India and Pakistan to investigate the Muslim funny bone. It will be in theaters in January.Also, I thought you folks might want this info (even I didn't know this reference, and my brain is full of useless trivia):
Mr. Whipple is a fictional supermarket manager featured in television advertisements that ran in the United States from 1965 to 1989 for Charmin-brand toilet paper. In unvarying repetition, he scolds women who "squeeze the Charmin," while hypocritically fondling the temptingly squeezable rolls himself.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr._Whipple