The Tribune

By INIGO 'NAUGHTY' ZENICAZELAYA

THESE days it seems, every nook and cranny is crawling with an infestation of terror and destruction that would rival any of those plagues found in The Good Book.

You guessed it, “millennials”.

Ah, yes, I remember the free-for-all, happy-go-lucky days of youthful existence.

We all had our go-to fun filled outlets in our day, and the older we got the more daring we became.

Mothers’ cars were rolled out of driveways right after midnight with the stealth and precision of a Navy Seal Unit.

The cars were rolled down the street until out of earshot, started up and driven off to the hottest night spots (where entry was a separate mission entirely).

Back then, the only Grand Theft Auto we knew of was an inside job that - if executed correctly from start to finish - could elevate the perpetrator to legendary status among his peers.

Massive parties were organised in the blink of an eye (once Mom and Dad had confirmed their arrival at their vacation destination).

As to not expose certain persons who have since attained lofty status in this community, I will not comment any further on said events. (No need to rehash their escapades with beer funnels, livestock and other sordid oddities!)

By all standards of the day these brazen parties and joyrides were considered “extreme” actions or events. (I’m quite sure as you read this an event or two from your past has crept to the front of your brain).

Either you’re smiling or cringing, or both. (Enjoy the memory regardless).

Sadly, I was informed recently by my best friend’s son (a 15-year-old hybrid between a skateboarder, MMA fighter, BMX/ motor cross rider and pit-bull breeder) that what his father and I did in our generation was not “extreme”, but rather boring, mischievous behaviour.

He may have even used the word lame.

“Snotty Scotty” (as I affectionately call him) proceeded to expound on the difference between “Generation X” and “Generation Next”.

As he explained the many ways the “millennials” dwindle away their summer days whilst endangering all around them in the name of cool points, I realised this new, young, “extreme” generation has taken one too many hits to the head while practising their “extreme” moves.

Being a fan of most things old school, I have had about enough of this as I can take, and since there is no time like the present I must now deal with the matter.

The matter being the utter disregard for the accomplishments and legacies left behind for the next generation by the previous generation.

Truly, If we didn’t do what we did the bar wouldn’t be set, and you would have nothing to shoot for “millennials” since in order to be “extreme” you must first break rules that have never been broken, ride that which has never been ridden, and do things which have not been done.

As you look to surpass greatness (or lameness, depending on your point of view), let me first tell you what is not “extreme,” youngsters.

Pulling off a 360 degree skateboard trick as you avoid a tour bus as you blaze down the entrance to the Atlantis going against the flow of traffic is not “extreme”. Determining how far you can pop a wheelie riding down the middle of Bay Street with no helmet on is not “extreme”. Sporting a radical hair style with a fashion fiasco wardrobe to match, as in t-shirts expressing teenage angst to the world and “shants” (I still haven’t figured out if they’re shorts or pants) is not “extreme.” The multiple piercings that make you youngsters look like you’re about to spring a leak (maybe that’s where some common sense has evaporated from) is not “extreme.”

Nor is collecting the latest ‘Fort Night’ skins. (Ah the inventor of Fort Night, now that’s someone I want to torture slowly).

Do you want to know what is really “extreme” little ones? “Extreme” is waking up very early every day and going to work to provide for a family.

Paying all your bills on time (especially in this economy) for many is considered “extreme”.

Cooking dinner, transporting “extreme” kids to and from their required activities and cleaning up after these “extremely” messy kids is what’s extreme these days, because with the average child staying with Mom and Dad into their thirties there’s really no end in sight!

Extreme!

Balancing your relationship with your spouse and finishing all the domestic things your wife dreams up around the house is “extreme”.

Tune up the car, landscape the yard, play with a five month old who is teething, trying to win a game of ‘Madden’ against ‘millennials’ who know how to cheat…now that’s “extreme!”

In the adult world, a world you hopefully will have not an inkling of for many, many, many years to come, what is considered “extreme” would figuratively blow away your literally bruised minds.

Watching you all make your way through this world is “extreme”. (And most times, comical).

There are high hopes that you will be the generation to find cures for diseases, end hunger and bring forth world peace because so far we “X-ers” have not accomplished all that.

Now that this week’s column is out of the way. I’m going to kick back, and daydream of my eventual days as a senior citizen.

Where I will sit on the sidewalk, waiting to bump an oncoming kid, riding on a bicycle or a hover board, completely off their ‘cool points’ mode of transportation. In order to remind them that it is life, which is extreme!

Until next week I will leave you with the words of actress Katherine Hepburn -

“Life is hard. After all, it kills you.”