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Balsamic Dreams: A Short But Self-Important History of the Baby Boomer Generation
From the bestselling author of Red Lobster, White Trash and the Blue Lagoon comes a vintage Queenan tirade chronicling the evolution of his own Baby Boomer Generation. How did a generation that started out at Woodstock and Monterey end up at Crate & Barrel? How did a generation that promised to "teach its children well" end up with a progeny so evil they could give Damien from The Omen a run for his money? And what is so fascinating about porcini mushrooms? Professional iconoclast Queenan shows how a generation with so much promise lost its way by confusing pop culture with culture and mistaking lifestyle for life.
Queenan on The "Baby Boomers who never saw Hendrix, did drugs, locked or loaded an AK-47 in country or bedded down with a girl named Radiance now all pretend they did. It's like those Civil War reenactment buffs who have drunk so much Wild Turkey they actually think they were at Chickamauga."
Queenan on Death : "A generation whose primary cultural artifact is the Filofax has enormous difficulty shoehorning death into its it's inconvenient, time-consuming and stressful. ' We don't have time to die this afternoon; Caitlin has ballet. '"
Queenan on The "Baby Boomers who never saw Hendrix, did drugs, locked or loaded an AK-47 in country or bedded down with a girl named Radiance now all pretend they did. It's like those Civil War reenactment buffs who have drunk so much Wild Turkey they actually think they were at Chickamauga."
Queenan on Death : "A generation whose primary cultural artifact is the Filofax has enormous difficulty shoehorning death into its it's inconvenient, time-consuming and stressful. ' We don't have time to die this afternoon; Caitlin has ballet. '"
224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2001
6 people are currently reading
112 people want to read
About the author
Joe Queenan
46 books90 followersJoe Queenan is a humorist, critic and author from Philadelphia who graduated from Saint Joseph's University. He has written for numerous publications, such as Spy Magazine, TV Guide, Movieline, The Guardian and the New York Times Book Review. He has written eight books, including Balsamic Dreams, a scathing critique of the Baby Boomers, Red Lobster, White Trash, and the Blue Lagoon, a tour of low-brow American pop culture and Imperial Caddy, a fairly scathing view of Dan Quayle and the American Vice-Presidency.
Queenan's work is noted for his caustic wit.
Queenan's work is noted for his caustic wit.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 37 reviews
January 9, 2011
There are a few spot-on observations here:
Baby boomers ... embraced a complete Lifestyle Uber Alles philosophy.
By turning spectacularly humdrum occurrences into formal rites, Baby Boomers have transmuted even the most banal activities into "events."
But Joe Queenan is one of the worst examples of a generation, a self-appointed blowhard-in-chief. After 133 pages, I'm done.
Baby boomers ... embraced a complete Lifestyle Uber Alles philosophy.
By turning spectacularly humdrum occurrences into formal rites, Baby Boomers have transmuted even the most banal activities into "events."
But Joe Queenan is one of the worst examples of a generation, a self-appointed blowhard-in-chief. After 133 pages, I'm done.
July 11, 2009
After reading and pushing Queenan's excellent memoir, Closing Time, to anyone who would listen, I read this one. A friend of mine told me that his humor was very mean spirited, and now I understand. Was this supposed to be funny? To lump all baby boomers into the self-absorbed pot made him seem self-absorbed and an old fart, or into his own Gen X world. I cannot believe that he lived through this era and would write a book like this. What a waste of time. Don't waste yours!
April 23, 2023
I suppose that this book has moments where it might make some people laugh. As a tail-end baby boomer, I found this satirical look at the generation of baby boomers so superficial that it made me mad. I know boomers who are foster parents, missionaries, champions of movements, writers, and terrific parents, and now that they are empty nesters they are returning their energies to the activism of their youth. This book was a motivating factor for me to take up my desire to become a writer with a new fervor. I didn't want this smug smart-ass to speak for my generation. I'm writing this years after reading Balsamic, but when I saw the picture on the cover a little bile rose up in the back of my throat.
June 24, 2008
He used to be on a radio station I listened to and I liked his sense of humor, but this book sucked for me.
July 3, 2022
This book sounded like a funny read; I’m used to seeing Boomers (yes, I was born in 1954, so that’s me, too) slagged on the internet but usually not in a humorous way, so I thought this would make a nice change.
I was disappointed. Yes, some of it is funny- very much so. But he repeats himself from chapter to chapter. And, while he’s funny, he’s mean spirited. He may be a Boomer himself, but it’s obvious he despises a lot of his fellow cohort. He seems to think that being ‘cool’ is all that most of us think about, but we are hardly the only generation to do so. Witness man buns, midnight bike rides, young folks who are every bit as organic and holistic as the original hippies, the reverence for Mid-Century Modern, and a renewal of thrifting for style, not just for economics. The trends for growing one’s own fruit and vegetables (something almost mandatory for the Greatest Generation), as has macrame, crafting your own possessions, and vegetarianism. And the majority of the truly toxic (as opposed to just stereotypical) Boomers are in the upper-middle class; those of us in the lower economic levels didn’t go into arbitrage, turn into stock manipulators, or develop companies that destroyed the environment. We didn’t go from driving a VW to driving a giant SUV, we just changed to driving an old Subaru when the VW parts dried up. Yes, there are those of us at all economic (and toxicity levels) who liked Tapestry and CSN&Y. But despite his sneering at ‘cool’, he himself seems to have never done anything just for fun- heaven forbid he should listen to music that isn’t cool, or wear a T-shirt just because he still likes Emerson, Lake, & Palmer. He’s like the bully in high school who never actually hit anyone, but just threw barbed witticisms at his victims.
Even though he’s a Boomer, he wants all of us Boomers to get off of his lawn. Two stars.
I was disappointed. Yes, some of it is funny- very much so. But he repeats himself from chapter to chapter. And, while he’s funny, he’s mean spirited. He may be a Boomer himself, but it’s obvious he despises a lot of his fellow cohort. He seems to think that being ‘cool’ is all that most of us think about, but we are hardly the only generation to do so. Witness man buns, midnight bike rides, young folks who are every bit as organic and holistic as the original hippies, the reverence for Mid-Century Modern, and a renewal of thrifting for style, not just for economics. The trends for growing one’s own fruit and vegetables (something almost mandatory for the Greatest Generation), as has macrame, crafting your own possessions, and vegetarianism. And the majority of the truly toxic (as opposed to just stereotypical) Boomers are in the upper-middle class; those of us in the lower economic levels didn’t go into arbitrage, turn into stock manipulators, or develop companies that destroyed the environment. We didn’t go from driving a VW to driving a giant SUV, we just changed to driving an old Subaru when the VW parts dried up. Yes, there are those of us at all economic (and toxicity levels) who liked Tapestry and CSN&Y. But despite his sneering at ‘cool’, he himself seems to have never done anything just for fun- heaven forbid he should listen to music that isn’t cool, or wear a T-shirt just because he still likes Emerson, Lake, & Palmer. He’s like the bully in high school who never actually hit anyone, but just threw barbed witticisms at his victims.
Even though he’s a Boomer, he wants all of us Boomers to get off of his lawn. Two stars.
August 27, 2019
Clever self-parody
It has been my self-appointed and of course dubious task to bring the Wit and Wisdom of Joe Queenan to the attention of the Amazon.com book-buying public, lo these many months. To that end I have reviewed two of his books and endeavored to emulate (and explain) his comedic style in the text of my reviews so that the reader might fully appreciate what a great comedic genius the guy really is. I mean, after all, he was born and raised in Philadelphia. But have I been rewarded? Has he even tossed me the barest, driest, most scrawny bone of thanks? No, he hasn't. Does he even acknowledge my existence as one who has so carefully studied his style as to become that style? (The man becomes the style?) Not a chance. So now I have to come forward with the unvarnished. I have to let it be known that I invented Joe Queenan.
Yes, fellow Amazonians, it was during my undergraduate years at UCLA where I held forth as the Editorial Editor of the Daily Bruin that I invented in pseudonym Joe Queenan. I called him "Jay Akin" and I wrote for him a column entitled "The New Prejudices" after his psychic mentor H. L. Mencken. As Casey Stengel said, "You could look it up." (Try 1967.)
But I am not going to sue Joe even though he has appropriated my style, stolen my substance, assumed my persona, seduced my readership and sold me Microsoft at 104. No, but I am going to drill little holes in the corks of his bottles of Lafitte Rothschild 1974 so that when he decants them they will taste a little like the Balsamic vinegar of his title.
Anyway, this is his latest opus and it is just as mean spirted and hilarious as the other two I have read. Only this time instead of going after the pop icons of do-gooder land (as in My Goodness: A Cynic's Short-lived Search for Sainthood (2000)) or the much beloved idols of Celebrityland, especially the left-wing variety (as in If You're Talking to Me, Your Career Must Be in Trouble: Movies, Mayhem and Malice (1994)), here Joe takes on the entire Baby Boomer generation, finding us vilely two-faced, contemptuously mediocre, insipidly uninspired, conspicuously consumptive, banally boring, and just downright dorky, with of course not the slightest insight into our own nature. He gives himself license for this task after first assuming the generation as his own, perhaps the better to disarm us. As always his eye is sharp and his rapier even sharper, and as usual he goes after the usual suspects: anything he thinks is phony, and anybody who takes him- or herself too seriously, i.e., Sting, Jane Fonda, Ben & Jerry, The Bhagavad Gita, etc. (Joe, dude, those horses are dead! You killed 'em last time! Yes, but they keep coming back to life like kudzu.)
In the first chapter Joe sets forth the crimes of his generation: e.g., "The unseemly search for the Fountain of Youth," "The concept of selective virtue," "Hypocrisy as a manageable lifestyle," etc. In the second he details the "High Misdemeanors," such as "Ostentatious displays of multicultural sensitivity," "That whole Eastern thing," "Totally unacceptable hair" ("There is a point at which middle-aged men with Art Garfunkelian hair cease to be foolish-looking and actually start frightening the people around them."), etc. Joe's ear for the pop culture is supersensitive and his ability to absorb and regurgitate same is phenomenal. Three of the chapters are named after rock lyrics, "What a Fool Believes," "Play that Funky Music, White Boy," and "Good Lovin' Gone Bad," appropriated, of course, for their sardonic value. In fact, there are perhaps a hundred snippets of rock and roll lyrics embedded in the text. Revealing, by the way, that he originally had another book in mind--but so what? In the chapter entitled "Ten Days that Rocked the World" (that is, the world of the Baby Boomers) we have not only June 15, 1979, the day Rocky II was released, but December 17, 1973, the day of the Chilean wine boycott by politically conscious Americans willing to sacrifice for a Greater Good. As can be easily seen, Joe Queenan is a social critic who can take his place alongside not just H. L. Mencken and Jay Akin, but Terry Southern, Dwight MacDonald, Mark Twain, Jonathan Swift and Voltaire.
Okay, so that was a little toady. But you never know, he might send me a copy of his Red Lobster, White Trash, and the Blue Lagoon, which I haven't been able to locate. (The title alone inspires rapt anticipation.) Or barring that, he might comp me a subscription to GQ, where he is a contributing editor. Or, what the hey, maybe he'll send me a note about when he's appearing on TV so I can see if his pot gut is as tidy as mine is at 193 lbs (author's fighting weight as actually noted on the cover).
Discerning readers will notice the striking similarities among Queenan's baby boomers, H. L. Mencken's booboisie (boobus americanus), from his Prejudices (1917-1927), and David Brooks's bobos, from his Bobos in Paradise (2000).
--Dennis Littrell, author of “The World Is Not as We Think It Is”
It has been my self-appointed and of course dubious task to bring the Wit and Wisdom of Joe Queenan to the attention of the Amazon.com book-buying public, lo these many months. To that end I have reviewed two of his books and endeavored to emulate (and explain) his comedic style in the text of my reviews so that the reader might fully appreciate what a great comedic genius the guy really is. I mean, after all, he was born and raised in Philadelphia. But have I been rewarded? Has he even tossed me the barest, driest, most scrawny bone of thanks? No, he hasn't. Does he even acknowledge my existence as one who has so carefully studied his style as to become that style? (The man becomes the style?) Not a chance. So now I have to come forward with the unvarnished. I have to let it be known that I invented Joe Queenan.
Yes, fellow Amazonians, it was during my undergraduate years at UCLA where I held forth as the Editorial Editor of the Daily Bruin that I invented in pseudonym Joe Queenan. I called him "Jay Akin" and I wrote for him a column entitled "The New Prejudices" after his psychic mentor H. L. Mencken. As Casey Stengel said, "You could look it up." (Try 1967.)
But I am not going to sue Joe even though he has appropriated my style, stolen my substance, assumed my persona, seduced my readership and sold me Microsoft at 104. No, but I am going to drill little holes in the corks of his bottles of Lafitte Rothschild 1974 so that when he decants them they will taste a little like the Balsamic vinegar of his title.
Anyway, this is his latest opus and it is just as mean spirted and hilarious as the other two I have read. Only this time instead of going after the pop icons of do-gooder land (as in My Goodness: A Cynic's Short-lived Search for Sainthood (2000)) or the much beloved idols of Celebrityland, especially the left-wing variety (as in If You're Talking to Me, Your Career Must Be in Trouble: Movies, Mayhem and Malice (1994)), here Joe takes on the entire Baby Boomer generation, finding us vilely two-faced, contemptuously mediocre, insipidly uninspired, conspicuously consumptive, banally boring, and just downright dorky, with of course not the slightest insight into our own nature. He gives himself license for this task after first assuming the generation as his own, perhaps the better to disarm us. As always his eye is sharp and his rapier even sharper, and as usual he goes after the usual suspects: anything he thinks is phony, and anybody who takes him- or herself too seriously, i.e., Sting, Jane Fonda, Ben & Jerry, The Bhagavad Gita, etc. (Joe, dude, those horses are dead! You killed 'em last time! Yes, but they keep coming back to life like kudzu.)
In the first chapter Joe sets forth the crimes of his generation: e.g., "The unseemly search for the Fountain of Youth," "The concept of selective virtue," "Hypocrisy as a manageable lifestyle," etc. In the second he details the "High Misdemeanors," such as "Ostentatious displays of multicultural sensitivity," "That whole Eastern thing," "Totally unacceptable hair" ("There is a point at which middle-aged men with Art Garfunkelian hair cease to be foolish-looking and actually start frightening the people around them."), etc. Joe's ear for the pop culture is supersensitive and his ability to absorb and regurgitate same is phenomenal. Three of the chapters are named after rock lyrics, "What a Fool Believes," "Play that Funky Music, White Boy," and "Good Lovin' Gone Bad," appropriated, of course, for their sardonic value. In fact, there are perhaps a hundred snippets of rock and roll lyrics embedded in the text. Revealing, by the way, that he originally had another book in mind--but so what? In the chapter entitled "Ten Days that Rocked the World" (that is, the world of the Baby Boomers) we have not only June 15, 1979, the day Rocky II was released, but December 17, 1973, the day of the Chilean wine boycott by politically conscious Americans willing to sacrifice for a Greater Good. As can be easily seen, Joe Queenan is a social critic who can take his place alongside not just H. L. Mencken and Jay Akin, but Terry Southern, Dwight MacDonald, Mark Twain, Jonathan Swift and Voltaire.
Okay, so that was a little toady. But you never know, he might send me a copy of his Red Lobster, White Trash, and the Blue Lagoon, which I haven't been able to locate. (The title alone inspires rapt anticipation.) Or barring that, he might comp me a subscription to GQ, where he is a contributing editor. Or, what the hey, maybe he'll send me a note about when he's appearing on TV so I can see if his pot gut is as tidy as mine is at 193 lbs (author's fighting weight as actually noted on the cover).
Discerning readers will notice the striking similarities among Queenan's baby boomers, H. L. Mencken's booboisie (boobus americanus), from his Prejudices (1917-1927), and David Brooks's bobos, from his Bobos in Paradise (2000).
--Dennis Littrell, author of “The World Is Not as We Think It Is”
June 18, 2017
Joe Queenan is a capable writer, but if he is capable of being funny Balsamic Dreams is not proof. The Baby Boomer generation is a huge clown faced target over ripe for lampooning, this book is not the lampoon to look for.
:( :( :( :( :( :(
I can just hear readers saying: "But I Know people like that". Ok so do I , that does not make this funny. I know people who are not like that, does that make anything funny?
When Martin Luther posted his indictment of the Roman Catholic Church, a lot of people said "I know Bishops like that!" and " I know Popes like that!" Yet Luther is never listed as a comedian. This is a guy who had Scheisse fights with the devil incarnate and no one reads his essays on the Comedy Channel.
I was really looking forward to Joe Queenan's Balsamic Dreams. I am from the trailing edge of the Boomer Generation. That means I got to watch free love turn to AIDS, before I could properly indulge. I got to observe the "mother nature's best" turn into addiction berore I could be a flower child. I watched as riots in Chicago ruined the election hopes of a democratic candidate just so we could have the Watergate hearings that would end a republican presidency and then have those same graduates of the flower power generation elect Ronald Reagan. Then having tuned out, they then tuned into Rush Limbaugh.
Never mind what your politics may be, this flow of events cries for biting satire. Queenan bites, but he does not understand how to make it funny. It does not help that he guarantees that this book has no future by running long lists of names, mostly of bands, without lifting a finger to explain why he fills pages with those rock musicians he anoints as cool while denying the musicality of those he rates as un-cool. By the end of the book it becomes clear that he has never thought about listening to music for the pleasure of listening, he only relates to music as something that is either cool or uncool.
I got to page 106 when I almost smiled for the first time. The subject was hats at funerals.
Chapter 9, American History the B-side could have been funny. He manages to lump together every imaginable politically correct cliche in an effort to write a boomer version of American history. This chapter could have been funny and read alone it might be. After the unrelenting weight of 8 chapters of negativity it is hard to read this in the kind of mood necessary to engender laughter.
Not content to attack the huge target known as the Baby Boomers, he questions the preceding generation's right to the title "The Greatest Generation". Never mind his lame case against the survivors of the dust bowl, the depression and the winners of World War II, he misses what the returning Warriors did to create the mind-set of the Boomer generation. The greatest generation gave us Madison Avenue. Not content to help us decide to buy things we knew we wanted, the Mad Ave of Post WWII learned how to teach us to buy things we had never previously thought about wanting. We were taught to be brand conscious, to assume that we will always be young and to assume the ready availability of choices.
What are some of the most often repeated complaints Queenan repeats most often? Boomers refuse to get old. Boomers expect to have choices and Boomers are particular of the provenance of our Balsamic Vinegar. I suggest that being the first TV generation we were the most lied too generation in history. In fact, Mad Av. made the decision that different age groups were different niches in the market and thereby created the notion of named generations. About the only age group before boomers to have their own name was the so called `lost generation, and that term was never applied to everyone in an age group.
That is a rather serious analysis. It would not have occurred to me to make it except that Balsamic Dreams in failing to be funny invites serious analysis. If only I could understand why Queenan keeps recalling the four dead in Ohio. Hardly a topic for satire and hardly one to be toss around if your goal is to be funny.
:( :( :( :( :( :(
I can just hear readers saying: "But I Know people like that". Ok so do I , that does not make this funny. I know people who are not like that, does that make anything funny?
When Martin Luther posted his indictment of the Roman Catholic Church, a lot of people said "I know Bishops like that!" and " I know Popes like that!" Yet Luther is never listed as a comedian. This is a guy who had Scheisse fights with the devil incarnate and no one reads his essays on the Comedy Channel.
I was really looking forward to Joe Queenan's Balsamic Dreams. I am from the trailing edge of the Boomer Generation. That means I got to watch free love turn to AIDS, before I could properly indulge. I got to observe the "mother nature's best" turn into addiction berore I could be a flower child. I watched as riots in Chicago ruined the election hopes of a democratic candidate just so we could have the Watergate hearings that would end a republican presidency and then have those same graduates of the flower power generation elect Ronald Reagan. Then having tuned out, they then tuned into Rush Limbaugh.
Never mind what your politics may be, this flow of events cries for biting satire. Queenan bites, but he does not understand how to make it funny. It does not help that he guarantees that this book has no future by running long lists of names, mostly of bands, without lifting a finger to explain why he fills pages with those rock musicians he anoints as cool while denying the musicality of those he rates as un-cool. By the end of the book it becomes clear that he has never thought about listening to music for the pleasure of listening, he only relates to music as something that is either cool or uncool.
I got to page 106 when I almost smiled for the first time. The subject was hats at funerals.
Chapter 9, American History the B-side could have been funny. He manages to lump together every imaginable politically correct cliche in an effort to write a boomer version of American history. This chapter could have been funny and read alone it might be. After the unrelenting weight of 8 chapters of negativity it is hard to read this in the kind of mood necessary to engender laughter.
Not content to attack the huge target known as the Baby Boomers, he questions the preceding generation's right to the title "The Greatest Generation". Never mind his lame case against the survivors of the dust bowl, the depression and the winners of World War II, he misses what the returning Warriors did to create the mind-set of the Boomer generation. The greatest generation gave us Madison Avenue. Not content to help us decide to buy things we knew we wanted, the Mad Ave of Post WWII learned how to teach us to buy things we had never previously thought about wanting. We were taught to be brand conscious, to assume that we will always be young and to assume the ready availability of choices.
What are some of the most often repeated complaints Queenan repeats most often? Boomers refuse to get old. Boomers expect to have choices and Boomers are particular of the provenance of our Balsamic Vinegar. I suggest that being the first TV generation we were the most lied too generation in history. In fact, Mad Av. made the decision that different age groups were different niches in the market and thereby created the notion of named generations. About the only age group before boomers to have their own name was the so called `lost generation, and that term was never applied to everyone in an age group.
That is a rather serious analysis. It would not have occurred to me to make it except that Balsamic Dreams in failing to be funny invites serious analysis. If only I could understand why Queenan keeps recalling the four dead in Ohio. Hardly a topic for satire and hardly one to be toss around if your goal is to be funny.
June 23, 2010
Maybe I'm being niggardly with my rating on this one, because I really enjoyed it in certain parts. Books of comedy essays almost always have portions that seem to be filler, though, and this book is no exception. Still, I really did like the parts where he talked about the permissiveness of baby boomers in rearing their children, saying that their attitudes shouldn't be called so much child worship as devil worship. I also liked his description of a boomer in his neighborhood called the "Dog Man", who walked his dog using a long leash while driving a car slowly through the neighborhood - "Dog Man" apparently did a cost/benefit analysis of ways to walk his dog, to maximize his ultimate value - typical self-absorbed boomer attitude.
Anyway, worth a look, but not a must, either.
Anyway, worth a look, but not a must, either.
April 8, 2017
I gave this five stars because I think this author hit my generation right on the mark. How many other authors are calling us to be more accountable and aware of our actions? I have always been taken back at the selfish and self-entitled baby-boomers that I meet. (Am I like them? Yes!) That is what makes this funny book so poignant for me. I am living in Southern California, it is a haven for the exact people he describes in this book. So many of his irks and rants are mine that I was smiling while reading it. I am a fan of Joe Queenan now.
January 13, 2018
You know.....when you are home from work sick with the flu whose cough has your rib cage burning, it;s probably not the best idea to pull a book off your shelves that causes you to laugh out loud. My wife was concerned that I was delirious, no, just laughing.
Very funny critique of baby boomers that I have read several times but had been a while. Thought of it when my daughter told me she had fallen in love with Carol King's "Tapestry". If you have read the book, you'll get it. A great way to spend a sick afternoon.
Very funny critique of baby boomers that I have read several times but had been a while. Thought of it when my daughter told me she had fallen in love with Carol King's "Tapestry". If you have read the book, you'll get it. A great way to spend a sick afternoon.
July 7, 2014
I went into this book with high hopes, as the premise sounded fun and the intro was pretty hilarious. But Queenan's skewering of his own generation is ultimately more mean-spirited than funny, and his obvious WASP leanings are constantly at odds with his uncomfortably (and unnecessarily) crude language. I did enjoy his otherwise broad vocabulary; haven't had to look up that many words since my last O. Henry story. I'd have to say don't waste your time on this one.
August 4, 2012
Balsamic Dreams is one of my favorite none fiction books. Joe Queenan paints a brilliant and funny picture of the cultural history of the baby boom from young drugged out metaphysical rebels to Aging self important yuppies trying to hang on to there youth. A great read for both the baby boomers and the children that had to deal with them.
March 10, 2016
Too harsh to get me laughing much. I did find him a kindred spirit in his observation that, if WW2 were the greatest generation, why did they have such a self-indulgent generation of kids? I guess I am not the only person who has wondered that. Anyway, while I find some of his insights refreshing the anger that taints it all is too intense for me.
October 25, 2007
Dead-on skewering of the Baby Boomers is mostly hilarious, though a few chapters near the end seem to be filler. There are many evilly accurate bits to read aloud to the Boomer in one's life, just to watch him get all defensive and huffy.
October 11, 2009
Joe Queenan has an admirable command of language and a well developed sense of sarcasm. In this book, however, his biting humor is more bitter than clever, overpowers the subject matter and makes for a rather unpleasant read.
December 14, 2012
Although he's somewhere over the top, he makes some valid points about how me-centered the Boomers are. He also backs off the dates about 4 years at either end (which means I'm excluded--hurrah!). Pretty funny.
June 16, 2007
Joe Queenan puts his own generation, the Baby Boomers, on trial for their misdeeds and they are tried, convicted, and fried. Very funny.
July 19, 2007
an acerbic critic goes after the boomer generation for self absorption, cowardess, and poor sartorial taste. funny as always, but queenan is now so mean spirited i am tired of him.
November 12, 2007
Not as funny as some of his other books, but worth reading.
November 25, 2007
Baby Boomers, prepare to be embarassed!
April 14, 2008
The point was made early and perhaps that is another aspect of yuppies, even those who berate their own ilk -- they do not know when to end.
August 11, 2009
Not as hilarious as Red Lobster, White Trash and the Blue Lagoon...but still has it's moments.
February 8, 2013
Those damn yuppies/bobos, etc...
October 20, 2018
'All too true excoriation of we boomers.
March 17, 2016
Diatribe against this generation.
Read
June 5, 2016This book was hysterical. Heard it recommended by Alistar Begg
July 14, 2016
Such a funny book. Frequently belly-laugh inducing. Such a welcome and skillfully constructed antidote to current events. Insightful as well.
April 13, 2018
Rather mean spirited, but sort of funny at the same time. This book was written before the rise of the millenials, and I'm really curious as to what he would have to say about them.
October 30, 2018
Joe Queenan deftly skewers his own generation with his pen, or to be accurate, bludgeons them with his word processor.
I think this would have worked better as a magazine article, as he makes his point in the first couple chapters, and then endlessly rehashes the failures of the Baby Boomers again and again. At times it's viciously funny, and at others, just plain vicious.
Disclaimer: I was born in 1960, so I am nominally part of the Baby Boomer Generation, although the seminal events of the 1960's and early '70's are a combination of vague memories and documentaries watched as an adult. Also, I listened to mostly Classical music as a teenager, rather than idolizing the bands of "my generation", so I can applaud his derision in that regard even though I have since come to admire some of the musicians he ridicules.
Still, there are many poison darts that hit their mark, even for me. So I hang my head in shame...while laughing.
I think this would have worked better as a magazine article, as he makes his point in the first couple chapters, and then endlessly rehashes the failures of the Baby Boomers again and again. At times it's viciously funny, and at others, just plain vicious.
Disclaimer: I was born in 1960, so I am nominally part of the Baby Boomer Generation, although the seminal events of the 1960's and early '70's are a combination of vague memories and documentaries watched as an adult. Also, I listened to mostly Classical music as a teenager, rather than idolizing the bands of "my generation", so I can applaud his derision in that regard even though I have since come to admire some of the musicians he ridicules.
Still, there are many poison darts that hit their mark, even for me. So I hang my head in shame...while laughing.
July 31, 2020
(Audio) My wife bought this and listened to it and recommended it with a reservation or two. I enjoyed it in the beginning but began to hate the author by the third tape: he puts down a lot of culture that I like and I wonder who the hell made him the culture god. He is guilty of padding and the book got poor reviews on Amazon. But my wife doesn't care about reviews. 5/19/03
Displaying 1 - 30 of 37 reviews