~If you say it’s okay for other people, but you don’t want your child in an interracial relationship, then you’re probably a hypocrite.
~If you yell at your kids for smoking a joint, but hit the bar after work before driving home drunk, you could be a hypocrite.
~If you’re one of these people who are flabbergasted by Miley Cyrus, Teen Mom or Justin Bieber’s behavior, then you’re probably a hypocrite.
Every time I tune into the TV, read an article on the internet, or scroll through my facebook feed, there’s somebody going on about how they just can’t believe the behavior kids are exhibiting these days. These teen stars do more drugs, drink more alcohol, and exchange more bodily fluids than most of us could have hoped for at one time or another. Don’t lie to yourself—most of our teenage selves just wanted to do more drugs, drink more alcohol and have more sex. The only difference between our teenage selves and Miley Cyrus or Justin Bieber is that our broke asses didn’t have what they have.
Over the years I’ve noticed I’m a lot less tolerant of famous youth than I once was. Could it be envy over their paychecks? Maybe so. Could it be outrage towards parents who have let these protégés grow up with no guidance, so they could wreak havoc in our streets? Beat women? Speed down the roads our children play in? And then they go perform lewd acts on national television that my children will no doubt one day emulate? Hell yes, I feel a lot of outrage over parents who don’t give their kids any Act Right. But that’s true for parents of the wild, rich and famous and ordinary parents who, instead of handling their parenting business, will shrug and offer one of those sorrynotsorry apologies after their kid punches yours in the face on the playground. Oh that Joey. He’s just all boy.
Let me paint a scenario for you. Let’s go back to age sixteen. Let’s give you two million dollars. Let’s give your parents a laissez-faire attitude. Let’s give you notoriety and access to all things cool. How long would it take for you to be arrested? How long would it take for you to admit you have a drug problem? Me? It would have been a year or two. I’d have made the news every night for behavior so outlandish you would have thought I was shooting a Tarantino movie. Shit, I used to act like a pimp with a twenty in my pocket. I didn’t even need the two million dollars.
Every one of us could have been a Miley Cyrus/Teen Mom/Justin Bieber train wreck years ago. The only things that make our teenage selves any different from Miley are camera phones and the internet. Imagine how the following information would have traveled in the age of the internet:
– that time you had sex with two girls in a bathroom stall
– that time you smoked dope with your high school teacher
– that time you got a wire hanger stuck under your foreskin (true story)
And if you’re independently wealthy with millions of fans? You’d be fucking up quicker than Dr. Drew could say, “Rehab anyone?” On top of that, they’re not ADULTS yet! Their brains are still growing, they haven’t developed any damn common sense. Couple that with social media and you have a shit storm. Remember passing notes in class?
Will you go with me? Yes No Maybe
What if that note you passed could be sent to hundreds of people at once, no matter how embarrassing it was, before you even put your pen down. This is the age of the YOLO Generation. The youth don’t think of the repercussions; therefore, you get ridiculous situations taken out of context by the media, which are then glorified by teenagers and horrifying to adults.
I trip on adults, myself included, who forget their childhood. I spent the better part of eight of my first twenty years on this planet trying to see a boob that wasn’t my mom’s or my sister’s. Now I can see boobs of every nationality, without rising up from my bed or looking over at my wife. Just Google it. That’s what we’re giving our children—all of the authority but none of the responsibility. Yet, we resent it and are outraged when they do exactly what we would have done.
Hypocrites, we are.