Balsamic Dreams : A Short But Self-Important History of the Baby Boomer Generation

Rating:
Summary: funny, but disappointing
Review: Considering how minuscule were the circulations of both Spy and Movieline, the magazines for which he wrote, I would imagine that most folks were first exposed to Joe Queenan, as I was, on Imus in the Morning. He's absolutely hilarious there : his sarcastic style is ideally suited to the format and he's got Imus continually directing him to new topics at which to spew venom. But after reading several of his books--all of which I've liked, but not loved--I'm beginning to wonder if he doesn't need a better editor to bring some form to his very funny observations.

Queenan's latest book, Balsamic Dreams, is intended to be an indictment of the Baby Boomer Generation, of which he is an embarrassed member. He's operating in what Norman Schwarzkopf might call a target rich environment here, and almost inevitably much of what he has to say is very amusing, even laugh-out-loud funny in places. But somehow, it's not as good a book as it should be.

There are a couple of problems. For one thing, he's really written a series of interconnected essays rather than one sustained indictment. This makes for some rather distracting disorganization and some truly annoying repetition. Worse, he periodically himself gets distracted from the task at hand. I thoroughly enjoyed his attacks on the so-called Greatest Generation and on Gen-X, but in these sections of the book he's essentially defending the Boomers, rather than garroting them, which is what we'd prefer.

The other problem isn't so much structural, it's ideological. Queenan's thesis is that the Boomers started out well, but then sold out. He repeatedly gives them credit for "the Freedom Riders. Woodstock, Four Dead in Ohio, driving Nixon from office, Jon Voight in Midnight Cowboy", but then says that after that they became selfish, self-absorbed, and obsessed with their material well being. Which is all well and good, except that : Midnight Cowboy sucked; as he himself says, the Boomers as they exist in our minds are the sons and daughters of the Post-WWII white middle class, and as such weren't a significant part of the Civil Rights movement; Woodstock was the epitome of the generation's irresponsible self-indulgence which was then conflated into some kind of meaningful statement of peace, love, and brotherhood; and both driving Nixon from office and getting gunned down at Kent State were fundamentally related to their desire to avoid service in Vietnam, which, though Queenan largely avoids the topic, is the primary crime they have to answer for. Basically, he's completely wrong about whether his generation was ever worthwhile, and this too seems a function of his natural inclination to defend his own : the Boomers didn't decline over time, they began badly.

Oddly enough, the best moments in the book come when Queenan is making serious points, rather than comic ones. At one point, when discussing the total farce that Boomers have turned funerals into, with songs, multiple insipid eulogies, and readings from inane fare like the Tibetan Book of the Dead, he says that :

Because we Baby Boomers believe in nothing, we end up acting like we believe in everything.

Elsewhere, while visiting a dying friend, Queenan is approached by a woman he doesn't know who clearly wants to hug him, but avoids her :

After an awkward silence, she spoke : 'It's a shame that men have so much trouble showing their emotions,' she whispered. It was classic Baby Boomer feminism. What she meant was : 'You probably have the same feelings that I do, but you can't possibly show them, because that would necessitate revealing your feminine side, which this hideously repressive society prohibits you from doing.' It was also classic Baby Boomer behavior in that it capitalized on an inappropriate, emotionally devastating moment to launch a skirmish in the ongoing gender wars.

'Actually, I have no trouble showing my emotions,' I told her. 'These are my emotions. I'm sad that my friend is dying, and that's why I look so sad. If my friend wasn't dying, I would probably be smiling and look a lot happier. I think a lot of men work this way.'

'Have a nice life,' she replied.

Ditto.

Even here though, when he's truly nailed what's most wrong with the Baby Boomers, he fails to develop these observations into a unified and coherent brief against them, because his objections seem to be mostly stylistic, rather than moral. He seems more concerned with how cheesy the funerals are and how silly the hugging is, than with the underlying causes of these behaviors. But the Baby Boomers aren't evil because they are gauche or tacky or melodramatic; they're evil because they don't believe in anything but themselves and as Queenan says when discussing Bill Clinton's capacity to show empathy without ever actually sharing a feeling, "...they don't actually care what other people do as long as they say the right things...."

There is an essential hollowness at the core of this generation. The fact that they have no beliefs, the way they display emotion without feeling it, the way they tried to turn simple draft avoidance into a great crusade, the way they have warped social standards to indulge their behaviors, ...all of these these things should be piled one on top of another by the prosecution as it makes its case that they are the most destructive generation in history. But Queenan, notorious for his scorched earth style and willingness to take no prisoners, backs off, and the book suffers because of it.

It's too bad, because there's much here that's funny and wickedly observant, and with a stronger editor to keep him on track, the book might have been great. As is, it's fun, but somewhat disappointing.

GRADE : B-

Rating:
Summary: A Humorous Look at Self-Indulgent Me-ism
Review: Review Summary: Balsamic Dreams is both social commentary and satire. As social commentary, I thought the book was a three-star effort due to its primary focus on lifestyle. As satire, I thought the book was well-written, witty, and engrossing. The book is a five-star effort in that perspective. I averaged the two ratings to arrive at the above four-star summary.

Review: The best satires are ones that cause you to see things differently than you did before. Balsamic Dreams is superb from that perspective. As one example, Mr. Queenan takes a look at rating the Baby Boom cohort in terms of its public good deeds as compared to other generations throughout modern history. Whether he's right or wrong in placing the Baby Boom low, it was a perspective that I had never thought about. Another remarkable section was one where Mr. Queenan described how the most extreme and idealistic Baby Boomers would have liked to have recreated history. The results are predictably absurd and well worth reading. Another good section is his description about how Baby Boomers approach funerals.

As social commentary, the book is seriously flawed. Mr. Queenan is picking on a stereotype that is so extremely drawn that the reader will have a hard time connecting it to very many people. I could only think of one person I know who fit the model Mr. Queenan was describing. And, I agree that this person is extraordinarily self-aborbed in creature comforts and trivia. But every generation has probably had such people.

Also, the description of a shift from youthful idealism to self-absorbed me-ism lacks focus. Not everyone was a youthful idealist in the 1960s. Not everyone is less idealistic now than then.

The book curiously avoids looking at the most significant impact of the Baby Boom generation: Its expansion of knowledge. This was the first group in history to benefit from lots of education after high school. What did they do with what they learned? I cannot help but guess that much of the scientific advances of the last 20 years have come, in part, from Baby Boomers. I would be very interested to see what the net social impact has been of this new knowledge. Has it made things better or worse?

In the end, any reviewer has to address Mr. Queenan's main proposition that Baby Boomers are "the most obnoxious people in the history of the human race." Personally, I find few people obnoxious. The quality that does it for me is to be obsessed with something, and to keep rubbing my nose in it. Frankly, racists I met when I was young who went on and on about how terrible this or that minority group was were vastly more obnoxious to me. I just can't get as upset about people who obsess about food, furnishings, fashion, entertainment, and self-realization. They strike me as lightweights, not as obnoxious.

I certainly agree that much of the culture provided by Baby Boomers is superficial and commercial. But popular culture often has that quality.

I do recommend this book to you if you liked BoBos in Paradise. Balsamic Dreams has more funny material, and will give you more new perspectives even though it isn't as good as a social commentary.

After you finish reading this book, I suggest that you honor its thesis by thinking about ways that you can make a greater public contribution. How can your special gifts and resources be employed to do the most good while you have a lot of fun helping?

Rating:
Summary: The author is his book
Review: This book accomplishes one nonsensical objective: to make fun of a group to which the author is a member ... thus, giving him an air of moral authority. Nothing positive has been accomplished with this book, other than to diminish the author, which is fitting. He may have assumed that his persona of being a caustic critic supersedes a sense of responsibility to be forthright and fair. That he chose to write such a book is so revealing. This book makes him out to be his stereotypes: whiny, self-absorbed, and materialistic. We get your message, Joe ... you are your book, but thankfully, you are in a small minority of people who view the world with such an absurd sense of self-righteousness.

Rating:
Summary: To Joe Queenan
Review: After reading some of Joe Queenan's jabs, and feeling some of the Pain, I can only sing:

These boots are made for walking

and that's just what they'll do

One of these days these boots

are gonna walk all over you!

Take that Joe Queenan!

Rating:
Summary: Bitter man sells humor.
Review: Like a bad bottle of balsamic vinegar, our hero Joe is a bitter man. Joe Queenan lives in a world of cliques where a Republican can't be gay and all boomers are self-absorbed 'cept out hero Joe.

The joke is funny for awhile, giving up your $25 sandals for $500 Gucci shoes. And in some instances true. But Joe should go out of his comfy zone of Manhattan and see how other boomers are fairing. There he'd see broken dreams, living in trailers, and making by on minimum wage jobs with no health benefits. Joe, you're just a jerk. Grow up!

Rating:
Summary: A Short but Self-Important Book
Review: Getting into the spirit of things, I am going to write the short but self important review to tell you about "Balsamic Dreams: A Short but Self-Important History of the Baby Boomer Generation." Queenan is perhaps the most intellectual non-political humorist writing today. With "Basalmic Dreams" he turns his sharp wit against what he sees as the many "crimes" of his own generation. And what a ripe target for satire. Queenan is able to skewer Boomer pomposity and hypocrisy with the kind of detail that could only come from someone who has walked among them.

That said, the book starts slowly. Queenan's last book (the hilarious "Red Lobster, White Trash and the Blue Lagoon") saw him actually experiencing things. "Balsalmic Dreams," however, reads more like an essay, and it takes Quenan about half the book to really get warmed up. By the time he comes to the Chapter entitled "What a Fool Believes" and deservedly lambastes Tom Brokaw's silly notion of "The Greatest Generation," the book becomes laugh out loud funny. Queenan goes on to portray an alternative version of American History told as if Boomer values had been held by historical figures. Under this scenerio, Thomas Jefferson is impeached for having an affair with his "nanny" and Abraham Lincoln delivers a touchy-feely Gettysburg Address.

In the end, "Basalmic Dreams" is properly subtitled. It is indeed short at a mere 210 pages and it reeks of self-importance (in a self-effacing way). It is also quite funny, especially in the second half. Hopefully, its readership will also get its message and learn to "mellow out."

Rating:
Summary: Pungent Critique of Baby Boomers
Review: Queenan sarcastically deflates baby boomers, exposing their self-absorbed naval gazing and blind consumerism, but the real value of the book is that underneath his sometimes glib satire is a meaty issue, the sheer emptiness and nihilism of a generation that settles for low expectations and underreaches resulting in a sad and depressing tribe of self-satisfied shoppers whose biggest worry in life is finding the best place to buy balsamic vinegar. For a more serious companion book, you might check out Thomas S. Hibbs' very accessible book Shows About Nothing: Nihilism in Popular Culture from the Exorcist to Seinfeld.

I give Queenan's book four stars only because the book seems to have a good 50 pages of filler.

Rating:
Summary: Boomers De-boomed.
Review: You know those irritatingly pompous, naval-gazing twirps that made up the TV show "thirty-something?" Well, welcome to Joe Queenan's world. I am not sure if these people actually exist they way Quennan describes them, but no matter: he picks apart, slams, bleaches and boils them with the eagerness of a bullfighter. Not much of these vacuous gasbags are left after Queenan is finished. This is a funny book - there are places where I laughed out loud, sometimes twice per page, which is rare for me, a taciturn-type. This is also a short book, but, sadly, a little long for this topic. Despite Queenan's energy and humor, I felt parts of it, particularly the last third, was overdrawn and not necessary, and there were times when he gets so worked up that he seems to advocate violence against particular boomer-types. But most of all, this is a history, and in fact, Queenan has done his homework, comparing all of America's generational periods and ranking them in terms of quality. This would be a good book in a sociology or American history class. You laugh, and, if you were born between 1940 and 1960, you'll cry.

Rating:
Summary: Lowering The Boom On The Boomers
Review: Another fine and funny effort by Mr. Queenan. Lest you think that I enjoyed the book because I wasn't in the "target category," you'd be wrong. Born in 1954, I am a Boomerian. Does Mr. Queenan sometimes exaggerate? Sure he does. But that's his job, folks- he's a humorist! So, let's lighten up out there. Heck, the cover alone is almost worth the purchase price- Queenan with a queasy, "I love everybody," parody-of-the-60's grin- including the obligatory "peace sign." As with all good humor, we laugh because we recognize the truth behind it, whether boulder-sized ( the irony of the hippie generation becoming so incredibly materialistic) or nugget-sized (the "things-were-better-when-I-was-young" syndrome- exemplified by Mr. Queenan's joke concerning boomer-generation music: "Let me tell you something son- I knew Jeff Beck; and Beck is no Jeff Beck"). This book is a yuck-fest from start to finish, including such inspired items as: a multiple choice quiz to test your status as a true Boomer. Sample question- "Match the following Jims with their cause of death: Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Croce.....Airplane Crash, Booze and drugs, Probably just drugs" and a chapter entitled "Ten Days That Rocked The World"- sample date: "December 3, 1967- Ginger Baker sports the first internationally famous male ponytail." Is "Smokin' Joe" sometimes less than perfect? Sure- after all, he misses out on such potential humoristic motherlodes as: the Boomer fascination with "designer (bottled) water"; the abandonment of the 60's-70's "small-is beautiful" philosophy- exemplified best, perhaps, by the switch from buying VW "Beetles" to monster "Hummers" and SUV's; and Boomer failure to admit to any TV viewing unless, of course, it's something on PBS or a foreign "art" film on cable. But, hey, even with what's left out- there's still plenty of laughs, humiliation and embarrassment left for everyone!

Rating:
Summary: Self important and hypocritical
Review: Is there any difference between self-adulating navel gazing and self loathing navel gazing? This is the most hypocritical, overwrought and unfunny thing I've read in a while. A bunch of magazine articles pieced together to form a book. For a much better and funnier critique of a generation's peculiarities try Fran Lebowitz's fashionable slim "Metropolitan Life." Though published in the 70's, it is still hilarious.