I Don’t Want to Grow Up!

Celebrated by market researchers and fretted over by social scientists, rejuveniles come in all ages but are mostly a product of the urban upper classes (free time and disposable income being essential in their lifestyle). Evidence of their presence is widespread. According to Nielsen Media research, more adults 18 to 49 watch the Cartoon Network than watch CNN. More than 35 million people have caught up with long-lost school pals on the Web site Classmates.com.

Good freaking jebus h. pogostick. What’s next? Does the Times own stock in some firm that makes this kind of stuff up?

Let’s make up some catchy marketing terms ourselves.

Hm, how about pudgy suburban technophiles – up and comers if there ever was! I think we shall refer to them as bigendians or perhaps rotuneers.

Ah! Multiply divorced marketing professionals sporting leathery artificial tans, stinking desparately of aromatic Calvin Klein unisex personal hygeine products: brass coiners or perhaps counterfitters. Nice Bruno Maglis!

Angry, economically displaced persons domestically and internationally: grumpies. Cheer up! You’re sure to die eventually, and then, none of this will matter!

Apartment dwelling dog-owners: commandogs. Sit, Fido. STOP BARKING! I – I don’t know what’s come over her, usually she just loves children!

Apartment dwelling cat-owners: pussyfeet. Dear, will you tell the upstairs neighbors to make the dog be quiet? It’s – it’s giving me a headache. I – I think I might cry.

Rural admirers of hard-core urban rap music: crystal mesh-backs. Because nothin’ sez lovin’ like four on the floor, a DeKalb cap, and NWA blastin out into the humid midwestern night. Oh, that, a case of Bud, a shotgun, and about a half-pound of crank.