Bray For Us: Generation Jones as American Eeyores

Our leadership class is depressed. It's no wonder nothing gets done.

Megan Leavitt illustration

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Eeyore: "I was so upset, I forgot to be happy.”

That sounds too familiar. Is Eeyore us?

I think some of us may be holding back American progress because we’re more like the disconsolate Eeyore than his well-adjusted associate, Winnie-the-Pooh.

Tigger isn't even a consideration. 

Winnie-the-Pooh is the modest but happy stuffed bear in the A. A. Milne children’s books who tends to take life as it comes. Pooh seems downright boring, of course, compared to the English author’s resident mad thing, Tigger. And Eeyore is the spectacularly put-upon donkey. 

I think those of us who are Eeyore-like tend to be members of the age cohort known as Generation Jones. Jonesies, those born 1954 - 1965, used to be the tail end of the Baby Boomer cadre but were split off when no one was looking.

The Jones folks often seem to feel they’re a half-step or so behind their just-slightly-older Boomer near-peers and siblings. 

It started early. Teenagers born, for instance, in 1957, seeking summer jobs in 1973, ran up against the wave of unemployment driven by the Oil Crisis. They had a tough time competing against their own older siblings, already established in workplaces.

They continued to feel like they were dining on the scraps left by the Boomers. Late to economical home-buying, late to cheap college tuition.

They missed Jimi Hendrix and the Jefferson Airplane at Woodstock. When their time came along, they got Jim Stafford and Mac Davis.  

Their predecessors got the Days of Rage. They got Disco Demolition.

Cars were still exciting through the early 1970s. But by the time Generation Jones could afford them, they all looked alike.

These are people often feeling that they got screwed by history. They missed the dawn of rock and roll, and for that matter, rhythm and blues. They got punk instead.

The worst part is that they know just how much they missed because it was all documented on TV. Anytime they might forget, YouTube is always there to remind them.

That's one of the reasons they're called Generation Jones. They’re prone to jonesing for the things they didn't get that the Boomers did.

The Boomers got romantic political struggle while Generation Jones got the resultant rules.

So the Boomers experienced the tail end of the civil rights movement. Generation Jones got affirmative action.

The Boomers got Stonewall. Jones got civil unions.

“I thought,” said Piglet earnestly, “that if Eeyore stood at the bottom of the tree, and if Pooh stood on Eeyore’s back, and if I stood on Pooh’s shoulders - ”

“And if Eeyore’s back snapped suddenly, then we could all laugh. Ha Ha! Amusing in a quiet way,” said Eeyore, “but not really helpful.”

Generation Jones Man pictures himself standing at the foot of the American tree, with everybody climbing on his back to get a piece of what seems hard for him to get himself. 

He's ordered to abide by new rules without having enjoyed the libertine period that led to those rules. He saw his older brother drive muscle cars and race hot rods. All he got was gas economy and unleaded fuel.

The Boomers were more like Christopher Robin or Pooh than Eeyore. Maybe even more like Tigger.

But however chronically disappointed Generation Jonesfolk may be, their clout is growing as the Boomers die. They now represent about 30% of the nation's voters, and a similar chunk of its political and corporate leadership. And those leaders tend to have rather dour, Eeyore-like senses of humor.

Jones voters, perhaps unsurprisingly, are said to trend more conservative than any other group. But they sometimes go the other way. It depends on their mood.

Usually, that mood isn't very good.

They give the appearance of living lives without enough real fun. Their idea of a good time may be a vacation in Vegas or Cancun or buying a fancy hybrid. That is, if they're well-enough fixed to afford that stuff.

Generation Jones strives, but doesn’t exactly know why.

So it's not surprising to watch them passing on fixing what's broken, and just trying to protect their turf, like Eeyore worrying over his house of sticks. 

Their kids, and their kids’ kids, don't seem to have good ideas of where their places in society are, either. They often don't even jones after real estate or cars (even before those investments became ridiculously priced). They instead spend their money on things they hope they'll stumble into a little fun with.

Maybe they'll make happier lives for themselves in the Hundred Acre Wood.