Sir, as a Gen Yer to a member of that unnamed generation between the Lost and the Greatest on the back side and the Silent and the Boomer on the front side, may I ask how it's going for you?

Fan--absolutely--tastic.  You know, having lived 70 years now, I really think that this is the best of times, and it's high time we acknowledged that.  I'm having the time of my life.

Wow, it's hard for me to identify with that.  To me this is the worst of times.  We've got an expanding war in Afghanistan, a never-ending war on terrorism everywhere, I've lost my job, my house is in foreclosure, I hear people scoffing at old-time virtues, my computer's down so I can't have a virtual life, Tiger Woods has taken a leave of absence from the PGA so I can't have a vicarious life, and now I've caught the swine flu that your generation is apparently immune to.  You're singing an upbeat tune, I'm crying the blues.  It's a tale of two ditties.  Life is bitter-sweet at best.

I'd think that all of you Gen Yers would find life Twitter-tweet.  You may be having an off-time, but I have a good time every day.  With all of the Digital Age's technological developments, we're living in fast times.  We can communicate instantly, and that's exciting.

Now just a darn minute, Sir.  You know that can't be true.  You should take that statement back in a New York minute.  You can't be having that much fun.  Just think of all the embarrassing senior moments that you suffer through.  Isn't it true that today you messed up putting your account number on a deposit slip at the bank and had to be corrected by the teller?

Didn't bother me.  I quickly regained my momentum.  My life is full of defining moments and teachable moments and moments of truth.

So you keep up to the minute, do you Old Timer?  Drink lots of Minute Maid Orange Juice?  Eat minute steak with Minute Rice?

Hold on a second, now.  My generation hits the microwave pretty hard, sure, but what generation doesn't?  I, for one, having gone through that whole locavore-slow food thing 35 years ago, am happy to get things done in a nano-second, a pico second, or at least a split-second.  I refuse to think in terms of parsecs.  Begone, snail mail.  Welcome, instant messaging (however, I must say that I do draw the line at instant coffee).  

I can certainly understand your need to hurry, since your life is nearing its eleventh-hour.

Not necessarily.  Sure, my cocktail hour is now 4:30, my dinner hour 5:30, but I fully expect the next chime on the clock to signal the coming of my shining hour, not my midnight hour.

But you'd better watch out for those months with "r" in them.  The world won't always be your oyster, you know.  And especially watch out for April, the cruellest month, as some poet from your parents' generation said.  Mixing memory and desire, indeed.

Oh, I remember those youthful desires, when it seemed that you had to wait at least a month of Sundays for everything you wanted, but the golden years are still full of promise.  Each new year can be a leap year, adding a day of pleasure and accomplishment.  Calendar year, fiscal year, election year--they all can be years of grace.

So you never have an off-year?

Well, not every day is a holiday or a red-letter day.  Some are dog days or dead days.  But day-in, day-out, solar day or lunar day, I still feel like I did in my salad days.  I don't think that, collectively, we're in our last days, and I'm personally not ready to call it a day.  In fact, if I understand modern physics correctly, I'm immortal because, however much time passes, I'll always have a half-life left.

Sir, you do not understand modern physics correctly.  The half-life radioactive decay of atoms has no more to do with your life span than a quantum leap has to do with Planck's constant.  I hate to say it, but you're too old to be playing around with concepts like this.

That's ageism, an age-old form of discrimination.  "Old age is always 15 years older than I am," said Bernard Baruch at 85.  I long ago reached the age of reason and have remained there ever since.  I'm a member of Mensa, I'll have you know, and I still emulate the philosophes of the Age of Reason.

It's high time you quite preaching cogito ergo sum and admitted that time doesn't stand still unless you're going the speed of light.

Okay, I'm not quite that fast, but Simone de Beauvoir was wrong when she said that "old age is life's parody."  Like Solon, "I grow old ever learning many things."

Yeah, sure, tell me about it.  You can't even retrieve the messages left on your cell phone or operate your DVD player.  Since you're quoting Classical sources, I'll add that Seneca said "Old age is an incurable disease."  And a recent survey by Deloitte reveals that one in five persons have used their cellphone to shop during this holiday season--45% to research prices, 32% to find coupons and or read reviews, 25% to make purchases.  You wouldn't even know how to begin doing that, would you?

Uh...no.  But I do know how to be happy.  It's called moving to Arizona, land of sunshine and  fifth cheeriest state in the union, according to a study by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.  Feeling gloomy about life, Gen (W)Y(n)er?  Well, as you smart cell phone users might say, "There's an app for that."

Oh, maybe I'm just tired and cranky.

And there's a nap for that.