Tikkabik

There's an interesting article in Sunday's New York Times Style section about the trend of adults who share the interests of their kids. Given that I'm as inclined to play video games as Bob is and that Bonnie and Emme both share a profound love Hello Kitty, this is something we're quite cognizant of in our house, even if we didn't put a name on it.

As it turns out, according the article, it's a widespread enough phenomenon that it's something that has attracted the attention of marketing executives and sociologists alike. The Madison Ave. set has coined terms like "rejuveniles" and "kidults" to pithily identify this group of consumers.

Leave it to the tweed-jacket contingent to take the piss out of this trend. One sociology professor from the U.K., Frank Furedi (his name is misspelled in the article), calls this a new wave of infantilism, and said, "Today, the way you demonstrate your worth is the extent to which you still go to rock concerts, you're still groovy, you're still a player."

I think that's Furedi's observation may be colored by his academic focus: From what I could find on the Web, his specialty is examining factors in social anxiety. So of course, Furedi is going to observe this trend from a negative perspective. From where I sit, it's got nothing to do with a need for validation in a youth-oriented culture, and I couldn't care less about being "groovy." I feel no guilt or shame in admitting that I like many of the same things I did when I was eighteen. I feel no guilt or shame in admitting that I dislike many of the things I liked when I was eighteen, too.