Being born in the wrong decade runs in the family.

Neil had a great, great analogy today. We were talking about how people become extremely polarized by something as simple and trivial as musical preferences. He didn't think that it was anything worth arguing about.

"It's like, if we were getting ice cream, and I said to you, 'I don't like vanilla.' You wouldn't be offended because I don't like vanilla ice cream, would you? You just like vanilla and I just like chocolate. There's no explanation for why I like something you might not."

I have often, as has Ariel and perhaps everyone reading this, wished I was born earlier. The world of our generation is -- in my opinion -- not only lousy but pretty boring. Turns out I'm not the only one, even in my family.

My father shrugs, almost mournfully. "I should have been born in the nineteenth century," he jokes. "I would have been normal."

My mother nods her head. Having been an only child for ten years and skipped two grades of school, she has always lived among people who are older than she has. "I should have been born earlier -- a decade, a century."

I'm not sure what they mean. From my perspective, the world of their youth is the ideal. Perhaps it was the same with their parents.

I've been spending more time talking with my parents of late. Maybe I'm avoiding the work that's piling up in the background, or maybe I've just realised how alike we are.

And Ariel: Happy perfect birthday.

REPEAT FROM SECOND POST EVER WRITTEN: I'm not depressed, I'm just pessimistic.