Headline: SPOILED,
WHINY AND KNOW-IT-ALL; THAT'S US, FELLOW BOOMERS
Reporter: By Gregory Freeman
Publication: ST.
LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Last Printed: Thu., May 14, 1998
Section: METRO, Page: B1, Edition: FIVE STAR LIFT
Farewell to `Seinfeld'
Well,
folks, this is it. Either a night you've been awaiting for a while, or a night
that you can't wait to be over.
It's
the night of the final episode of "Seinfeld." After tonight, there
will be no new adventures of Jerry, Elaine, George and Kramer.
It took me a while
to get into this show. It had been on the air for a couple of years before I
started watching it. But once I started, I was hooked.
Maybe
it was because the characters are baby boomers, like me. I suspect that the
biggest fans of "Seinfeld" are boomers. I took a very informal survey
of a few colleagues in the newsroom and found that those of generations that
preceded us boomers and those of generations that followed us didn't seem to
be great fans of the show. The biggest fans, it seemed, were baby boomers.
I
suspect that's because the characters of "Seinfeld" demonstrate the
qualities of we boomers. Let's face it: Like the characters, we're spoiled,
we want everything to go our way, we think that we have all the answers, and
we're whiny.
"Seinfeld"
is us!
Some boomers may
argue with my characterization.
But think about it: When our fathers and grandfathers went off
to war, they didn't moan and groan and question the motives of the nation's
leaders like we did over Vietnam.
Had
we spent as much time in 1941 wondering whether FDR was sending us to war in
an effort to improve his approval ratings, World War II would still be going
on today.
I need look no
further than myself to point out the accuracy of my boomer theory.
Where my father could fix anything that broke, I know how to find
the Yellow Pages. Where my dad had a job pushing heavy boxes down chutes for
the post office, a major part of my living involves typing. Where both my parents
could make a good dinner, I can make great reservations.
I'm
sure the generation that came before ours looks at us as wimps. And were the
"Seinfeld" characters any different? Think about it. Over its nine-year
run, the only thing we ever saw Jerry Seinfeld fix was breakfast.
To
paraphrase the late Walt Kelly, we have met Seinfeld, and he is us.
This "show
about nothing" is, in a way, like us. Ours is sort of a generation about
nothing.
Oh, we thought we were definitely a generation about something
when we were out demonstrating against the war and demanding clean air and speaking
out against injustice.
In the end, though, we didn't change the world that much. Proof
of that is found in the White House, where a generation of people who once protested
against Richard Nixon now finds itself tangled in the same web of special prosecutors
and calling for executive privilege.
Ultimately
we turned inward, much more concerned about ourselves, how much money we could
make and how we could best enjoy it.
And
no one can argue that the "Seinfeld" characters don't think of themselves
first. Who could forget the exhilaration that George felt after his fiancee
died, making him a free man once more?
Most people either
like "Seinfeld" a great deal or they hate it a great deal. Those who
like it love it; those who don't like it often say they don't get it.
That's
what I found Wednesday when I visited the Galleria, asking people how they'd
like the show to end.
Mary
Henze of Clayton thought the show should end with Jerry and Elaine getting married,
George hitting on the woman minister and Kramer passing out fliers during the
wedding on how to buy his coffee table/book.
Juanita
Hart of St. Louis suggested the show should end with Jerry finally getting caught
for stealing a marble rye bread from an old woman and being forced to spend
time in jail. That could be the beginning of a new sequel, "Seinfeld in
Jail, " featuring a whole new (and much tougher) cast of characters.
But
perhaps David Slater of Wildwood had the most intriguing ending for the show:
Jerry wakes up and realizes that the last nine years were just a dream.
Yadda, yadda, yadda.
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