Recession Special: The Return of "Games Night"

A close personal "friend" of mine (I don't really have friends... just acquaintances) recently decided to stay in town on the Friday of the May long weekend rather than going to his cottage in Muskoka like a good little WASP. More perplexing, his reason for staying in the city was that he was hosting a "Games Night" as a belated celebration for his 26th birthday.

Question: Has the 20-something crowd been so shaken by the recent economic meltdown that is has fundamentally lost its understanding of its social responsibilities?

How is the WASP crowd going to perpetuate the survival of its species if not through gin and tonic-soaked revelry away from the unawashed masses of the city in the safe haven of Muskoka? Has the credit crisis so altered the perceptions of the WASP elite that it has crushed their grand aspirations of living like a modern day Gatsby, leaving them to instead act like a generation of sexually neutered, internet suicide cult following Japanese teenagers?

Am I overreacting? Should a solitary indiscretion not be taken to signal a fundamental shift in WASP values? Perhaps our WASP in question has aspirations of real estate moguldom and could not step away from the Monopoly board. Perhaps, the contemplated hours trapped on the parking lot known as the 400 were too grim to endure.

I say NO my friends! This is not an overreaction. The WASP mystique centres around stereotypes and, more importantly, the reinforcement of these stererotypes. What stereotype is more central to WASPiness then that of May 2-4 weekend at the cottage.

I am sad to say that times they are a changing. The mid-life crisis has become the plague of the 20-something crowd as preppy kids everywhere question whether they missed the boat on capitalism and need to rethink their extravagant expectations. I say to hell with change and altering expectations. I prefer to live vicariously through myself and plan to be the last one standing at the party until the Socialists drag me out of my dream and pull me kicking and screaming into their equalitarian utopia.

By the way... my "friend's" name is Evan Jellie.