In the '60s I was thinking about retirement. In the '80s I was in my second decade of first retirement and self-employed enough to require filing a Schedule C. At the millenium I was fully retired. 'Fraid all that crap sailed over my head, or under my feet, or something. Never noticed it. Then came the web, and now I'm accosted constantly with angst, anger, restlessness, fretting, worriment and on and on and on.

There was only one non-retard in the The Big Chill, the square guy. The rest of the characters might as well have been zombies in search of brainz.

What was left out of The Big Chill, and what all its breathless admirers (Richard Corliss) missed completely, is that all those exemplars of the Miraculous Sixties Generation were the children of privilege. None of them risked a thing while they were busily congratulating themselves on how courageous they were.

It wasn't that much fun for some of us, even though we did go to college. The specter of a future without a net (parents) was too much with us.

Compare and contrast. CCR then, and today's pajama boys. Our young men today must be growing up on a steady diet of fem pills. Ick.