As a member of the forgotten generation - that gap between the Gen-X slackers and the post-9/11 Millennials - those of us born between 1974 and 1989 - I ask you a favor: support Barack Obama.
This man is the John Kennedy of my generation - the only hope we've ever had. Do this for me - your child - let me stop living in your shadows.
You - booming babys - who stunted my growth with a steady diet of your youth. Down my throat went stories of how you were hippies and war heros and civil rights champions and creators of love and music.
You - lucky you - who held Dr. King, and JFK, and Lennon, and Carl Sagan, and Ginsberg as your own - leaving me with Jesse Jackson, and Clinton, and Madonna, and Bill Gates, and fuck if I know any poets.
You who witnessed, live, a man on the moon - while I witnessed, live, a teacher explode in the stratusphere.
You, who forced your children to grow in a world of television, demographics, and video games - yet dare blame me for my uninvolvement in the real world, when I've never confronted real, never seen or even smelled real. You grew up when history was static in books by experts, and left me to paddle ill-equipped in the historical fluid of wikipedia.
You had art - I have remixes, remakes and mash-ups.
You leave me insurmountable problems. You watched our debt grow from 0 to 9 trillion in your lifetime. You watched the skys blacken and the globe warm - and ask why I'm not doing more to fix it? And I will - but give me the political tools.
You gave me the burden of healthcare for you and my children, leaving me to pay a social security that I will never see - leaving the country bankrupt to pay you your pittance when you retire. Security indeed.
We have no hope. But don't blame yourselves, don't cry, mom. It's not gone - hope is a feeling I've never known.
I grew up knowing the problems you caused rested upon me to fix. I know I will never retire, and my children will be worse off than you, and that technology is our last great hope - and must be built by my hands. Yet you continue to push against my ideals like open-source voting or digital medical records or electric cars.
The truth is your generation drank up all the hope and wonder and left me thirsty for so long I feel born jaded. I have nothing left to believe in but iPhones and American Idol - which are more likely to stick around than the local grocery you complain I don't buy from.
Ramen is ramen, I say.
Dear, parents - you have fought some good battles in your lives. You can stop fighting now - you won. I grew up in a time where all people are equal, thanks. It never occurred to me to make my wife a homemaker, or disregard an employee because he's not caucasian. My battles are not black versus white or young versus old or rich versus poor. My battle is simple: the past versus the future. You must understand: things cannot stay the same.
The sheer size of your generation ensures that all votes bend to your desires. I don't know if I can change your minds in time, so I ask only for a small favor. Trust me - trust your children - if only this once. Vote for Barack Obama - my chance at hope.
Please. Get out of the spotlight. It's my turn to effect change - and I need Obama.