I am going in for surgery.

(Can I first apologise for not having got the Showbag DVD out on time. It’s not just that it’s a mix of PAL videos that have to made NTSC and 720p60 videos that have to be made PAL etc. although that is misery. It’s also that I am ‘coordinating’, which is a euphemism for being a flipper in student pinball. Students come flying down the table bouncing rapidly between the bumpers and then zoom right at the gap between the flippers and you have to keep flicking them back up at the targets. The DVDs will emerge soon.)

In the coming week I am booked in for surgery, it’s a minor procedure and the specialist says that I will only be in the ward one night at most. This is a problem that many people are starting to recognise and secretly have treated – yet people are ashamed to talk about it. If you are of a certain age, you are more than likely to have this problem but you won’t find it mentioned on Oprah or even the medical blogs that crowd the net.

I have always believed in saying what needs to be said. Perhaps if I come out and say it, others won’t feel so ashamed.

I don’t like Daft Punk.

Now this is the kind of problem that people will say they can accept – yet you know deep in your heart a relationship is never going to flower. People at parties – they will act sympathetic until finally one drunk oaf will yell out HEY HE DOESN’T LIKE DAFT PUNK – and then they will all form a circle laughing and pointing. Believe me I’ve lived this life.

I wasted years in therapy where a well meaning but basically stupid counsellor tried to get me to accept that I liked videos made by Gondry (yes that’s true) and he made a clip for Daft Punk (yes but…). I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it still sounded like a squelchy pseudo 70’s tediously camp tuneless dull aaah aaaah get me the bucket please. Now when I see DP have stolen adopted the look of the Gondry video as their entire persona it’s ruined THAT as well.

Thank God I met my new doctor who was able to tell me it’s not my fault – it’s just generational stereotype confusion disorder. You see if you were born after the war up to about 1962, you’re a ‘boomer’. But if you are born 1965 up to 1980 you’re a ‘gen-Xer’. Boomers love Woodstock, The Beatles and healing crystals. Gen-Xers love TV, Nirvana and slack. But what if you are born in between? One moment you’re flower power and the next moment you’re a favourite episode of Gilligan’s Island. You don’t know whether to change the world or invent Facebook. This uncomfortable twilight zone isn’t just about not having a best selling book about ‘your generation’ to buy. When confronted by inputs that are targeted at your Gen-X ‘referential – who cares its just fun’ apparatus, a residual and malformed Boomer organ cuts in and emits a ‘critical – hey that’s been done to death already‘ secretion. This causes a biofeedback that means you end up hating things that are just French costume party music.

One snip and the Boomer goes into the bucket. For an additional fee he can stitch the ‘Millennial’ organ from a goat into the tissue, leaving me with a love of mobile phones and bling. I think it will already be enough to be able to go out and with a clear heart say that I appreciate the shitty music loved by people younger than me.

We truly live in a world of medical wonder.