rejuvenile
n.β Β«βThe label βrejuvenile,’…isnβt meant to be entirely celebratory, or for that matter pejorative. Itβs value-neutral.” Rejuveniles are “a new breed of adult, identified by a determination to remain playful, energetic, and flexible in the face of adult responsibilities.”Β» ββThe playβs the thing” Los Angeles Times July 2, 2006. (source: Double-Tongued Dictionary)
Pop quiz: what’s a βrejuvenileβ?
a) The brand name for a facial moisturizer filled with the extract of the kwao krua flower that βworks on a hormonal level to enforce native feminine powerβ
b) a pro cricket team in India
c) a surgical procedure advertised by Thai sex change doctors
d) a briefly considered, ultimately rejected name for people who βwork toward the possibility of human immortality.β
e) a person whose tastes or mindsets are traditionally associated with those younger than themselves.
If you said all of the above, you get a lollipop. βRejuvenileβ says it all.
As the writer who came up with the last definition in a New York Times story three years ago, I’m partial to (e), of course. But since coining what I thought was an entirely new word three years ago while researching my book of the same name, I’ve come across these other, wonderfully esoteric uses. All hail Google.
To wit: Rejuvenile Night Cream is sold via online beauty supply shops. It’s produced by a company called Health Herb Products, Thailand and is said to βmake skin smooth, tender and shiny.β All of which sounds like one of those wonderful malapropisms common in the Far East Γ’β¬β a product of too little ESL and a cheerful stab at English phrasing (a friend recently got back from China where she spotted a sign that read βnaughty family veterinary hospital”).
In that same vein, βrejuvenileβ appears in promotional literature for Thai surgical practices that specialize in sex change procedures. Bancock-based Dr. Chettawut Tulayaphanich will perform βfacial rejuvenile surgeryβ to help our trans-gendered friends lift, tuck and stretch their way to more feminine selves. The same sort of curious attempt at Englishness appears to be at work in the name of the Rejuvenile Cricket Club, a pro team whose contests are covered in the Indian newspaper the Daily Excelsior (sadly, they’re not particularly good).
Then there’s the use of the word by members of the Immortality Institute, an Internet-based organization for those who literally believe they can live forever. I’ve heard tell of a few eccentric, creepily intense folks here in L.A. who’ve gone on starvation diets of nuts and fish oils with the aim of living past 100, but I had no idea that there were people out there who’d gone for the full vampire schtick. In a 2002 forum, members were asked to propose names for βsomeone who has many years, but has a biological age of a 26 year old. We have Γ’β¬Λyoung’ and Γ’β¬Λold’ but not a word to describe a healthy, hearty and exuberant 500 year old.β One member proposed, you guessed it, βrejuvenileβ Γ’β¬β but it quickly was discarded in favor of the phrases βperennials,β βtranshumans,β βlifersβ and βGeneration Eightβ (which naturally stands for Enlightened, Infinite, Galactic, Human, Tireless).
As for my definition, it’s worth repeating that there are many other words to describe the same basic idea, or at least aspects of it. Sociologists talk about βadultescenceβ to describe the years between adolescence and adulthood. βKidultβ is a popular word in Europe for adults with a fondness for kid culture. Time coined βTwixter,β New York Magazine tried βGrupβ and Faith Popcorn proposed βB2Bβ (for back-to-bedroom).
So why βrejuvenileβ? New words can be reflexively annoying Γ’β¬β one blogger made the inevitable comparison between βrejuvenileβ and words like βmetrosexualβ and βbobo,β which he called βendemic marketing speak we love to hate.β But here’s the thing: none of the other words that attempt to describe this phenomenon cover the whole cross-generational scope Γ’β¬β rejuveniles include 10-year-olds who veg out to Teletubbies, teenage punks who sport Care Bear T-shirts, twentysomethings who live at home, CEO’s who champion the power of play in the workplace and card-carrying members of the AARP who go on extreme sport excursions. They all share an impulse to cultivate and protect a childlike (and sometimes childish) part of themselves. It’s an actual phenomenon and it deserves its own real word.
And sorry Γ’β¬β βGrupβ just sounds like a venereal disease.