Back When You Had to Work for Your Playboy…
I started replying to a friend about sneaking peeks at Playboy magazines in the recycling container behind the train station. You know, like a normal childhood memory. Somehow that turned into… this.
Because here’s the thing: life was better when you had to work for your smut.
Dad’s hidden stash.
The barber shop coffee table.
A suspiciously wrinkled centerfold found in a recycling trailer like it was contraband from a Cold War spy drop.
That was it. That was the internet.
Now? Kids can see everything. Instantly. In 4K. With algorithms. There’s no mystery, no effort, no story to tell later. Just, “Yeah, I saw that. And that. And that too.” Tragic.
Which brings me to my full transformation into Grumpy Old Man Who Needs to Sit Down.
Yo, Gen Z and Millennials: Shut Up for a Second
I say this with love. Sort of.
Less is more.
Slow down.
Stop declaring that everything sucks.
It doesn’t. It really, really doesn’t.
You are living with a higher standard of living than any generation before you, and it’s not even close.
You have phones with more computing power than the Apollo rockets that put humans on the moon. Meanwhile, I had the World Book Encyclopedia, 1977 edition, and if the volume you needed was missing, congratulations—you’re bullshitting that essay.
We had:
- Three TV networks (and I’m so old I still don’t count Fox)
- Shows that ended when the station literally went off the air at midnight
- Black-and-white TVs
- No computers
- No spellcheck
- No autocomplete
- No grammar checker
- Definitely no AI
If a paper had to be typed, it meant a typewriter. No backspace. No undo. One typo meant either Wite-Out or starting the entire thing over. Took hours. Character building hours.
Food, Travel, and the Audacity
I ate at McDonald’s maybe twice a year. That was a big deal.
Now people DoorDash daily and then complain about it.
My birthday dinner—if I got to choose—was pizza. Except I usually didn’t, because I shared a birthday with my grandmother and my dad decided she wouldn’t want pizza. To this day, we call this experience “getting Timber’d,” named after the restaurant I was forced to attend annually.
I didn’t leave the country on my own until my honeymoon.
Meanwhile, I’m watching people complain about student loans from a hike in Machu Picchu.
Make it make sense.
Also: Progress. Massive, Obvious Progress.
Let’s talk about the stuff that actually matters.
- People don’t drop dead from heart attacks at 55 like they used to
- AIDS is no longer a death sentence
- Early detection for cancer saves lives daily
- Mental health is talked about openly
- Gay rights and civil rights have advanced enormously
- There has literally never been a better time in U.S. history to be a minority (yes, still work to do—but perspective matters)
Medicine alone is a miracle compared to 30–40 years ago. (yes, I know medical costs are up, but thanks to Medicare/Medicaid/Obamacare there are options)
But sure, tell me again how everything is terrible.
Starting Out Is Supposed to Suck
Yes, houses cost more.
Yes, student loans are brutal.
But those are choices, and choices used to come with consequences. Back in my day, that was kind of the deal.
I lived in a tiny apartment next to the L. No AC. Windows open.
It shook every 15 minutes like Elwood’s apartment in The Blues Brothers.
I didn’t complain.
I loved it.
It was independence. It was mine. We didn’t bitch about “adulting” like it was a bad thing. We WANTED to act like adults (paying bills and all)
Now people act like it’s an injustice that they aren’t Vice Presidents on Day One making six figures and doing meaningful work immediately.
You have to do grunt work.
You have to be bad at things.
You have to struggle a little.
Those are necessary conditions for achieving anything.
And Here’s the Irony (I Know)
I fully realize I’m complaining about people complaining.
I see the paradox. I accept it.
But I genuinely think we’d all be better off if we:
- Counted the wins
- Recognized how far we’ve come
- Practiced a little gratitude
- Understood that struggle ≠ oppression
Life doesn’t suck.
In fact, it’s pretty damn good.
Now excuse me while I go turn off a light someone left on and mutter about kids these days.