Handing Over the Wheel to a Generation That Can’t Drive Stick

What are you most worried about for the future?

Look, I’ve always been the kind of guy who handled shit on his own. That’s just how us Gen X folks were wired. We were the “latchkey” generation. We let ourselves in after school, made our own food, figured life out without Google, and didn’t whine about it on TikTok. We’ve been fending for ourselves since we were kids. So depending on someone else? Especially some soft-ass, constantly offended, avocado-toast-eating millennial? That’s a hard pill to swallow.

But here I am—getting older. The knees crack a little more than they used to. The back aches after a long day. I’ve got more gray in the beard and less patience for BS. And the harsh reality is… the day’s gonna come when I have to rely on someone else. And that’s where the panic sets in.

Because if the future is in the hands of the same generation that needs a safe space because someone said the wrong pronoun—well, I’m screwed. These are the same people who think working 20 hours a week is “too much stress” and believe adulting is some great achievement. I’m sorry, but I don’t trust my future to someone who can’t figure out how to pump gas without a YouTube tutorial.

I know, not all millennials are useless. I’ve worked with a few solid ones. But they’re rare. The rest? They can’t take a joke, they cry when you raise your voice, and half of them are one bad day away from quitting life to become a “full-time content creator.” That’s not who I want making decisions about my healthcare or fixing my furnace when I’m 80.

Maybe I’m just bitter. Or maybe I’ve just seen too much dumb shit to feel confident about where things are headed. Either way, I’m not thrilled about handing over the keys to the car, the house, and the country to a generation that thinks emojis are a valid form of communication.

But hey—maybe there’s hope. Maybe the next generation after them will grow up watching all this nonsense and course-correct. Maybe they’ll have a little more grit, a little more common sense. A guy can hope, right?

Until then, I’ll keep doing what I’ve always done—fend for myself and hope I can hold out long enough not to need a millennial to wipe my ass.