Get Off My Lawn!

You young people today... I just don’t get it. Now my son’s an idiot, and his son is already showing signs of being an idiot. My wife somehow feels responsible... if only she cuddled him more or something. I say, bullshit. If anything, it’s my fault for not kicking his ass more when he was a kid. But it’s not all my fault. He sits in front of his computer all day... calls himself some kind of computer expert. Says I should write a blog, that it would keep my mind sharp.

Whenever I see him, it’s “Iphone this, or Facebook that.” Back in my day we didn’t have all that shit to distract us and make us stupid. If I wanted to talk to a friend, I’d ask my parents if I could use the phone, I’d pick up the damn thing and I’d call him.  I didn’t have 5,000 friends, either, like these kids today think they have. I only had three;  Jim Cane, Robert Lawrence (Larry) and that Jewish kid named Seymore. I never got the whole Hanukkah thing, but Seymore used to steal whiskey from his parent’s liquor cabinet and bring it to our clubhouse now and then, so we let him hang out with us. God, he was a pain in the ass. And Larry had a lazy left eye which meant when he slept over, I made him sleep on my left side because I swear that thing would swirl around in it’s socket and try to stare at me even when he was asleep.

And now my grandson is on the same track, talking about his Iphone, and sending texts every 30 seconds while I’m trying to talk to him. What can be so damn important that your retarded friends can’t wait until your 75 year old grandpa is done talking to you? This goddam Internet has made people today all soft, and it’s turning their kids into overweight Maryjanes. Take playing outside for example. When we were little, we risked our lives everyday doing stupid things like throwing rocks at each other, and shooting arrows at each other from opposite ends of our long driveway. “Try not to get hurt,” my mom would say after buying us a new set of arrows, and then she would leave us the hell alone.

And as soon as we were old enough, we took some job working for some smug, college-graduated asshole at 65 cents an hour until we were drafted. It’s just what you did back then. We were miserable, but life wasn’t meant to be a god damn picnic!