I have held my tongue for far too long.
I cannot continue to sit quietly while young people show a total lack of respect for what made America great.
There is absolutely no way that we could have landed a man on the moon, managed the great western expansion, invented the six pack, or made it through 11th grade Shop Class without pockets.
Lots and lots of totally useful pockets.
Yet, today’s ungrateful young people are vehemently anti-pocket. There is just no other explanation for their sick behaviour.
I watch them aimlessly wandering around the mall, carrying piles of iStuff in one hand. Or even in both hands, with wires running from the iStuff directly into their brains.
Meanwhile, their pockets sit there, down below, lonely and unused.
If these iPeople ever need to do something important, like open a door or draw their weapon and begin randomly firing, as you often need to do at large malls, they would simply be out of luck.
Which is just sad.
iSon is the Worst
Recently my iSon’s car was broken into. One of the items stolen was an ancient iPod. It was so old that it was actually big enough to hold. And it only played music, if you can believe that.
So with the insurance settlement, my son had three main iReplacement options:
a. use the money toward an iPhone which could: be a phone, be an iPod, be a TV, perform laser eye surgery, make espresso and taser people… All up, it would have cost him an extra $500
b. get the new IPod model which, to me, looks exactly like an iPhone but is not. The iThing can play music and show videos and link to the internet using wifi or tattoos or something. It would cost him an extra $50
c. get a “straight replacement” iPod which, because of technological advances, comes with four times as much memory for the same cost and is about the size of a stamp.
After countless visits to talk to iSalesmen, my iSon decided to keep his crappy, old, Nokia phone and spend $50 for the iPod that looks like an i-Phone, but isn’t, yet can do many cool things.
And here is the part that kills me.
So he now carries the new iPod, his crappy old cell phone, his keys and his wallet. He carries them. In his hands. Despite having no fewer than 65 pockets on his pants.
Worse, when he sits down, he piles them casually onto the table, or a chair, or his knee. It matters not whether he is in a restaurant or in the middle of Mardis Gras.
He just piles them up. And then looks away. Or even WALKS AWAY, leaving hundreds of dollars of technology right there for the taking.
Gen Y is is oblivious and unconcerned.
So who do you think ends up worrying about it?
iDad, that’s who!
Like last week, when we went to a jazz club that is about the size of my living room. By some miracle, we were able to grab stools at the bar before approximately 900,000 stormed in.
At this point my iSon turns his back to the bar, where his iToys are piled, and begins to listen to the band, look at girls and search for musicians he gigs with.
iSon is not bothered a whit, not one whit, that many of the 900,000 people are pushing up to the bar and, in some cases, actually smooshing between him and his pile of iToys.
Of course this means that iDad, Mr. Paranoid, has to be the Point Man. The Responsible One. The Doberman ready to pounce and protect junior’s iStuff.
Which makes a relaxing night out listening to jazz, not actually that relaxing.
Note to Gen Y:
Use your damn iPockets or we Baby Boomers are going to kill you.
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