Author’s Note: Last week, I wrote an article about reducing violent gun crime. My esteemed editor, Ivan Foley, said that it was one of my best columns in over 550 that I have submitted to this venerable publication. This week, I am going to write to you about pooping. Life comes at you fast.
There’s been a lot of talk online about Gen Z, Millennials and Baby Boomers. Rightfully so, Gen X has been mostly left out of that conversation. There’s a pretty famous video on TikTok where someone asks why Gen X has been let off the hook and why we aren’t making fun of them like the other generations. The answer is simple. You don’t want to mess with Gen X.
Generation X – the generation born in the late 70’s and early 80’s – were the last generation born without computers shoved into their hands at the age of 2. At the time, we were called “latchkey kids” because our Baby Boomer parents both worked and let us come home after school to an empty house. We were left to fend for ourselves. We made after-school snacks. We were shoved out the door to play until dark. There were no cell phones. There were no GPS tracking of your whereabouts. Hell, our parents didn’t really care where we were and what we were doing as long as they didn’t get a call from the police telling them to come pick us up.
Probably the thing that Gen X should be known for, however, is how we spent our, ahem, bathroom time, without Twitter, or Instagram, or MySpace, or AOL, or TikTok. We had to entertain ourselves while on the crapper.
Occasionally, there would be a copy of Cosmopolitan that your mother left in there. Or an old Reader’s Digest. But, for the most part, you were left to your own devices. Now, if if a Millennial leaves their phone in the other room, it’s 10 minutes of torture. A Gen Z’er might actually have to hold it in until they could find their phone. Crapping and swiping, it seems, go hand in hand.
Gen X’s brains don’t work quite like a normal brain. We had to come up with our own games when we took a bath or had a poop. We had to use our imagination – at least until the phone cord could reach into the upstairs commode.
Try to do that now? It’s pretty dang difficult. But we managed to do it every day. Twice a day if you were my dad.
So let this go as a challenge to all of you out there – you know who you are – who have number two on your minds. Try it without your phone. Bring a paper copy of this Landmark into the John. Get some thinkin’ done. Or, just be alone in the silence. It worked for us.
Your other option is to eat less fiber. Happy pooping! If you need me. . .you know where I’ll be. In the “Library.”
