The company I am interning for has a summer shutdown period for which I am most enjoyedly paid to be off. I am typical to a monday/tuesday day off in my previous roles and so I am not unfamiliar with what feels like a significant transition from weekend (fri/sat/sun) to weekday (the rest). I was driving on a notoriously unpoliced autobahn type of road in my town and found myself blocked on all three lanes by nice cars going below the speed limit. The roadsters and hotrods next to large SUVs, gigantic sparkly trucks, and foreign [European] made sedans. Bewildered I began to look about me and was horrified to find that the ‘nicer’ the vehicle, the older the driver. Each a four wheeled coffin about me. And I was shocked at how the world turns during the week-day to the walking dead. Every store I entered the silver haired walkers moved like zombies, clutching each item, casting dull eyes on meaningless price tags, failing to comprehend simple menus, reacting to each disturbance with first anger and then upturned nose, and the ever present reverent stares at screens baring “the news” whether red or blue hued.

It has been no wonder why “zombie” apocalyptic media has remained popular for at least a decade or two. As well as tales with something like incoming ice-age, last-child-born, book of Eli, ancient lost civilization beats. We actually live in the falling times. The winter of civilization has come, will there be a spring?

The morgues will swell and leave behind parking lots of unaffordable (and useless gas fueled) cars, empty large houses, unkept lawns, an unprecedented over employment of health workers, and a political institution completely vacant of its typical base.

I am 27 years old. I do not own a house, have a wife, or children. My parents were 20 when they got hitched, popped me out, had a home in a family oriented suburb, two cars. Neither with college degrees. Of course it crashed and burned. Thanks be to an imperfect match and a 2007 financial crisis. But still. I do not have a single close friend with a child. In the social soup resulting of social media I am adjacently familiar with the state of those in my age group from school/college/my area and I can only guess that 1 in 8 or so have passed into the family threshold. [Discounting my LDS relations, who are well on track].

–

It is popular to blame the ultra-wealthy. And blame them I do. However, in a country where there are 3 to 1 firearms per person, an expectation of democracy, and some history of driving social change, you can ask the opposing question: Who allowed the ultra-wealthy to become so? Who is still supporting them? The entire financial and political system is more or less built upon the promise to the ageing. No pensions, 401Ks and whatever retirements directly linked into the stock market, the housing market now reliant on the multiple-home owner, the healthcare institutions solely catering to the incoming decay. When, in 20 or so years, the remaining Palpatines finally expire, I do not know what the world will look like.

The politics of my entire life have been around propping up “retirement”. Social security etc etc. What a crock. Is it really social if only a certain generation will be of true benefit?

The limited offspring of the higher class shall reap all when the time comes. Maybe its always been that way. Everyone is just waiting for the old to die, holding their breath. What will remain after?

—

In any case I imagine the speed limit will be exceeded. I think the line at CVS will move much quicker. And I think unless a rapid fertility craze takes hold, the world will be left empty. Unreplaced.

It is common for the old to complain about the disinterest, lack of motivation, of the youth. Why aren’t they following the path so to speak? Why do I spend $20 on lunch but won’t save for a house?

When I look ‘up’ I don’t see a thing I want. Fat, out-of-shape, comfortable, money/status obsessed people. Your house is disgusting, made of plastic and new growth chemical treated “wood” in a neighborhood in which you hate and distrust your neighbor. Your truck is stupid. Your RV is a affront to mankind. I am a tad jealous of your ability to travel, but even that you misuse on a cruise or resort. And god, your diet is horrendous.
In truth, I don’t want to be anything like you. Is that a legacy to be proud of? That you are no role-model. That you exploited. That you left the world worse for your children? That you’ll die in a ‘facility’ rather than at home?

—
I do know some friends with parents or in-laws that didn’t have children so young like my folks. They have larger houses, together marriages, multiple newer nice cars. They still work, are very kind, loved, what have you. And I understand the desire to want your lineage to work for what they have. But there is some kind of disconnect when I look at the level of support they offer their children. Instead of paying for college they have a 2020 or newer car. Instead of providing a down payment for a home for the newly weds, they have an RV.

From my parents I can expect nothing at all. My mom manages her mortgage on a narrow line herself. If my father cosigned for a home I imagine the interest rate would increase. …And yet my grandmother gets a new car every few years, is a weekly casino attender, lives in what I would consider a multi-family home, and goes on two or three several-week vacations per year. Are we family or not? Why is there class distinctions across blood? I understand nothing.

—-

I am sitting at a coffee shop on a Wednesday. Surprisingly only half of the patrons are “greys”. Maybe this is a hip spot. Though, I have been overlistening two one-time hippy women more or less discuss their growing up. I will concede one of their points, I did not grow up in the great depression. They have used the word “scarcity” a few times in reference to their childhood. I admit, despite being a low-income household in a low-income state, as a kid I never knew hunger. I am extraordinarily fortunate. Couldn’t ask dad for a buck, but he’d be there in a minute if I blew a tire.

Money should be the least thing. Yet it is king, despite your Jesus decal.

It’s not too late to save the world. It just might require sacrifice on everyone’s part. I am willing. I do not forgive you for being incapable.