Retro Roots. Modern Obsessions.
We were the chosen ones once, our childhood stories, our heroes, our franchises. But they kept going without us. This is a personal farewell to Ghostbusters, Marvel, wrestling, and all the icons that shaped us… then left us behind for the next generation. And that’s okay.
Another scan, another “unremarkable” verdict. Funny—my organs have survived decades of bad food, worse decisions, and zero applause. That liver’s a legend. That colon’s seen things. Call it average if you want, but in here? It’s heroic.
Gen X was never built for longevity. We were raised on sarcasm, sugar, and survival. Now we’re aging into broken knees, lost insurance, and jumpsuits that don’t quite zip. This isn’t a fitness manifesto. It’s a love letter to the generation that never expected to grow old — and the bodies we’re learning to live in, even as they fall apart.
I bought hemorrhoid cream and somehow got recruited to be a butthole influencer. The instructions literally ask for before-and-after pics, complete with a QR code. I’ve already got the ring light ready.
We lived it all — the mixtapes and breakups, the mortgages and firstborns, the divorces and funeral suits. This is the story of a life lived in seasons — from the reckless spring of our youth to the quiet before winter. A memoir for Gen X hearts still beating under layers of flannel and fatigue.
Gen X is hitting the autumn of life in the middle of a slow-motion collapse. Between job stress, caregiving, AI dread, sexless exhaustion, and the quiet ache of being unseen, we’re still standing—barely. This is a love letter to the generation that never got the spotlight, but never stopped showing up.
Between the reruns, the retro toons, and the endless loop of insurance commercials, I’ve come to a realization: my future isn’t some dystopian sci-fi landscape… it’s Me-TV. Comfort TV, a tight playlist, and weather watching—welcome to Gen X eldercore.
Gen X: raised on VCRs, forgotten by media, fluent in sarcasm. We’re the analog ghosts in a digital machine—and we’re done being the punchline when the Wi-Fi goes down.
When the color drains out of life, what’s left? This reflection on aging, depression, and South Park’s Stan hits where it hurts—and reminds us that sometimes, just surviving is the win.
Genex Geek 