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.
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.
A meditation on South Park’s Member Berries, Gen X nostalgia, and how collecting became my ritual, my refuge—and my way of passing on a disappearing world.
They weren’t born on Krypton or trained by ninjas. They were scrappy, tired, funny, and brilliant—and they saved New York in coveralls. Forty years later, the Ghostbusters still have us suiting up.
Genex Geek 