We are Generation X, and we are turning 60.

We are the last ones who knew boredom. Not the performative kind that kids complain about now, waiting five seconds for a TikTok to load.

No, we knew real boredom. The kind that came with summer road trips, sweating against the vinyl seats of a VW Beetle while mom refused to stop. The kind that came from waiting for a TV show to start because there was no streaming, no on-demand, no online binging. You got what you got, and you learned patience.

Or impatience. We had the last rock genre.

We were the last generation raised without the internet. We remember when phones stayed on walls and when nobody could reach you if you didn’t want to be found. If you wanted to know something, you looked it up in a book or asked someone who might know. And if they didn’t, you just lived with the mystery.

We were raised on the idea that knowledge wasn’t instant. You had to work — or wait — for it.

We were not coddled. We were told to be home when the streetlights came on. If we fell off a bike, we got up. If we got in trouble at school, we got in worse trouble at home. Our parents did not negotiate.

We did not have safe spaces or trigger warnings. We had insults, sarcasm, and the knowledge that the world did not care about our feelings. It made us tough. It made us resourceful.

It made us what we are now: the last generation strong enough to handle the disaster left to us by the Boomers, the worst generation to ever lead a country.

Because they led, and they failed. They burned through resources, built a world where everything had a price tag, and then scoffed at the people left holding the bill. They sold out every ideal they ever pretended to have.

Now, as the world teeters on its latest apocalypse—political, financial, environmental—we will do what we have always done: clean up someone else’s mess. We were built to battle America 2025.

We never wanted to lead. We never asked for this. But if the world has to be put back together, better us than anyone else. We don’t need validation. We don’t need likes, follows, or viral fame. We need results.

Oh well, whatever. We will step in, fix what can be fixed, and ask for nothing in return.

Because we are Gen X. And we are turning 60.

(From the archives, and never more necessary):

My father was a career newspaperman and would turn over in his grave at what I am about to say. But he was cremated, has no tombstone and never believed in the afterlife, so fuck it.

I’m cutting news from my brain diet.

Wait, that’s not completely true; I plan to cut at least 95% of my daily news intake. So I guess I’m going to try a lean news diet.

That means no CNN. No MSNBC. NO FOX.

But I plan to go further. No evening news. No local TV news. No 60 Minutes, Datelinesor 20/20s. And, toughest, no late night comedians, who have become the informational standard bearers for liberal news addicts like me.

I had been considering a personal embargo for months, when it became clear that Trump’s ouster and covid’s vaccine were not going to change the tenor of news coverage.

Initially, I could forgive the fret fixation. After all, Trump attempted an insurrection and legally challenged the results of an election. Fairness dictated we tend to worrisome matters.

But then the story morphed into chronicling America’s Bottom Third — the 30 to 40% of U.S. citizens who have turned this era into a Golden Age of Ignorance. QAnoners, Flat Earthers, science deniers and election fraud hucksters became the day’s news narrative. 

Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss.

No. Enough visual junk food. Enough Fear News (it was never fake). I’m done renting worry. 

The gamble here, of course, is the 95% reduction. My loose reasoning is based on what I learned on the cop and film beats: that important news — good and bad — filters naturally to people. Call it the theory of natural infection.

Someone got shot on your block? Your street will literally buzz with gossip. A series of break-ins in your neighborhood? Your next door neighbors are just as worried and probably clustering as threatened primates do. Global warming? A firefighter will tell you when you have to run for higher ground.

It works in the inverse, too. See a great movie? Read a fantastic book? What good is fantasm without someone to tell?

So, in that spirit:

Introducing the Lean News Diet! All the nutrients your brain needs for healthy, informed social interaction — without the bile and bitterness!

The Lean News Diet couldn’t be easier! Just turn off your TV, look only at the day’s headlines, and — Snap! — you’re done! IT’S THAT EASY!

But wait, there’s more! Order the Lean News Diet now, and we’ll double the order! That’s right, call in the next two minutes and you can turn your TV off TWICE!

Let’s see the Lean News Diet in action. These are actual headlines, not actors, unscrubbed from Apple News on the 20th anniversary of 9/11, a news day if ever there was one. See if you can complete the headline or predict the story just from the morsels of information in the Lean News Diet:

“Watch live: Biden marks 20th anniversary of 9/11 in New York, Pennsylvania a…” I’m going to go with “nd D.C.”

“End of eviction moratoriums adds urgency for 3.5 million Americans behind on rent.”Extra! Extra! America urgenter!

“Georgia college faculty, frustrated by lack of COVID…” hmmm, balloons?

“As young talents flee, Afghanistan faces a dying arts…” I’ll guess any word here except “district.” That folded in downtown Kabul during the hedge fund scandal of ‘08.

THE LEAN NEWS DIET! You watch what’s going into your body. Watch what’s going into your brain!

Order now! Operators are standing by — and very worried about it. 
(_{Offer not valid in Mississippi, Alabama, Texas and other American Bottom Third states.)}