👉🏻 https://x.com/tgrammie2/status/2011915331460350348
👉🏻 https://nitter.net/tgrammie2/status/2011915331460350348
I’m worn out hearing people moan, “Our grandparents could buy a house on one paycheck, but now we can’t even afford rent on two!”
Yeah, maybe because Grandma wasn’t dropping half her income on $14 iced lattes and avocado toast shaped like art projects. Back then, if they wanted coffee, they boiled it at home in a dented pot. It tasted like burnt rubber and regret — but it woke you up and cleaned your pipes.
And Grandma wasn’t “out to brunch.” You think she had time for mimosas and hashtags? She was making something called whatever’s left in the fridge and feeding six people with it.
Don’t even start with Uber Eats. You think Grandpa was out here paying $38 to have a burger delivered three blocks away? Please. He grilled mystery meat on a rusted barbecue, and everyone called it dinner.
Now people cry about being broke while sitting in a house full of gadgets. Two SUVs in the driveway, six streaming services, three air fryers, and matching tattoos that cost more than their light bill. You think Grandpa had a tattoo? He did. It said “Korea, 1951,” and it came with trauma, not Instagram likes.
And the kids—Lord help us. “We can’t make ends meet, but Brayden needs the new iPhone!” No, he doesn’t. You’re handing an $1100 device to a child who still eats crayons and forgets to flush.
When we were kids, there was one phone. It hung on the wall like a family relic. The cord stretched just far enough for you to whisper secrets before someone yelled, “Get off, I need to make a call!” And guess what? We lived.
The TV? One. In the living room. With three channels and a dial that clicked like a safe. And if Dad wanted to watch bowling, you were a fan of bowling, end of story.
Now there’s a flat screen in every room, the baby’s got an iPad, the dog’s got a camera, and everyone’s wondering why they can’t afford rent. Because you’re living like rock stars on retail salaries, that’s why.
Grandpa wasn’t leasing Teslas or buying $12 smoothies called “Green Zen Awakening.” He drove a truck that coughed smoke, rattled like a storm, and smelled like oil and hard work.
They lived within their means. Whatever Grandpa brought home on Friday — that’s what they had. They weren’t keeping up with the Joneses; they were keeping the lights on.
So yeah, Grandpa bought a house on one salary. But he also didn’t have a gym membership, three delivery apps, and emotional support crystals on his nightstand. His only support system was Grandma, who told him to quit whining and mow the yard.
Nowadays, everyone’s broke, anxious, and “manifesting abundance” while ordering tacos on DoorDash for the fourth time this week.
It’s not the economy — it’s the lifestyle.
Wake up, turn off your subscriptions, make your own coffee, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll smell the truth.
Credit to original author, unknown
Good suggestion if you were that way inclined.
I do own in the suburbs and I am GenX
Now I think buying postage-stamp sized parcels of land in the Burbs and then paying them off for the rest of your life is the epitome of the psi-oped wage slave. Interest that wholesale travels through time and attaches itself to the front of the principal is disgusting and the city/suburbs are a miasma, a carcinogenic malaise of zombified normies and too much proximity to oblivious life forms.
Now I would buy hectares up the country with a valley sporting a rain forest instead of anything society tells me I need.
A sailboat will do fine in the mean time while I rent this joint out and get the fuck out of dodge.
It would have happened already had not my girlfriend thrown a giant spanner into the works due to bad circumstances - her mother passing away, her being executor of the will, settlement on the estate, her grandkids becoming wards of the state and her ending up looking after them etc. I just have to plan for me now. Cogs are turning.