Too many young people are resenting Boomers, claiming that Boomers had it " easy " financially in their youth. Here are a few fun facts about growing up Boomer.
1. Almost everyone grew up with one bathroom. Mom, Dad and all 3-6 siblings.
2. If you did get to take a vacation, you drove. With no air conditioning. No cup holders. No iPads. Just black vinyl seats and bologna sandwiches.
3. There were no club sports. No Parks and Rec activities. Summer camp was for rich kids. Get yourself a bike, a stick and a few friends. If you were bored, you laid in the grass and looked at clouds.
4. You ate what was served. Even if it was chicken livers. No DoorDash, no backup Totino's rolls.
5. No AP classes, no PSEO, no "fun" elective. They assigned you to a class. You went. You did what they asked. Or else.
6. Unless you had rich parents, you had a nice VFW wedding. Maybe rent a room at a modest hotel.
7. Most Boomers got their first pedi and mani in their 50s (when their feet got farther away). We didn't even know people got massages in real life, only in Hollywood.
8. You packed your own lunch for decades.
9. No one knew what red light therapy was, a facial, a spa day, or a cold plunge. Your gym was the YMCA. Usually in a rather old building.
10. We grew up with 18 percent inflation, 14 percent mortgage rates, 3 million continuing unemployment claims, and 200 other applicants competing for the same job.
Now, this is not to say Millenials and Gen Z have it easy or don't face problems. It's just to say, nobody has it easy or doesn't face problems.
My only hope, as my mom would say, is I live long enough to see my kids' kids complain about how easy they had it!
"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces.
But I see everything.
Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments.
One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?"
"6:15," he said, confused.
"Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it."
He blinked. "You... you can do that?"
"I can now," I said.
Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?"
"Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing."
He cried. Right there in the parking lot.
Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic.
But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!"
"Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel."
He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us."
The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over."
Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it.
But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note,
"Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends"
People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket.
I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece."
So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones.
Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees.
It's not glamorous. But it's everything."
Let this story reach more hearts....
Credit: Mary Nelson
His classmates surprised him with presents after he lost all of his belongings in a house fire..
Before he even approached the gifts,his only desire was for a hug from his friends.
@DrBradJohnson The worst principal that I ever had walked into my room ONE time the entire year. She sat on top of a table for 10 minutes. My eval had mostly average scores, several "needs to improve" and 0 exceptional. I was Teacher of the Year that year and I refused to sign that eval.
@AskCoachKev Is there a video where you demo the push/pull/legs exercises? I suppose I could look up the ones that are unfamiliar…just would like everything in one place.
Congratulations to the Lakeland High School Class of 2025! Your hard work, resilience, and determination have brought you to this incredible milestone. As you step into the next chapter, know that we are proud of you and excited for all that your future holds!
To view and download photos from the Lakeland High School Graduation ceremony, visit: https://t.co/YiVmXri7UR
#SPSCreatesAchievers
@clhubes Please laugh about this. Most of us have been there with our littles. Please don’t worry. I use to have that gig in the drop off line and when the van door slid open we (the staff) really don’t care!