Category: The Sitcom Called “Mary Jane”

Yes, Gen X is technically 1965 to 1980, but today I’m speaking for the first-wave crew born 1965 to 1975. The ones who grew up with metal lunchboxes, rotary phones and a deep working relationship with the streetlight. Younger folks have plenty to say about us. Here’s why we don’t care. WDFC.

“You’re so unbothered”

Correct. We were latchkey pros who knew how to jiggle a stuck VCR, make dinner from boxed mac and a can of peas, then keep the house quiet when the phone line was tied up. Unbothered isn’t apathy. It’s triage. If it won’t matter in five days it’s not getting five minutes.

“You’re so nostalgic”

Because everything was an event. Friday nights meant rewinding a Blockbuster tape, Saturday mornings were cartoons and cereal, Sunday night was long-distance calls after 7 to save money. Mix tapes took commitment. Miss the radio intro and you started over. That kind of focus builds character and a healthy side of sarcasm.

“Your fashion was confusing”

We invented flannel with purpose, black eyeliner with attitude and a denim jacket that worked for church, concerts and detention. You brought back mom jeans and called it vintage. You’re welcome.

“You don’t get me.”

We speak results. You say rizz, we hear charm. You say delulu, we hear hopeful with glitter. You say it’s giving, we hear it fits. Our dialect is deadlines, receipts and please reply all only when necessary.

“You’re so Indian Jones”

Proudly. We can fold a paper map, fix a bike chain with a stick and guess a phone number by the sound of the dial returning. If Bluetooth fails hand us the aux. If GPS dies we still get you there because we remember landmarks like billboards, barns and that gas station with the good ice.

Work, Gen X edition

We were told loyalty is a ladder then learned ladders have owners. We show up, deliver and take PTO without writing a novel. We love that you ask for mental health days. We also believe the cure is sometimes logging off at 5, closing the door and eating dinner while it’s still hot.

Parenting, Gen X edition

We ride the line between “don’t touch that” and “be home by dark.” We teach please and thank you, how to order off a menu, how to tip and how to look people in the eye. Our love language is snacks in the car and a charger in every room.

Tech, Gen X edition

We are bilingual. Analog at heart, digital in practice. We can swap a floppy for a flash drive, a Walkman for wireless buds and still keep a printed confirmation because screens are snitches. Back up the back up. That’s not paranoia. That’s experience with a side of candles.

“You’re so cynical”

We’re discerning. We trust but verify, then verify again because Jerry from the cable company taught us hard lessons. We believe in customer service, written policies and the magical power of a well-timed escalation.

Why we do not care

Because we earned it. We survived cold-war drills, divorced parents, MTV when it played music and the internet arriving like a noisy neighbor. We know how to be alone without being lonely, how to enjoy quiet, how to laugh first and panic never. Say what you want about Gen X. We’ll be over here minding our business, paying our bills, raising decent humans and keeping the playlist tight. WDFC.

See you on Journeys With Jani where nostalgia meets working Wi-Fi. Bring your mixtape heart and your grown woman boundaries. The comments are open, the coffee is strong and the sarcasm is seasoned.

XOXO, Jani …born in 1969!