Against Boomers

Last night a good friend of mine discovered something horrible. His parents are doing the meme. The Boomer meme. They’ve mortgaged his childhood home, or in wiser days what was properly called inheritance.

For what?

After eliminating the possible, he examined the remains, and despite the improbability decided it must be the truth. Or close enough. After my own review of the proof and consideration of his arguments, I have to say the deduction seems quite sound. They sold their children’s inheritance for play. For travel. For fun.

If only it ended there, he and the rest of my Millennial generation would be lucky.

We were born in the early 1980s. His parents bought the property just before his birth, free and clear, for what today would be a pittance. Located in an affluent suburb of Cleveland, Ohio (and by that I mean, yes, white) it had good schools, access to the beach, and a lovely small town charm. Akin to a garden, lovingly cultivated on the shores of Lake Erie.

Like all Baby Boomers it seems, they struck gold. As well they should, in the afterglow of America’s triumph in the global civil wars of the Greatest Generation and before.

In 2025, my friend’s curiosity (for reasons for I will not elaborate on here) led him to Cuyahoga County’s property appraiser website. It has a lot of information available. This includes liens of all kinds. Having some professional home insurance experience, it was easy for me to verify what he was seeing. The first home equity loan was in 1995. He was 13. It’s quite certain it was for home improvement projects. Fair enough, we agreed, as the work turned out very well, enhancing the home considerably. There were several more, but at least we could connect them to tangible value.

When he was grown and far away at school, the mortgages started. Over the decades loan after loan was taken out. $100,000 here, $150,000 there. When the latest is due to be paid, my friend’s father will be nearly 100 years old. Considering family health history, it seems unlikely this man will fulfill his debts in life.

I guess all I can say now is what he told me.

For the first time in my life, I truly know despair.

It’s not about the money. It’s about the behavior which is a window into the soul.

Reader, I declare that now because if the story hits close to home I won’t have you emotionally derail the exploration of the greater truth contained within. For the perpetrators of such things, by your anger you stand accused of the evil you did and the good you failed to do. For those suffering similar despair as my friend, take heart. Not all is lost, though a hard road remains.

For many years my friend repeatedly confided in me a deep unease about his parents. It seems they were just somewhat thoughtless in matters that seemed to demand greater consideration. Take his name, for example. It was given based on aesthetic reasons alone. It sounded nice! This was triply true after his siblings were born, as all their names blend in pleasant cadence.

He was baptized Christian but never attended church. It’s just what a grandparent wanted done, so they did it. There was never any intention to continue. Later on a cult-in-everything-but-name was all too happy to fill in the gap, to my friend’s ruin.

With deep bitterness, his mother constantly disparaged grandchildren. Besides the obvious problem, one can imagine as the years wore on the kind of insecurities it prompted in her children.

His father taught him no valuable life skills, talents, or learning. Preferring the public schools and eventually the internet, the all too common story played out. His children adopted liberal democratic indoctrination with a heaping side of pornography. My friend divorced three times by 40, surprising not even himself.

Like wicked witches cackling over a cauldron, these memories and more haunted his mind. Last night, when he saw his father and mother’s unmistakable signatures on the documents selling his inheritance not for pieces of silver, but mere paper, the witches coalesced into their true form.

Vampires.

And this is where the true crime reveals itself: virtually an entire generation of people seduced into a long con by the mere circumstance of their birth.

What better explains Millennial deracination?

We had houses, schools, friends, and material wealth in abundance. Everything a child could ever need or what. But how many of us had a home? A community. A family. A faith. Considering how many of us in adulthood moved away from home, it’s hard to argue against this point. But this played into the vampire’s hands. If we were home in a proper home we might have caught the thieves.

But that’s the Boomer’s trick. The game was rigged from the start.

Earlier I mentioned my cohort should take heart. That’s because if your life is a mess like my friend’s, the only way out is taking that first step in accepting the reality of your situation. I did not coddle him. I did not console him. There are no gentle messages to be had. No bullshit. You, dear reader, deserve the same antidote.

You must pray.

God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

As far as where one goes from there, as the decades of the 21st century unfurl, we’ll just have to find out. Why did it happen? Why did God allow this? It’s not up to me to answer that for you. It’s up to Him. We don’t chose our times, only what we do with the time that is given us.

Besides, if you want to fight, where else can you meaningfully start and not end up lost again? One can’t battle an enemy they can’t see, especially the one who convinced the world he doesn’t exist.

So take heart. See clearly. In this world there is power older and deeper than evil.

And His tomb is empty.