It’s not easy being a kid these days.
I know this because I was a kid not too long ago, and it was no picnic then—but at least we had the ice caps.
What do the kids of today have?
Everywhere you look, things seem to be in decline—fish stocks, food stocks, everything apart from stock stocks, which are doing very well indeed.
But how many kids do you know of with a stock portfolio?
Bad news is inescapable, and the cycle keeps getting shorter. Seems like you can’t even spend sixteen hours staring at your phone these days without having your tsunami live stream interrupted by a breaking earthquake.
No, this is not the world that I want my children to grow up in. So, for the following reasons, I have decided not to have them.
THE ENVIRONMENT
When was the last time you saw a narwhal in the Hudson, or a gazelle cantering down Broadway? Mother Earth is sick, friends. And she’s way less photogenic than she used to be. The thought of having to explain what a waterfall was to my future child is just too sad. Besides, by not having children, I might just buy the glaciers a few extra years. Do you know how many diapers the average baby goes through in a week? Neither do I, but I’m guessing it’s a lot. And, look, it doesn’t have to be all about sacrifices. Yes, on the one hand I am forgoing parenthood to save the environment, but I am also saving a ton of money, which I can spend on a new Jeep, or on air travel.
TRAVELLING WITH A BABY
Speaking of air travel, there’s nothing that babies seem to hate more than flying. And there’s nothing I hate more than sitting next to a baby while it suffers through a flight. If I were to have a baby, I’d almost certainly have to sit next to it.
OVERPOPULATION
The other day, in the park, I saw three people stacked atop a single yoga mat. There’s no two ways about it: the planet is overcrowded. By having a kid, I would only be adding to the problem, and the last thing I want on my conscience is four people stacked atop a single yoga mat.
PRESSURE TO EXCEL
I remember when a baking-soda-and-vinegar volcano could win a science fair. These days, a self-cleaning robot is lucky to place third. Kids are under so much pressure to grow up and impress—one minute they’re learning to dab, and the next they’re addressing the U.N. And each new generation seems to be better than the last. Which is another way of saying: each new generation makes me seem worse. It has to stop! Right now, I’m Thunberg-adjacent. But add a few more generations into the mix and suddenly I’m the old guy in “Gran Torino.”
MY NEEDS
The planet is in a tailspin. There’s smoke coming from the engines and we’re losing altitude fast. It won’t be long before the oxygen masks fall—and we all know you have to fit your own mask before you help others with theirs. Which is why, lately, I’ve been focussing on me. I’ve been playing tennis. I’ve been learning to bake. Some weekends, I kayak. I’ve rediscovered Coltrane and am watching “The Sopranos” for the first time.
Spring is here, with its blooms and blossoms.
And summer is just around the corner, which means weekend trips to the beach.
Then it’ll be fall, and then winter again—in this city, even winter has its charms.
Isn’t life sometimes wonderful?
Don’t you just want to preserve it? Share it?
In my weaker moments I think perhaps I will have a child.
Then I wonder, Do kids even like sourdough?
Could a baby follow “The Sopranos”?
And what are the chances that it would appreciate Coltrane, let alone sleeping in?
No, it’s too much of a risk.
Anyway, I’d better dash—my Jeep is double-parked in a loading zone.
