Hard Times

         “Don’t roll your eyes at me, young man!”

         Kevin sighed.  Here it comes.

         “When I was your age, there weren’t no computers and every kid didn’t have his own telephone.”

         Kevin leaned back in his chair. 

         “And even if them things was around then, my daddy would of known better than to let me get my hands on them.”

         Kevin said. “Grandpa, I have to get this homework done. I have to write an essay, see?”

         “What ever happened to pen and ink?”

         “Grandpa, I have to do more work when I get done with this --”

         “You kids today don’t have no idea what work is!  When I was your age, we had garden work and yard work.  There wasn’t no motor on the lawn mower I had to push, neither!”

         Kevin said, “See, Grandpa, this essay has to be handed in tomorrow --”

         “All I can say is you kids wouldn’t stand a chance in my day!  If my generation was anything like this one, we’d all be talking Japanese right now.”

         Kevin sighed.  Once his grandfather got started on this there was no stopping him. 

         “You kids have it too easy.  I don’t know what you’d do if hard times came around.  I had a job when I was your age.”

         “I have a job.”

         “You call that a job?  You feed any pigs, boy?”

         Kevin had to admit, his part time gig at the 7/11 was easier than feeding pigs.

         “You live in easy times, boy.  I grew up in the Depression and then I went to war.”



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         The old man sat in his chair remembering back to that talk with Kevin.  That was the night before those druggies robbed the 7/11.  The night they lost Kevin.