Based on my age, I’m undoubtedly and firmly and proudly a part of Generation X. That means I grew up listening to Nirvana when Kurt Cobain was still alive, and it means I’m not a millennial. Let me clarify, I am definitely not a millennial. Now, I’m not here to say anything derogatory about millennials. I’m sure they are a great group of people with their hipster mustaches, paper straws, and avocado toast. Every generation that comes after the next is considered by the older generation to be a completely worthless, oxygen wasting, surplus of walking blood sacs. I, by no means, am saying that about millennials. All I am saying is that we are different, very different.
Here is how I know I am not a millennial, and, I’m going to go on the record and say this is a definitive difference about the two generations: I’ve never taken a photo of my penis. Never, ever, ever. There is no format that exists—be it iPhone, digital camera, black and white film, or a random old Polaroid that has an image of my phallus. I never even made a photocopy of it during an office party. There is no social media platform, Tinder, Instagram, or Craig’s List where an image of my genitalia exists. These images don’t exist because I never pulled down my pants and put a camera between my legs to show strangers my naughty bits. Why would I?
The reason I’ve never taken a photo of my wang is because the women of Generation X simply didn’t want to see it. What year did women decide they wanted to look at these things? I didn’t get the memo. In Generation X, the male sexual organ was something we all knew existed, and it was recognized universally as being certainly important for procreation, but there was no reason to put a photo of one on a billboard. And if you won’t put it on a billboard, then there is no reason to text a picture of it to a woman.
The fact that there isn’t a picture of my penis floating around the internet means I’m old. I’m an old man with my old man ideals, old man ethics, and an old man penis. An old man penis nobody has seen in just two dimensions. My penis only does private live shows.
And this makes me old, just like the fact that I don’t like to share all of my private information and GPS locations with social media makes me old. Or the idea that I don’t share my shopping list information with the grocery store by giving my phone number every time I need to buy some Pepto Bismol. I go through this conversation weekly at the checkout counter with any young female cashier:
“Do you have a rewards program account with us?”
“No, I’d rather not provide that information to the store, just for my privacy.”
“Oh … yeah, a lot of people your age think like that.”
My age? I’m not 100 years old yet! I’m just a guy who believes in privacy and not sharing with my auto and medical insurance companies how many six packs of craft beer I purchase a week. I also believe in keeping my privates private.
Suddenly, because I’m not a millennial, I’m just a paranoid delusional old man?
This whole concept of taking photos of your manhood and sending it around the internet completely boggles my mind. What is it for? Are women not convinced that men have these appendages? Has this been a major issue?
I asked my wife, whom I love, “Do you want me to send you a photo of my … you know, my thing?”
“What? No! Why would you ask that?”
“I don’t know. These crazy kids these days are doing it. I wasn’t sure if you were missing out by not having a picture of it.”
“Trust me. I’m not missing out. Please don’t do that. It’s very clear to me where it’s located if for some reason I need it. No photo is necessary.”
“OK, speaking of that subject matter … would you like a live show tonight?”
“No. I’m good.”
Even though there are no Instagram posts of Rob’s penis, he does post lots of racing trophies, which are quite phallic. To read more from Rob Krider or to contact him, go to robkrider.com.
