Today's kids have way too much...

Today's kids have way too much of...EVERYTHING!

As I was writing earlier about teens and text messaging I was thinking about how, in general, kids are handed everything on a silver platter.

The platters around our house look more like Dixie paper plates. The recipients are good kids who are thankful for the feast.

What IS on those plates? A heaping helping life lessons consisting of: how to manage money, how to bargain shop, how to get along with others and how to be grateful and appreciative.

Just as I was formulating all of this in my mind I came across this article by Tom Purcell talking about college kids having way too much and I could relate to the college experience he had.

September 14, 2007

Boy, are college kids living like kings. I feel bad for them. According to The Associated Press, many universities are tearing down traditional dormitories in favor of upscale living quarters — posh facilities that offer private suites, granite countertops, designer furniture and satellite TV.

Today's college kids don't have to worry about much. Maid and laundry services are now available. Heck, kids don't even have to pack up the station wagon when moving in. Moving companies do that for them.

Why are universities pampering these kids? They have to to attract students.

More than 90 percent of today's students had their own bedroom. They aren't used to sharing. They aren't used to working hard to attain things, either. Their dual-income parents gave them every nicety our prosperous civilization offers.

My college experience was certainly different.

To come up with my Penn State tuition, my father worked overtime, while I labored as a stone mason. Even with college loans, I had just enough money to buy what I needed (a college education) but never enough to buy what I wanted (nice clothes, a car, even a Friday-night pizza).

I worked some unpleasant jobs in college: dishwasher, janitor, handyman, grass cutter. I worked as a bouncer, too, which involved kicking drunk people out of bars and mopping up that which some patrons couldn't keep down.

I sold my plasma. During the first semester of my junior year, I went to a medical clinic twice a week. They sucked out my blood, spun off the plasma, then gave me my blood back. Not only did I make $10 bucks every time I went, I noticed that one beer had the effect of three — that translated into great savings at the pub.

Of course, selling my plasma nearly killed me. When my mother discovered how I'd gotten so pale and gaunt, my father had to keep her from strangling me.

To save money my senior year, I managed a rooming house. It was a big old dump of a place. It was allegedly haunted, too. A high school fellow who lived there shot himself in 1932 — in the same room I lived in. I never saw the ghost, though.

That job involved shoveling coal to keep the furnace going, picking up knocked-over garbage cans to keep the rats and raccoons away, and settling disputes with some very colorful tenants who were always squabbling about something.

My parents visited me there once and when they saw my room, the centerpiece of which was a lumpy bed sitting on cinder blocks, and the bathroom I shared with 14 others (don't ask), my mother grew as pale as I was after selling my plasma twice a week for three months.

Yet I was WAY better off than today's college kids. It was by NOT living in the lap of luxury that I enjoyed many memorable experiences — experiences that helped me develop.

Because I was broke, I was forced to work odd jobs. I worked with interesting people from all economic levels. I gained valuable insight into their lives and their struggles.

Because I lived in a dump, I was forced to share a bathroom and kitchen with total strangers. I went on to become good friends with some of these people. I learned how to interact, socialize and get along — skills that have been helpful in the business world and in life.

I graduated from Penn State eager and hungry to succeed. I found a job as a writer and was able to buy my first brand-new car, a 1984 Pontiac Sunbird. There is no satisfaction greater than that.

Many of today's college kids won't enjoy any of these experiences. Too many, thanks to parents who lavished them with all kinds of things they didn't need, will remain spoiled, self-centered and full of self-importance.

When they finally go out into the real world, they won't be happy to find what reality has waiting for them. Like I said, I feel bad for them — I feel bad their college experience won't be one-tenth as valuable as mine.


I might not have been quite as desperate, but I did do everything from waiting tables (both restaurant and cocktail) and babysitting to writing press releases and working at the country club. My husband worked at a grocery store all four years of college and supplemented that with furniture delivery. We both enjoyed our experiences, even if it could be tiring, and neither of us would change it for anything.

Our children have worked from the time that they've been old enough to do so. You can see that sense of pride on their faces when they are able to purchase something that they've saved up for.

My family was upper-middle class when I was growing up. When I got to the age where kids started to pressure their parents for nice clothes, cars etc. I remember my dad telling me "Even if I could give you the moon, I wouldn't. Not because I don't love you, but because you need to learn how to get these things on your own."

I've known plenty of kids who have never had to drive a used car, or have been given credit cards with carte blanche privileges. They might get a little slap on the wrist when the bill gets out of hand, but the chastisement seems to come with a nod and a wink.

What is there to look forward to when you've already had it all?