Likely Normal

There was a time when a midlife crisis meant a new sports car and questionable hair decisions. For Gen X, that tradition still holds, though, to our credit, we’ve at least learned to buy better cars. I got a Jaguar F-Type. Sleek and loud, with a retractable roof.  It’s fun to drive and great for date nights with my wife.

Meanwhile, Millennials have reinvented the midlife crisis. Forget the throaty roar of a V8. Their crises come sealed in Mylar and stored in temperature-controlled safes. Where my generation buys horsepower, they buy holograms. Their convertible is a Charizard.

While I’m out enjoying the sound of a finely tuned engine, the Millennial is hunched over a display case whispering, “This Base Set booster box has outperformed the S&P 500 for three consecutive years.” They don’t hit the open road, they hit refresh on eBay. Their crisis is quieter, but no less intense: a mix of nostalgia, financial strategy, and the faint scent of protective plastic sleeves.

I’ll admit, it’s hard to argue with the numbers. My car started depreciating the moment it arrived off the truck. Their Pokémon cards, meanwhile, are appreciating faster than some people’s retirement plans. They’re not chasing speed; they’re chasing scarcity, and they’re winning. Their garages may be empty, but their binders are full of six-figure assets and emotionally unresolved childhoods.

The generational difference is stark. Gen X buys something loud enough to drown out self-doubt. Millennials prefer something quiet enough to admire under LED lighting. I rev the engine to remind myself I’m alive. They sleeve a holographic Pikachu to remind themselves they once were.

Of course, there’s a certain logic to both approaches. Mine gets me fresh air, sun, and conversations with my wife about which scenic route has fewer speed traps. Theirs gets them a sense of control in a volatile economy and a legitimate reason to say, “Sorry, I can’t. I’m sorting my portfolio.” One of us burns fuel; the other burns nostalgia. Both, in our own ways, are just trying to feel better about being halfway through the story.

So yes, I bought the Jaguar, and I have no regrets. Millennials can keep their slabs of laminated childhood and their airtight cases of “future value.” I’ll keep my joy loud, my car fast, and my wife at my side on this crazy ride. After all, you can’t take a Charizard out on a Sunday drive.