Grandma Boomer

ONE - ROBIN

“Are we live?”

“Yep. We’re live. Go for it.”

“Hey y’all, this is YellowPages52, Philly born and raised, coming to you live from KC! It was a long road to get here - me and my pals hitched halfway across the damn country - but we made it! We’re here LIVE to see Jenny Franklin, aka “Grandma Boomer” do something no other human being on earth can do! Seriously y’all, she’s the LAST ONE that can do this! What’s she gonna do, you ask? Keep following me on all the socials, and FIND OUT TONIGHT! Woooo!”

Robin turned toward Jayce and Cal. “How’d that sound?”

“Effing perfect, Robin,” nodded Cal enthusiastically. She could see it in his eyes - his crush, his longing for her, his everpresent hope. She closed her eyes for a moment. Poor Cal. Despite being an amazing guy and great friend, he would always be like a brother to her.

“Yeah, really good,” agreed Jayce, who was much tougher to please. And she had to admit she wanted to. Of course, it was pointless - Jayce came out as asexual last year, and had shown absolutely no interest in dating anyone at all. Such a waste, in her opinion.

As Robin had mentioned, the trio had had quite a journey. They’d first heard about the event a few weeks ago, and BEGGED their parents to let them go. All three received resounding NO’s. Just fifteen, none could drive of course. Jayce claimed to know how to drive anyway - his uncle Ron had allegedly taught him last summer - but not surprisingly no one they knew would lend them a car for the trip. So, they did the only thing they could think of. They hitchhiked.

In America in the late 2060’s, it was definitely a challenge for even one person to hitchhike. People just didn’t trust each other anymore. So imagine how difficult it proved to be for three teenagers. But the trio managed to pull it off. It took five days, a bit more money than expected, and some odd encounters with their fellow man, but they made it to Kansas City.

Robin took in the building. They were situated in an old, mostly abandoned strip mall. She could see the remnants of giant block letters on the side of the building. So it’s true what they said, she thought. This really was taking place inside an old Blockbuster Video. How freaking cool.

She’d read about the ancient retail chain as a child. The idea seemed so foreign to her - who has the time to get in their car and drive to a store just to pick out something to watch. People back then… they seemed so simple. Streaming was just a pipe dream then.

That article she’d read about Blockbuster actually launched her down this path. The path of diving deep into the wonderful world of old technology. Of old and often-extinct pop culture and products. Pure American nostalgia, in all its glory.

Her eyes ventured from the building itself to the crowd outside it. Holy crap there were a ton of people! She’d often thought her and her friends were part of a small facet of superfans of old tech, often tabbed “elder culture”. But there were thousands of people there tonight.

These. These were her people. Robin grinned from ear to ear.

The three friends made their way through the crowd, gawking at all the signs and shirts. People wearing Starter Jackets and Air Jordans. A guy with a discman, and another with an iPod Classic. One woman was handing out newspapers - she must have printed these herself.

Robin could practically taste the excitement. She’d guessed most of these people had also ventured from afar. Everyone here for the same purpose.

Well, most everyone. There was a small group of protesters pacing near the door. They had shirts and signs of their own. She’d heard about this faction - they were anti elder culture. She’d seen some video shorts from their leader on SnapTok, a man named Jacob Jacobs. Jacobs had started a movement called NowTech, and he and his followers spewed hate towards anything created before the 40s.

Why did they even care? It was just fun and games. Just a hobby really. Who gave a crap whether people watched old baseball games from the late 20th century? Major League Baseball had dissolved years ago - if you didn’t want to watch it, no one was making you. Let baseball fans do their thing. Let elder culturalists do their thing. No one was getting hurt.

“Should we do it here?” inquired Cal.

“Nah,” replied Robin. “I don’t want to capture these idiot protesters. Let’s focus on the positive energy, the thousands of true believers. Let’s record over there.”

“Okay… ready when you are.”

Robin took a moment to soak it all in, and then turned toward Jayce’s phone.

“We’re back, everyone! YellowPages52 here, live from Kansas City. It’s just about 8 pm local time, and Jenny Franklin - you may know her as “Grandma Boomer” - they say she’s the very last person on the whole damn planet who can do this. So tonight we’re gonna witness history. In just under an hour, Grandma Boomer is going to do a LIVE DEMONSTRATION of how to operate an old rotary phone! Seriously, what a time to be alive! My friends and I have tickets, and we’ll be streaming the demo live. Follow me on all socials, comment, like, share, you know the drill. Stay tuned!”

“Perfect. Just perfect.” Even Jayce, the constant stoic, was noticeably excited.

TWO - JI-WOO

“Hello sir, my name is Ji-Woo Cabrera and I write for NBC-Reddit. Do you have a moment to answer a few questions for a blog post I’m crafting?”

Ji-Woo, no stranger to elder culture herself, noted that this man looked like the Comic Book Guy from the classic Simpsons TV show. Big, heavy guy, with an untidy beard and greasy ponytail. She kept a couple feet away, as this guy didn’t smell too pleasant. But here he was, wielding a “Bring Back The Penny… and Pluto!” sign and wearing a retro “Friends” t-shirt. His smile was contagious. Perhaps no other person amongst the crowd was more excited to be here tonight. He’d be perfect for an interview.

“Uhh, sure. You know, I think I’ve heard of you. You wrote that piece on the resurgence of travel agents last year, didn’t you?”

Ji-Woo blushed. “Yes, that was me. Can I ask your name?”

“Well, I was born Marc Petrovich. But a while back I legally changed my name to Barack Obama.”

She smiled. She was familiar with the nation’s 44th president, and this guy looked absolutely nothing like the man. But she knew her first instinct would prove to be correct - this man would be absolutely perfect.

“Love it. So, where are you from, Mr. Obama?”

“I took the supertrain all the way from Florida. Binged “Cheers” the whole way.”

“Great show. Did you travel with any friends or family?”

“Oh, just me. But I met up with some pals that I talk to in a zombie AOL chatroom on Dark Web 3000. There have been rumors Ms. Franklin was going to do this, and a few weeks back it was confirmed. So I got my ticket as soon as I could. I was supposed to be working tonight, but…”

“Oh? Where do you work?”

“I work at a freeze-dried food plant in Pensacola. Well, I did. Those jerks REFUSED to give me time off for this… so I quit.”

“You quit? In the middle of what they’re calling the Depression of the Century? Wow. Bold.”

“Worth it. I’m a Jenny superfan. I’ve seen the docuseries about her dozens of times, even the director’s cut. I followed her on socials for years, until she retired from posting. I’m even the treasurer of her fan club. Well, the Florida chapter. Not the national one.”

“She truly is an amazing woman. I agree with that. So, can I ask how much you paid for your ticket?”

“Oof. Ten grand of DisneyCoin. Freaking inflation… and I’m a TicketMaster Premium member too. I heard some people paid fifteen.”

“Yikes. Well, at least you were able to get a ticket. I understand they were hard to come by.”

“Yeah, I’m one of the lucky ones. My friend Kyle, he waited online for days, with no luck at all. Of course, Kyle’s been unemployed since Apple went under a couple years back, so he has the time. Maybe not the money, but the time. He also…”

Ji-Woo sensed Mr. Obama was going to get derailed. She reeled him back in.

“What are your thoughts on the group of protesters here tonight? I believe they refer to themselves as NowTech?”

“Jacob Jacobs is the worst human being since Hannibal Lecter.”

“Well, Lecter was a fictional character. Jacobs is…”

“Terrible. Terrible human being. The man wants to destroy all remnants of elder culture. Anything created by Baby Boomers, Gen X, Gen Z, even Millenials. Millennials! Can you believe it? They’re considered the True Greatest Generation. The man’s pure evil.”

“Why do you suppose he’s against old culture, tech, and pop culture?”

“Oh, it all comes back to money. I mean, look at his track record. Jacobs founded some tech company making smart implants, and sold it off for hundreds of billions. He’s now, what, a VC? Buying and selling companies, getting rid of anything that hasn’t been created in the past 10 years. Money, man, money.”

She wasn’t sure if she followed his logic, or if he even answered her question. She continued.

“Mr. Obama, what do you think of the big picture implications of this demo tonight? This has garnered a large media following - do you see a resurgence in popularity of older tech and culture?”

He considered this for a moment. “Honestly? No. The general population is a bunch of morons. Most people are just too distracted by the latest shiny new thing. They’ll see this footage on their Facebook Glasses screen, and just scroll right past it. Yeah, maybe look at it for a few seconds. But then they’ll move on. The world will move on. But not us. This is something we’ll all be telling our grandchildren about.”

“Do you have any children or grandchildren? If so, how do they feel about this?”

“Children? Uh… no. No. But if I did…”

The conversation came to an abrupt end. The crowd began shrieking with joy, and pushing toward the entrance.

The doors to the old Blockbuster were now open.

THREE - DEVON

“Are you ready, Ms. Franklin?”

“Devon…” she sighed. “As I’ve told you before, please call me Jenny.”

“Yes, ma’am… Jenny.”

Devon had been working for Jenny Franklin for over six months now. Upon reaching forty, he’d decided to make a career change. Gone were his days as a corporate buyer in the residential renewables industry. He considered various roles - AI trainer, climate restoration engineer, ethical technology consultant - but eventually was recommended by a friend to serve as the aide for the elderly woman.

Jenny Franklin had lived an incredible life. Born midway through the 20th century, she’d served as a schoolteacher for decades, influencing countless young minds. Much like Devon, she’d decided on a late-career shift, starting a new life as an accomplished author. She started by writing about history, covering key public figures such as Sir Nicholas Cage and President Thunberg. Eventually she began writing about American culture, and a call to hold onto so many of the incredible products, brands, and technologies that forged the nation of her youth.

Imagine her surprise when her readers began mobilizing, regaling her as a leader and an icon, and adopting her writings as gospel. She didn’t pen the name “elder culture” - and honestly didn’t even like the term at first - but she threw her support behind it.

As the years passed, she made public speeches, and posted hundreds of talks and presentations on her socials. But as she sailed past 100 years, she’d slowed down.

Tonight Jenny would be making her first public appearance in over three years. As one might expect, she was nervous.

A key part of Devon’s job was to help keep her calm. The two ran through her intro. She had it down to a science. Even at her age, the woman was sharp. Devon hoped he’d be half as sharp if he were fortunate enough to reach her age. Of course, more and more people were topping 100 those days. Devon credited the banning of fast food and sodas, to be frank. He hadn’t had a Pepsi since the late 30s. Sure, he missed it… but certainly wouldn’t complain about living longer.

“When I get to the demo… do you think I should smile? Or keep an air of seriousness? Professionalism, if you may. After all, this could be the last time any member of the human race does this. What do you think?”

Devon considered her question. “I think a subtle smile would be okay. Yes, this is a serious moment for humanity, but it’s also a truly positive moment. Something to give mankind hope. A small smile would make for a great photo.”

“Thanks, Devon. You’re always so wise. What would I do without you?”

“Well, you DID manage without me for the majority of your life,” he said with a grin.

Upon taking the job, Devon had a certain degree of fondness for older tech, but he wasn’t a zealot. Now, months later, he was a true believer. He was all in, hook, line, and sinker. He had no higher opinion of anyone else. He was even wearing a “Meet Me at the Food Court” t-shirt underneath his suit that night.

There was a knock on the door, and the two were informed that the stage was ready for them.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. I’m still nervous… but also excited. This will be fun.”

Devon guided her by the arm, and the two exited the dressing room, making their way down the hall into the main room. As they walked onto the stage, the crowd erupted.

He couldn’t believe the size and energy of the crowd. Devon knew she had a strong following, but it never failed to amaze him how passionately these people believed in her.

“I have a confession to make,” he whispered into her ear. “This is my first time in a Blockbuster.”

She smiled. “You should have seen it back when I was a girl. Walls upon walls of videos, anything you could want to watch. It was beautiful.”

At the center of the stage was a small table holding a bronze rotary phone, with a solitary chair. He cursed himself for not arranging a more comfortable chair for his boss. They’d provided just a simple wooden chair, with a thin cushion for her to sit on.

He glanced around, nodding to the two security guards, each standing at opposite ends of the stage. Devon walked Jenny up to the chair, and helped her sit down. He took a few steps to the side, to ensure he wouldn’t be captured in photos and videos. This was her moment, not his.

Until this moment, Devon himself was not nervous. But on that stage, in front of that crowd, under the bright lights, he took in the enormity of all this. He found himself sweating. He removed his glasses and wiped the sweat from his eyes.

The emcee introduced Jenny, and she gave her intro, keeping it short and succinct. The crowd roared again.

“Now… I know what you’re all here for,” she announced, reaching for the rotary phone.

The crowd hushed in anticipation.

But the silence was broken - a young man, wielding a pistol, had emerged from the crowd and was charging the stage.

“Blasphemer! Old technology should be buried and forgotten!” he screeched, raising the pistol.

Devon frantically looked from the gunman towards the guards, who were slow to react, and were too far away from Jenny.

Oh crap. They won’t get here in time.

“You deserve to DIE for your sins against progress! NowTech is the present and the glorious future!”

The gunman, now just feet from the stage, steadied the pistol. The guards slogged toward Jenny. Devon froze.

Until he didn’t.

At the last second, he dove in front of his boss, just as the gun was fired.

Devon was struck. Members of the crowd overcame their initial shock to recover and collectively tackle the gunman.

Devon hit the floor. Pain rocketed through his body. He wasn’t sure where he was hit, but he knew he was. He looked down and saw a pool of blood.

He looked back up and gazed into the eyes of Jenny. Devon knew at that moment he would not see 100.

He could barely hear the room buzzing around him, just dampened noise in his periphery. Someone called for a doctor. Jenny knelt down beside him.

There was too much blood. He wasn’t going to make it.

Devon smiled at Jenny. “You… you’re the last one. You… need to… finish. Dial… dial the phone. For me.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes, offering a comforting smile. It was all she could do.

As Devon drifted away, his eyes made their way to the bronze rotary phone, proudly perched atop the table.

It truly was beautiful.