He Still Lives in Their Basement, Playing Video Games All Day

A shocking story from my teenage years that still scares me to this day.

One of the weirdest things about people in my generation (and those younger than me) is the apparent epidemic of young people who are “failing to launch.”

This whole concept of young adults living with their parents long past their expiration date is absolutely baffling to me. I don’t know where it comes from, and it totally creeps me out.

Since the time I was 15, I wanted nothing more than to grow up, get a job, move out, and become a husband and father as soon as I possibly could. By the time I got my driver’s license at age 16, I could already taste freedom and was hungry for more.

I first moved away from home when I was 17. I went to work for a Christian ministry in the mountains of Colorado that was like a summer camp: we lived and worked there for a few months at a time.

I started my adult life there; I turned 18 while I was living among friends, far away from my parents.

As my coworkers sang me “Happy Birthday,” I realized how crazy it was that I had become a legal adult and that living on my own forever was now a reality… I just needed to figure out how to make enough money to stay away.

I was ready to make this a permanent change and was committed to figuring out how to do so.

When summer ended, I moved into a cabin across the street with one of my coworkers. We talked about staying there for the rest of the year, but after a week or two, he decided to leave Colorado and move back to his home state, and stay with his parents.

This really hurt me: without having a roommate, I couldn’t afford to live on my own, and so I had to move back in with my parents too. This was a devastating and embarrassing blow.

I had just barely turned 18 and was ready to take on the world. I was almost ready to start college, and I had a job lined up that could almost help me pay the rent. But it turned out the job I was planning on wouldn’t actually work out like I’d hoped, and that, combined with my roommate abandoning me, meant I couldn’t afford the cabin on my own.

I was absolutely galled at my friend’s decision.

He had already graduated from college.

He was already an adult.

He was 26 YEARS OLD.

Yet he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, so he moved back home to live with his parents.

What?

I was angry at him for ruining it for me. I was also embarrassed for him.

What kind of man still lives with his parents at 26 years old? And what kind of 26-year-old man lives with his parents when he already has a college degree?

I was extremely impatient to live on my own, be my own man, and take on the world. I was almost exploding with desire and ambition… so what was up with this guy who was many years my senior, already educated, yet still single, and… unsure of who he was and what he wanted to do?

He was eight years older than me, yet he decided that living on his own was not for him.

What was wrong with him? Why was he so broken? Why didn’t he have the drive to grow up, move out, and start his own family or… do something else at least?

I didn’t know then, and I still don’t know now. But it concerned me back then, and it concerns me a lot more today, seeing a whole generation of people growing up who are in absolutely no rush to do anything with their lives.

When I had to move back in with my parents, it felt like I had nearly flown the coop at age 18. Like the prisoners in “The Great Escape,” I had almost made it, but not quite.

So, quietly cursing, I enrolled in college, got a job, and saved up money so I could try again next year. And the next year, I did.

I moved out at age 18… and never looked back. That’s it. It was just that simple.

I found a place to live with some roommates (two guys this time), and we split the rent three ways. It was awesome. It was exactly what I needed and what I had wanted the year before.

And this time around, it stuck.

I was certain that no matter what happened, there was absolutely, positively no way I was ever going to move back home with my parents. I would have rather become a hitchhiker, living on the streets, busking with my guitar for change, and sleeping under a bridge before I would have done that.

That was 20 years ago. And yet, still, to this day, over and over again, I keep hearing stories of epic failures where young people grow up, finish high school, become adults—sometimes even finish college—and then… do absolutely nothing.

What is going on?!

Of all the stories I’ve heard like this, one stands out to me as the most pitifully sad. I heard about it from one of my roommates in those early days, and I’ve never forgotten it since.

I was telling him about how weird it was that guys our age seemed so unmotivated to do anything with their lives, and he told me a story about one of his friends from his hometown of Fresno, California.

“I know what you mean. I knew this guy back in Fresno,” he told me. “He was actually a few years older than me.”

“He graduated from high school but wasn’t doing anything productive with his life... He just lived in his parents’ basement and played video games all day.”

“After a while, his parents told him he needed to go do something with his life, so he ended up joining the US Navy. He went to boot camp, then became a Sailor, and spent years traveling overseas, living in Japan, and working on an aircraft carrier.”

“His life had become totally different from before: he would have been unrecognizable to anyone who knew him in Fresno. He seemed like a completely different person.”

“So what happened?” I asked him.

“Well, after his four years in the Navy were up, he decided not to renew,” he said.

“Right… and then what?” I asked my friend.

“He came back home to Fresno and moved back in with his parents. He’s right back where he started. Even now, he still lives in their basement, playing video games all day.”

This is one of the saddest stories I’ve ever heard in my life. It’s a cautionary tale, made worse by the fact that it’s not a fairy tale or parable: it’s a true story about a real person. It actually happened.

Whenever I think about this, I shudder.

I don’t want this for me.

I don’t want this for my three sons.

I don’t even want this for the guy who chose it.

I don’t want this for any young men in my generation or any subsequent generation!

I hope this guy eventually found something better in life and moved on. I keep telling myself he did because I need that closure, even if it’s not true. I’d rather pretend it is.

Because the only thing that could possibly be worse than being an adult man playing video games at your parents’ house is being an adult man who started out that way, then joined the Navy and traveled all over the world, then chose to come back and play video games at your parents’ house.