"Katie Couric hasn’t grown up." I grumbled to the coffee pot, barely able to form complete sentences. It was half past seven as I stumbled out of bed and past my sister on the couch. I grabbed my mug and grudgingly sat down to watch the Today Show with her. We were sentenced to a life without cable TV; nothing good was ever on. Because of this terrible fate, when the remote was in my control, I’d rather watch cartoons on PBS. Arthur was my favorite. Katie’s bunny slippers were hardly news; it was just as exciting as guessing how many germs are on Matt Lauer’s hand.  It was almost the equivalency of watching the same breaking FOX News all day long.

Coming up was a story on the "Boomerang Generation," they were promoting the new movie Failure to Launch and tying it in with the current trend of young adults moving back home. Sadly, I was one of them; I want to know what they have to say, I thought sadistically. It proved to be just short of unbearable.  There were flashbacks of a Salem Witch Trial torture movie I mistakenly watched years ago, in mere moments I was once again flooded with the horrid images of a chair’s seat full of needles, and a fingertip crushing vice.

"Are your children experiencing a Failure to Launch? Within this hour we’ll give you tips on how to get them the hel- heck out of Dodge." Katie snickered from the living room, while I was ready for my second cup. Even though I couldn’t see her, I pictured her smiling smugly, thinking, Tehehe; I almost said a naughty word. Aren’t my bunny slippers the cutest?

Get the hell out of dodge? That was all I needed to hear on the subject to know it was going to be another lopsided whip sting from the media. People like my sister and I portrayed as young, lazy, adults unwilling to lift a finger; making parents do their laundry and clean their rooms.  There had been many others like this; news segments depicting dependants draining mommy and daddy's income. Money is tight in this economically depressed area. Not all of us are rking in the money but still like home cooked meals and our clothes folded for us. There wasn’t a day my sister and I didn’t plot about leaving our parents house. I for one fought like hell to remain in Brooklyn, but it was next to impossible with just a work-study job, a dream, and the Liberal Arts degree I was willing to obtain to stay at art school. It has been over a year since I retreated back home and, and was forced to stare into the void of adulthood. It was little my fault as the road conditions that claimed my second car, as it was totaled, imbedded in the guardrails one slushy afternoon. The bank denied my father’s and my request for a loan. My credit was good but the debt to income ratio was next to unbearable. I was only 22 and already feeling the crushing weight from five different student loans. The only car that was available at the time was one that I’d be paying off for the next five years. With the new car came insurance for I was no longer under my parents’ coverage.  I have always considered my debt to be my own but apologetically obliged for my dad footing the bill for a new catalytic converter and battery or my mom paying my dentist bills when I had to have my wisdom teeth removed.

I turned off the TV when my sister left unable to stomach anymore. I had better things to do with my morning. Get the hell out of Dodge?  Gladly, I thought, getting ready to leave for work as well. I’ll just have the Today Show pay the rent. How many millions Katie’s contract, 16 million a year? She gets paid more than any serious journalist out there. Hell, where in the world hasn’t Matt Lauer been? At least Arthur doesn’t preach commercialism, his little sister D.W. isn’t an industry fink, and none of his friends are easily swayed to the left or right. They teach us about sharing and learning to read. Lying is even taught to be a bad thing. They wouldn’t dream of judging an overlooked generation, unable to leave home while facing a dire economic hardship.