I’m 39 now, but I still feel 18 inside. We’re all just kids dealing with things, trying to navigate a world that feels more complicated every day. I miss the old-school way of doing things.

I remember being 19 and not working, just chilling. I went down to my dad’s job to visit him, and his boss was standing outside with a cigar and his old-school Chevy Corvette. There was no HR back then—just a payroll lady who didn't have a say in anything but your paycheck.

The boss just looked at me and asked what I was doing.

I said, «Nothing.»

He said: «Come back tomorrow, I'll put your ass to work.»

That was it. No long talk, no poetic moment. Just a grown man talking straight to a teenager. No one complained, no HR was called, and no one was offended. I showed up, and I worked.

Simpler times.