Confessions of a Gen-X Mind: Culture, Media Literacy, and Personal Growth
Confessions of a Gen-X Mind is a podcast about media, culture, identity, mental health, and personal growth told through the perspective of someone who grew up analog and now lives in the algorithm age.
Hosted by George Ten Eyck, the show blends personal storytelling with cultural commentary to explore how family systems, media narratives, religion, technology, and generational experience shape the way we understand ourselves and the world around us.
Episodes often examine topics like media literacy, inherited roles within families, neurodivergence, boundaries, worldview shifts, and the long process of seeing our lives more clearly as we move into adulthood and midlife.
Rather than offering quick fixes or motivational clichés, Confessions of a Gen-X Mind focuses on awareness, perspective, and integration. It is about recognizing patterns without bitterness, honoring what was good, accepting what never was, and building forward with clarity.
This is a podcast for thoughtful listeners navigating identity, relationships, cultural change, and the strange transition from an analog childhood into a digital world shaped by algorithms.
New episodes explore ongoing themes through personal reflection, media analysis, and generational perspective. The goal is simple: slow down, think clearly, and make sense of a complicated world.
Confessions of a Gen-X Mind: Culture, Media Literacy, and Personal Growth
Bonus Track: Don’t Over-Torque That, Lessons With Dad
Use Left/Right to seek, Home/End to jump to start or end. Hold shift to jump forward or backward.
Today would have been my dad’s 86th birthday.
In this short bonus episode, I share a few memories from our basement on Brookline Street. N-gauge trains. A stool next to the layout. The first piece of gear he trusted me to operate. And the day I ignored his warning and shattered the rear hatch glass on my ’87 Blazer.
My dad believed in encouragement. He warned you when you were heading for disaster. Then he let you learn the lesson.
This one’s about mentorship, responsibility, and the quiet strength of a steady man.
This podcast reflects personal experience, opinion, and information drawn from publicly available court records and historical reporting. It is not intended to assert new allegations or to characterize any individual beyond matters established in public proceedings
Today would have been my dad's eighty-sixth birthday. It's been almost four years since he's been gone and I still find myself taking inventory of what I miss and what made him great. He did all the classic dad things. Playing catch, fixing cars, teaching me basic electrical and mechanical work, passing along hobbies like hi-fi audio and model trains. And yeah, he could cuss like the sailor he was while doing all of it. Usually at an inanimate object. Usually when something didn't fit, wouldn't thread, or refuse to cooperate. The man had range. One of the photos I shared in my Facebook post was of his model train controller. It was attached to a massive train table in our basement on Brookline Street in Berkeley. He took real pride in that layout. Tiny towns, cars, little people, all meticulously painted and placed on the layout. The trains were N gauge, tiny, delicate, not exactly toys for a three-year-old. But that controller was the first piece of gear that my dad ever trusted me with. He brought me into his world a little at a time. Eventually he set me up a stool right next to him and showed me how to run the trains myself. I can still see that basement, the lights over the table, the hum of the transformer. That was how he taught. Gradual trust, real responsibility. And when it came to real responsibility, he let you feel it. I remember replacing the rear glass on my 87 S10 blazer. He was holding one end while I tightened the other. He said, Don't overtork it. I kept turning the wrench anyway. I over torqued it. The glass shattered all over me in a million pieces. There was a split second of silence, then probably some colorful language, and then we cleaned it up and tried again. He warned you, but he didn't rescue you. He let the lesson land. He was a moral anchor, steady, fair, and calm. Well, not exactly calm. Maybe in his later years. Not perfect, human, but steady. He told the people that he loved that he was proud of them. He understood encouragement, and he showed up the same way every day. I didn't realize at the time how spoiled I was. Starting life with a mentor like that set a really high bar. It took me years to understand why that kind of encouragement and quiet integrity felt so rare elsewhere. I carry him with me every day. And how I work, and how I treat people, and how I try to show up. Happy birthday, Dad. We all miss you so much. This is Confessions of a Gen X Mind, just a quick hit. We're gearing up for our next episode, testing out some new gear. This is the EVRE 20. Let me know if you can tell the difference. I sure can. NPR voice is in full effect right now, and I think it sounds awesome. Let me know what you think. Check out all of our episodes on Amazon, Apple, Spotify, or wherever you get podcasts. Also, if you want to dig a little bit deeper, check us out on Substack, confessions of a Gen X Mind.com for all of the essay companions to these episodes. We'll chat with you soon.
