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David McElroy

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Pop culture creates overgrown kids in adult bodies who won’t grow up

By David McElroy · November 13, 2017

It was late at night when I got the emailed threat about five years ago. A suicidal friend sent me a dramatic picture — an obvious cry for help — with a knife poised against her wrist. She lives hundreds of miles away, so there was little that I could do to help, but I wondered where her husband was.

After I sent a reply trying to talk her into ending the threat — at least for that night — she sent back a sarcastic reply to my attempt to help her deal with this existential crisis.

“It’s not your job,” she wrote. “It’s the man-child’s who’s off playing computer games.”

I knew this was a continuing issue in her marriage. Her husband — about 30 years old — spent pretty much all of his non-work time playing computer games. As a result, they had fallen into living parallel lives. Although he knew she was depressed and suicidal, he chose to live in a fantasy world with gaming buddies instead of in the real world he had chosen for himself.

We’re living in a world where adults are allowed to remain irresponsible children. What’s worse, they’re led to believe this is normal.

I have no idea how accurate this is, but I noticed over the weekend that a 2011 study from a British company called Divorce Online claims 15 percent of recent divorces result from men paying more attention to computer gaming than to their wives. The first thing I thought of when I read that was the formerly suicidal woman who I used to know.

It’s not just men, but the crisis seems especially acute to me among men. Maybe it’s just because I’m particularly conscious about men’s failings in this regard. Either way, I’m certain it’s a crisis — for millions of individuals and for society as a whole.

We’re encouraging adults to remain children. It’s no longer treated as something to be ashamed of. It’s excused and treated like “just a phase” that someone will grow out of.

We talk about “man caves” and accept the idea that a man should go out partying with his friends and leave his wife and children home. Or sit in a basement alone playing video games for hours on end. Or do a dozen other things that say, “I brought a check home from work and that’s where my responsibility ends.”

We glorify immaturity. The heroes of our movies are often lovable but irresponsible men who won’t grow up. The villains and the butts of jokes in the movies are the “square” people who take responsibility for their families and lives. What kind of message does that culture send to young men? It tells them that they don’t have to grow up. And if they’re among those who can make a nice living and get married, that’s the only nod toward maturity that these men ever have to make — so they remain 40-year-old children.

When a man does it, the marriage is inevitably rocky and it forces a woman to build a separate, parallel life. After awhile, she might even come to prefer this dysfunctional pattern, because she doesn’t have to put up with a man who she doesn’t especially like anymore — a man who doesn’t especially like her, either — so she just makes bitter jokes about him and then makes her life all about her “girlfriends.” (And sometimes boyfriends, too.)

Guess what children learn as they grow up watching these patterns? They’re not as blind as you hope they are. They learn that this is what a family looks like. They learn that mom and dad don’t really need to love each other. Mom and dad don’t even have to like each other. They don’t even have to deal with one another. So what pattern do you think these children are going to unconsciously emulate in their own future?

As individuals and as a society, we have to grow up.

That doesn’t mean we have to become boring people like the “squares” in movies. Movies need conflict and they need a character to start out in a terrible place and then magically grow into something mature and loving by the end. It doesn’t work that way in real life.

Adults have to leave childhood behind and start acting like mature adults. We have to treat each other better and in more loving ways, not like selfish and angry 9-year-olds on a playground. Responsible people have to learn to quit trolling each other and trying to hurt each other online from behind the anonymity of a keyboard.

Most of all, adults need to become clear about their values.

Mature people need to realize that marriage and family are a responsibility. If they choose to take on those responsibilities, they owe it to their spouses and children to fill their roles in emotionally responsible ways. And that requires knowing what matters.

If you’re a nihilist — or if you’ve accepted that functional way of thinking — nothing really matters. You can troll people online. You can hurt people for “fun.” You can ignore the needs of people who you claim to love if that feels good to you. You can disappear and leave your family alone for a drunken weekend with your buddies if you want. You can do all those things — because if you value nothing, your actions don’t matter. Just do what feels good.

But if you believe life has meaning — and if you believe you have a responsibility to those you love — that changes everything about your behavior.

You put someone else first.

You treat your spouse and your family with loving care.

You give them your time and attention.

You turn away from immaturity. You turn away from the pop culture version of adulthood.

Let’s grow up — and let’s raise our expectations of those who we allow to be part of our lives. This epidemic of “the man-child” needs to end.

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As part of my effort to rid my life of social media, I will no longer display links to my two Instagram accounts here. Those accounts will be dormant for the time being and will eventually be deleted. I plan to have a method for displaying photos here instead, but the solutions I’ve tested so far have been disappointing. I’m still working on it.

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Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 27, 2026 Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 27, 2026
Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 19, 2026 Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 19, 2026
When I got home at midnight Monday, I was doing so When I got home at midnight Monday, I was doing some work in the studio and Oliver wanted to join me, so I showed him around to acclimate him to the place again. He rarely goes in there, but I have pictures of him in that studio on the night I brought him home as a kitten. 😺
Earlier this week, I found two photos of Lucy and Earlier this week, I found two photos of Lucy and me that I had never seen. I loved finding the pictures, but seeing these photos left me thinking about the effect it has on us when we lose an animal we love — and it was also a reminder of how much my life has changed for the last nine months it’s been since I lost her. I wrote an essay about this. You can find it as the most recent post at davidmcelroy.org right now if you’re interested. I really do miss this sweet girl.
When I take lightning pictures, I’m always hoping When I take lightning pictures, I’m always hoping to get just one usable photo, but I got two dramatic images tonight. You might recognize the water tower and communication tower that you’ve seen in many of my sunset photos. This is about a mile from my house in Leeds, which is just east of Birmingham.
For those who are in places where it’s miserably h For those who are in places where it’s miserably hot today, here is a minute of light rain and gentle thunder from my back yard late Saturday afternoon. It’s very relaxing to stand at my back door and watch this, especially since the heat is pretty mild today — 80 degrees (about 26 celsius) — for July in the American South.
Alex was willing to cooperate with me for a new po Alex was willing to cooperate with me for a new portrait late Wednesday night. It’s been roughly three and a half years now since the cold night when I was able to lure him out from behind a garbage dumpster into a trap — but I don’t think he’s sorry at this point that he fell for the trick. 😺
This is the face of a man who’s thrilled that the This is the face of a man who’s thrilled that the weekend is finally here. It was a very long (and productive) week, but the time has finally come that I have time to write and read and think. Late Friday night, I’m at the McDonald’s near my house with a Diet Dr Pepper and a MacBook. For me, it’s like Cheers without the booze.
Donald Trump has figured out who to blame for the Donald Trump has figured out who to blame for the the D.C. Reflecting Pool turning green. The dastardly deed was carried out by a specially trained squad of Antifa cats trained by the Far Left. It’s not his fault. Arrest all the cats! #satire #parody
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Late Saturday night, Alex and Meg spent a few minu Late Saturday night, Alex and Meg spent a few minutes cautiously eyeing each other from about three or four feet away. This is the closest any of the boys has voluntarily gotten to her and it’s the first time she hasn’t immediately backed off. So this was a major step in the right direction. They stayed like this for about five minutes and then Meg eventually scurried underneath the chair where I was sitting.
It’s hard to believe Meg had been here for only fo It’s hard to believe Meg had been here for only four days, because she constantly wants attention and acts as though she’s always been here. I just got back home and she immediately climbed into my lap and started purring. I think this little girl is happy to be here.
I told a friend last night that Meg had been “maki I told a friend last night that Meg had been “making biscuits,” but she didn’t know the phrase and asked what it meant. So I sent her this picture — before eventually explaining what it really means. 😺
With each passing day, Meg is relaxing more and be With each passing day, Meg is relaxing more and becoming more trusting. Just after midnight Thursday night, she’s relaxing in my arms and purring.
Meg wants to hang out on my chest and purr all eve Meg wants to hang out on my chest and purr all evening. I need to change clothes at some point.
When I got home, I took Meg into the office to bri When I got home, I took Meg into the office to briefly visit the other three cats. Alex had a big hiss for her when she got too close to him. There was a bit of hissing all around, but nothing that I didn’t expect. I’d say we’re right on track for what I’ve gone through many times before.
In the wee hours of the night, Meg is relaxing on In the wee hours of the night, Meg is relaxing on the bed and keeping me company as I write. She’s a beautiful little friend.
I just got back after being out for a couple of ho I just got back after being out for a couple of hours and she welcomed me home with a lot of purring. She’s now taking a bath on the floor at my feet.
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Meet my new girlfriend. Her name is Meg. And she’s my little sweetheart. A couple of months ago, a neighbor across the street told me about a new stray in the neighborhood that she and I were both soon feeding. The cat had been very skittish about contact and she had a lot of scabs and parasites in her fur, but a trip to the vet last week revealed that she was otherwise in good health. The vet estimates her to be 1 to 2 years old. I named her for Meg Murry, the 13-year-old protagonist of Madeleine L’Engle’s wonderful book, “A Wrinkle in Time.” (Please read the book. Don’t watch the horrible movie.) Since we lost Lucy almost a year ago, it seems appropriate that we finally have a new little girl to join the household. She’s already captured my heart, but Alex, Oliver and Sam aren’t there quite yet.

There’s nothing socially acceptable that’s as dangerous as drinking alcohol. Most people grow up being told to “drink responsibly” — and all of us see people abusing this drug in one way or another — but the truth is that drinking alcohol is always a terrible risk. The alcohol in these drinks is toxic and the human liver has to work hard to filter the toxins out. What most people don’t realize is that alcohol is classified as a known carcinogen by the World Health Organization — because of the well-established connection between imbibing and various cancers. Many people have taken refuge behind the idea that light or moderate drinking might be safe, but a new study shows that drinking even one drink a day increases the risks of 10 types of cancer. When I was a teen-ager, I looked around and saw the negative effects that this behavior had on a lot of people and decided not to start drinking, so I’ve never even tried this poison. The evidence keeps piling up that I was lucky to have come to that conclusion early.

It hasn’t happened yet, but there’s a possibility that I might be taking in a fourth feline. A couple of months ago, a cat-loving neighbor asked whether I’d seen a “tuxedo cat” hanging out in the neighborhood. I hadn’t, but this guy eventually wandered past my house a few weeks later — and we haven’t been able to find evidence that he has a home. I’ve been giving him water and food for the last week and he finally let me pet him two nights ago. He’s purred for me two nights in a row and he let me take a low-quality selfie with him Thursday night. Tonight, though, he let me pick him up and bring him inside to look around. This went surprisingly well, as you can see from this photo. I don’t know whether he’ll be joining the family, but I’m certain that Alex, Oliver and Sam would vote no, at least until they get to know him. I’m trying to make certain he doesn’t have a home, but if he does join us, what do you suppose his name will be?

It turns out that the radical far left has been training “Antifa cats” to sabotage anything important to Donald Trump. Everything he did was perfect. Honest. It was all the cats’ fault. Arrest all the cats! This is the latest of my ridiculous satirical shorts. Please go watch it. Then “like” it and subscribe. Please. I’m begging you. (Too much?) Although a couple of the previous videos have had views in the hundreds, most have still been seen by fewer than 20 people. So I seem to be having trouble letting people know that page exists.

Here’s the latest of my ridiculous parody shorts. It crossed my mind Tuesday to wonder what a slick and fast-talking car dealer might do right now to try to turn the high price of gasoline to his advantage. So I conceived of a fat and lovable character who tried to sell cars that don’t use any fuel — and then I started wondering if it would be funnier if all the characters were felines. Designing the King Cashpaw character took about four hours, but the rest took only another four hours, so this was a relatively quick piece that virtually wrote itself. I know it’s almost impossible for these parody videos to find a larger audience, but at least they amuse me — and there are 19 of them on my YouTube page now. The first few were very limited, but they’re getting more complex.

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