They may bring peace, but they also scream, “I peaked before the internet.”
My dad called last week, breathless with excitement. "I've started collecting commemorative coins from the Franklin Mint!" He waited for my reaction like he'd announced he'd cured cancer. The silence stretched—him expecting congratulations, me searching for enthusiasm that didn't exist.
Boomer hobbies aren't inherently boring. But they've become shorthand for cultural surrender, for opting out of relevance with weird pride. The activities themselves aren't the problem. It's what choosing them announces to the world.
1. Collecting things nobody else values
Dad owns 47 commemorative NASCAR plates displayed in a cabinet worth more than the plates themselves. He explains their "investment potential" to trapped guests who suddenly need to check their phones.
The psychology of collecting involves control and completion. But collecting mass-produced "collectibles" signals something else: you fell for QVC marketing. These aren't investments. They're expensive receipts for watching too much daytime television.
2. Bird watching like it's combat
Dad bought $3,000 binoculars to identify sparrows. He maintains a life list, memorizes migration patterns, and aggressively corrects "seagulls" to "gulls." Last month he drove four hours to maybe glimpse a "vagrant warbler."
The hobby itself is fine—nature, patience, observation. But the gatekeeping, the competitive listing, the equipment arms race? You've weaponized quiet appreciation into another way to be insufferable about knowledge nobody requested.
3. Genealogy as personality
"We're 2% Welsh!" Dad discovered Ancestry.com and now every conversation includes dead relatives we never knew existed. He's invested hundreds of hours building family trees for people who definitely didn't care about theirs.
Genealogy connects us to history, sure. But when your personality becomes "descendant of someone who maybe knew someone interesting," you're using dead people's stories because yours isn't enough.
4. Model trains in basements
The basement is now "The Terminal"—$15,000 of miniature 1950s Omaha. Tiny people wait for tiny trains running schedules more reliable than actual Amtrak. Visitors receive mandatory tours.
Model railroading requires skill, patience, creativity. But grown men playing with basement trains screams "I've retreated into a controllable miniature world." Reality got complicated, so here's a tiny version that obeys.
5. RV life as complete identity
Dad's Facebook photo: him with his Winnebago. He owns "RV Life" shirts, debates black water tanks online, exclusively attends RV conventions.
Mobile living has merits. But when your personality becomes "large vehicle owner," when every story starts "At the RV park," you've joined a rolling suburb that travels everywhere while experiencing nothing.
6. Wine knowledge as weapon
One wine cruise transformed Dad into someone who swirls orange juice. He detects "tobacco notes" in $12 bottles and corrects pronunciation for people who just wanted to drink in peace.
Wine appreciation is fine. But amateur wine expertise is boomer code for "I'm sophisticated now"—except everyone knows you learned everything from one Wine Spectator issue and that 2018 vineyard tour.
7. Golf as class announcement
Dad plays thrice weekly with clubs worth more than my car. He describes holes in detail to non-golfers. "You should take it up," he suggests, like it's wisdom rather than "spend thousands to walk slowly while angry."
Golf isn't just boring—it's economically exclusionary by design. When your hobby requires country club fees and free Wednesday afternoons, you're advertising a very specific privilege.
Final thoughts
Dad read this over my shoulder and laughed. "At least I have hobbies. You scroll TikTok and call it culture." He's not wrong. Maybe the real divide isn't boring versus cool hobbies.
Maybe boomers committed to interests without irony while we've made everything a taste performance. They're genuinely excited about coins and birds. We're genuinely excited about nothing.
Still not joining his RV forum though.
If You Were a Healing Herb, Which Would You Be?
Each herb holds a unique kind of magic — soothing, awakening, grounding, or clarifying.
This 9-question quiz reveals the healing plant that mirrors your energy right now and what it says about your natural rhythm.
✨ Instant results. Deeply insightful.
