It's not the economy, it's the lifestyle

It was a gruesome discovery off a dirt road in Georgia.

Hunters had found a body. Was it immediately clear to you that

this woman had been murdered? Yes.

But who was this mystery woman in the woods? That looks like Mindy.

I'm Erin Moriarty, and from 48 Hours, this is The Woman in the Woods.

I've never wanted to be wrong like this in my whole entire life.

Follow and listen to The Woman in the Woods wherever you get your podcasts.

And it was sent to me by my man, Nicky DeSando. And I think I've got a couple minutes to read it now. And it's just... It goes back to this generational thing. And you start to sound like, get off my lawn, but it's not quite that. But Nikki sent it to me and said, quit your bitching. Grandpa didn't have a $90 a month internet bill, $130 phone bill, seven app subscriptions at $72 a month, an Amazon addiction for $200 a month. He didn't have Netflix, Paramount, or HBO for another $112. He didn't get his haircuts with a stylist. I'm worn out hearing people moan, our grandparents could buy a house on one paycheck, but we can't even afford to rent on two. Yeah, maybe because Grandma wasn't dropping half her income on $14 iced lattes and avocado toast-shaped-like art projects. Back then, if they wanted coffee, they boiled it at home in a dented pot. It tasted like burnt rubber and regret, but it woke you up and cleaned your pipes. And Grandma wasn't out to brunch either. You think she had time for mimosas and hashtags? She was making something called whatever's left in the fridge and feeding six people with it. Don't even start with Uber Eats. You think Grandpa was out there paying 38 bucks to have a burger delivered three blocks away? Please. He grilled mystery meat on a rusted barbecue and everyone called it dinner. Now people cry about being broke while sitting in a house full of gadgets. They've got two SUVs in the driveway, six streaming services, three air fryers, matching tattoos that cost more than their light bill. You think Grandpa had a tattoo? Yeah, he did. It said Korea, 1951. And it came with trauma, not Instagram likes. And the kids, Lord help us. We can't make ends meet, but little Johnny needs the new iPhone. No, he doesn't. You're handing an $1,100 device to a child who still eats crayons and forgets to flush. When we were kids, there was one phone. It hung on the wall like a family relic. The cord stretched just far enough for you to whisper secrets before someone yelled, get off, I need to make a call. And guess what? We lived. The TV won in the living room with three channels and a dial that clicked like a safe. And if dad wanted to watch bowling, you were a fan of bowling. End of story. Now there's a flat screen in every room. The baby's got an iPad. The dog's got a camera. And everyone's wondering why they can't afford rent. Because you're living like rock stars on retail salaries. That's why. Grandpa wasn't leasing Teslas or buying $12 smoothies called Green Zen Awakening. He drove a truck that coughed smoke, rattled like a storm, and smelled like oil and hard work. They lived within what their means. Whatever Grandpa brought home on Friday, that's what they had. They weren't keeping up with the Joneses.