He Saved the Nintendo 64 for Last: What Happened When a Gen Zer Lived on 1990s Tech for a Week
A Gen Zer swapped his smartphone for a Discman, flip phone and library books for a week, then found modern tech had been crowding out real life.
By the end of the week, the biggest change was not a sudden hatred of technology. It was the realization that meals with friends, reading, and even sitting on a bench in nature felt different when a smartphone was no longer competing for attention. That shift came after Lucky Boy, a Gen Zer, tried living for a week with technology from the 1990s and as little modern digital convenience as possible.
A week with no smartphone safety net
Lucky Boy's rules were simple in theory and awkward in practice. For one week, he gave up the devices and services that shape daily life for a lot of people now. That meant no laptop, no iPad, no smartphone and no Kindle. It also meant no Spotify, no online gaming and no streaming movies.
In their place came a pile of older tools that now look almost decorative compared with the glass screens most people carry everywhere. He used a Tamagotchi, a Sony Discman with CDs, books borrowed from the library, a TV and VCR combo, an iMac computer and a flip phone that was the closest thing he could find to a 1990s-style phone that would still work.
Even then, the week did not unfold exactly as planned. The iMac stopped being useful because it was not working, so writing had to move onto a pad of paper instead. The TV and VCR setup also did not cooperate. Rather than turning the challenge into a neat retro fantasy, those failures stripped it down even further. Some of the old tech stayed in the picture. Some of it simply could not do the job.
One device was kept out of reach on purpose. He saved a Nintendo 64 with a Super Mario game for the end of the week because he already knew what would happen if he brought it out too soon. He thought he would overuse it.

The point was not just to cosplay the 1990s
The experiment was not really about proving that older gadgets are better. It was about testing a feeling that a lot of people, including people who did not even live through the 1990s, seem to recognize now. Modern technology is incredibly convenient, but that convenience has also piled on more noise, more distraction and more layers between people and the world around them.
Lucky Boy said one of his goals was to "live more life." In his view, people in the 1990s experienced more of life in the physical world, while his own days in 2024 often involved spending most of the time looking at a screen. He pointed to the library as an example of something that used to be an experience in itself. Instead of downloading a book instantly or ordering it online, there was the process of going there, moving through the shelves and searching for the exact thing you wanted.
That, for him, was the real test. If every task becomes digital, the real-world version of that task can disappear from everyday life. His week without modern internet habits was an attempt to see what came back when that digital layer was removed, even temporarily.

What got better when the stimulation dropped
The result was not misery. He described it as a pretty good week.
What changed most was the level of stimulation. Without the constant pull of newer devices, smaller experiences became more noticeable. A meal with friends did not have to compete with the urge to look at a phone. Time sitting outside on a bench in nature felt more complete because his attention was not split.
That is a small detail, but it says a lot about why the week landed the way it did. The experiment did not produce some magical new version of life. It changed how much of his attention was available for ordinary things. Reading became a physical act again. Writing moved to paper when the computer failed. Entertainment had limits. Communication came through a flip phone, not an all-purpose device designed to do everything at once.
By the end, the week felt simpler to him. Not easier in every way, because old technology can be inconvenient and, in this case, unreliable. But simpler in the sense that fewer things were clamoring for space in his head. That is where the experiment seems to have hit hardest. He did not come away saying modern devices should disappear. He came away wanting to return to the digital world with more mindfulness, and with the feeling that technology should be something he controls rather than the other way around.

The old console he waited to use, and the bigger pull of analog life
When the Nintendo 64 finally did come out, it confirmed one thing the week had already suggested. Video games are still video games, even when they come from an earlier era. Lucky Boy had a great time with it and enjoyed the chance to revisit a lower-tech style of play from his childhood.
That part of the story matters because it keeps the experiment from sounding anti-fun or anti-entertainment. The point was not to reject pleasure. It was to notice the difference between being entertained and being constantly stimulated. A Discman, CDs, library books and an older game console offered enjoyment too, just with more limits built in.
That may help explain why analog technology keeps finding a younger audience. Record players, Polaroid cameras, AM and FM radios, cassette players and so-called dumb phones have all become appealing again to younger adults, including Millennials and Gen Z. For Gen X and boomer parents, there is something a little funny about watching younger people rediscover tools they once could not wait to replace. Anyone who grew up trying to record a mix tape from the radio knows that older tech was not always charming while it was current.
Still, the impulse behind the revival is easy to understand. Younger people grew up fully inside digital life, and some of them are actively choosing to step back from it. In Lucky Boy's case, one week with a flip phone, paper, library books and a Discman did not end with a grand manifesto. It ended with a quieter conclusion. Life felt more enjoyable when less of it was happening through a screen.