Do you remember the Jetsons, whose super modern world was seen in the 1960s and 1970s as the harbinger of what we would be like in the 2020s? No books, but everyone reads from a computer screen. No old things, just modern furnishings that were built into your house. Robots were there to accomplish all the domestic tasks. It was a utopian world where, in theory, one was free for the nobler pursuits because lifes chores were taken care of. Except, of course, that this would not have been very good television. The Jetsons were the postmodern version of America and a response to both the Flintstones in their prehistoric world and the Honeymooners. The sense over the last decade has been that antiques are anathema to the modern world and in particular to Gen Z and Millennials. Experiences are held highly over material things as to where you spend your money. These new generations were predicted to be the death of collecting. And yet, I dont believe it. As much as paid pundits have pontificated about how grandmothers china needs to be thrown out as valueless and lacking interest, I would argue that the opposite is true. This past Sunday my eldest daughter wanted to go over to South Street in Philadelphia to do some shopping. I tagged along as the bearer of the over-used credit card. The stores that she and hundreds of others her age were going into specialized in vintage fashions from the 1950s onward. And from those vintage fashion stores, we walked to others that sold vinyl records. And from those record shops, we went next to nostalgia shops selling everything from lava lamps to Mexican pottery. Now for the collectors of Chippendale and Old Paris, I hear you. This is not collecting early antiques, but, it is still about collecting. It is the pursuit of a hidden treasure, to find a unique item that you can share with others, or maybe even to purchase an item that has a low carbon footprint (since it is now 100 years old). The death of collecting for 20- to 30-year-olds was not apparent on South Street. It was alive and well and fitted out in balloon pants, Roy Orbison records and waterfall dressers. So I am being a wee bit melodramatic with this column, but I do think its important that we separate out reality from hyperbole. The other week I was in a group shop in Lambertville, N.J., and heard a dealer loudly proclaiming that all young people hate antiques and that they would not know quality if they saw it. They only wanted IKEA and things they could put in a backpack. Not hardly is what I would say to that. They know what they like and can afford, and perhaps that is not what this dealer was saying, but please lets not toss all the young people under the Philistine bus. Remember the song from Bye Bye Birdie? Who could guess the they would turn out that way! Why cant they be like we were, Perfect in every way? Whats the matter with kids? Whats the matter with kids? Whats the matter with kids today? Born to collect should be the motto of Peter Seiberts family. Raised in Central Pennsylvania, Seibert has been collecting and writing about antiques for more than three decades. By day, he is a museum director and has worked in Pennsylvania, Wyoming, Virginia and New Mexico. In addition, he advises and consults with auction houses throughout the Mid-Atlantic region, particularly about American furniture and decorative arts. Seiberts writings include books on photography, American fraternal societies and paintings. He and his family are restoring a 1905 arts and crafts house filled with years worth of antique treasures found in shops, co-ops and at auctions.