Parenting & Family Quote by Lee Majors

Burnout isn’t a scandal here; it’s treated like weather. Lee Majors frames a major life pivot in the most unshowy language possible: “kind of burned out,” “moved to Florida,” “10 or 12 years.” The understatement is the point. Coming from a man whose image was built on hyper-competence and machine-tooled stamina (The Six Million Dollar Man, The Fall Guy), the line quietly punctures the myth that a TV star can run on perpetual adrenaline. He doesn’t dramatize the crash; he normalizes it, which makes it feel more credible and, in a way, more damning of the system that caused it.

Florida functions as cultural shorthand: escape from the industry’s attention economy, a place where reinvention doesn’t have to be branded. The vagueness of the timeline also reads as protective. Not “I vanished” or “I was pushed out,” but “I was down there,” as if distance alone did the healing. It’s a soft-focus way of describing a hard reality: fame is cyclical, and stepping off the ride can look like failure unless you rename it as family.

“Raising children” lands as the moral center of the sentence, almost a corrective. It’s not “finding myself” or “taking time,” but a concrete role that’s culturally legible and difficult to argue with. Subtext: if Hollywood demands constant output, then choosing domestic time is a kind of refusal. In an era when celebrity is expected to be an endless performance, Majors offers an older, rarer flex: disappearing on purpose.