Yeah - my dad was very much into the store bought lawn (still is, really). When I lived at home again in my 20s for a while, I declared a corner of the totally-neglected backyard to be The Compost Pile. Which means I just occasionally threw food and houseplant waste there - nobody else did.
To this day, that corner of yard grows my father's beloved Kentucky bluegrass like it's a weed. I mean literally, it needs a weedwhacker more than a lawnmower, it's that thick. He doesn't water it. He doesn't feed it. He doesn't do sh*t to it but cuss about how fast the grass grows.
Meanwhile, his oh-so-manicured-and-treated front lawn has bare patches and brown spots and is sparse and unhealthy, and gets watered all the time and lots of store bought brews dumped on it.
Did he figure it out and just start dropping compost? Nope.