It’s my birthday, too – 60th – which makes me the first of the cohort of Boomers who the media claims will bring even more wrack and ruin to our heirs and assigns.
In observance of this, I’ve started reading The Greater Generation by Leonard Steinhorn, an “it’s about time” defense.
Written after the 2004 Presidential election, the book does a good job of putting the Rumsfeld/Cheney “legacy” into perspective as a throwback to 50’s-era values and priorities, in reaction to what the author believes are generally more progressive trends in American society as a whole.
The argument goes that the WWII generation – those still living, that is – are still bitter and angry about the social changes of the 60’s, starting with feminism and ending with Civil Rights. Because they vote in greater numbers, they put “their little man” into office in 2000 and 2004.
Living on Seizure World, where 25% of the population is over 65, I see these attitudes in every public institution on Cape Cod, including the schools.
For example, in spite of what some people want to believe, the serious “players” here are all older white men. That’s why most Chambers of Commerce are obsessed with tourism – not that tourism is the only viable industry for Cape Cod, but because “the players” are personally invested in it.
Over the last two weekends, I’ve attended public events like concerts and a lecture on gardening. At every event, probably 80% of the audience were older people.
This isn’t necessarily reflected at Town Meetings, and it’s certainly not the case at Little League games or soccer practices. Still, the kind of off-kilter visibility that the WWII generation has at cultural events on Cape Cod concerns me. It’s a proxy, if you will, for commitment to the type of activity that well-educated younger families would be expected to support.
On the other hand, over the last two weekends, I’ve seen people my age at the beaches, either walking or enjoying the view, which supports the Boomer stereotype of environmental awareness, interest in physical fitness, and a “smell the roses” attitude.
Last year, having extended my vacation a couple of days, I was in British Columbia for my birthday.
This year, I have a full-time, six-month contract at a South Shore company which is, as workplaces go, not a bad spot to be in. The colleagues are enlightened, the pay is good, and the client is incredible, turning invoices around in 24 hours.
I don’t feel any particular sense of accomplishment about turning 60. It doesn’t feel like a milestone, probably because it’s not connected with any institutional “coming of age”, like eligibility for early retirement.
Being an older woman in America confers no social status, for sure, unless you’re an older woman with money and a big house: in other words, someone useful for loans and parties.
As I’ve written before, a good friend of mine is planning to retire here later this year. I don’t envy her. She’s thinking about joining clubs and taking classes to pass the time.
Based on what I’ve been seeing, if she wants to spend her golden years in the company of smelly old men cracking gum, more power to her. I don’t.
When the Greatest Generation finally dies off, taking their sense of entitlement, martyrdom and phoney big government spending masquerading as conservative with them, then I’ll be happy about being an older person.
In other words, at that point, there’ll be no more guilt by association by having wrinkles and age spots.
And those are my thoughts on reaching 60.