This afternoon as I walked out of Walgreen's, I saw an old man wearing blue coveralls at the Redbox getting a DVD. I gave him a second look and thought, "He's cute." As I got in my car and maneuvered my way into the school's-out traffic on FM2100, a feeling of utter surprise washed over me. "OMG, Carolyn! You just looked at an old man wearing blue coveralls and thought he was cute! What has happened?" Wasn't it just the other day that a teenaged me was looking at high school boys. How did those high school boys turn into old men wearing blue coveralls so quickly!
A couple or three years ago, my friend Alex, who is fifteen days younger than I and never lets me forget it, said to me, "For God's sake, Carolyn. You're almost seventy." I don't even remember what action or statement of mine provoked that comment. but I do remember my response. I told her that she could be "almost seventy" if she wanted to, but I was not yet that old. Well, I guess I have to own up to it. Now I AM almost seventy.
As I drove on home from Walgreen's I pondered that fact and I decided that it's not so bad to be almost seventy. It's surprising to me the number of friends I made independent of high school or college who were also born in 1941. A couple of them have already turned seventy this year. Both seem very proud of that accomplishment.
Demographers have had a difficult time categorizing those of us who were born in 1941. We can't really be called "depression babies" as the nation had begun to climb out of the Great Depression by the time we were born. We also aren't "war babies" because the vast majority of us were born prior to our entry into WWII in December 1941. The largest demographic group of all time, the "Baby Boomers," didn't begin to come along until after the war in 1946 or 1947.
So here we are: part of a small demographic group born between say 1938 or 1939 and 1941 or 1942. We ushered in Elvis, Rock and Roll and American Bandstand in the 1950s Television sets invaded most of our living rooms before we graduated high school. We sat in our backyards on cold, dark nights to watch Sputnik traverse the sky. Our fathers and big brothers fought in WWII and Korea. Many didn't come home. Many of us fought in Vietnam and a lot of us didn't come home either. Hardly anybody thanked us for that. We marched in the Civil Rights Movement and demonstrated for the Equal Rights Amendment. We've been to our 50th high school reunions and felt and acted like kids again. Throughout our lives we have broken ground and paved the way for the Baby Boomers who follow us.
Back in the 1970s I heard us referred to as the "do nothing generation." I resented that term at the time and I resent it to this day. Finally, about 2003, I heard us identified as "the Elders." "Great!" I thought. They finally got around to giving us a name and it's really not very complimentary. Then I heard an explanation. The demographers in their wisdom have decided to lump us in with those fathers and brothers who fought in WWII and say that we are at the tail-end of "The Greatest Generation." I don't know about all of my "Elder" friends, but I think that's just fine! To my mind, there couldn't be a better bunch in all of history to rub our demographic elbows with.
So here's to you Baby Boomers and Generation Xers and Yers and whoever else is coming along! We're still paving the way for you. And here's to all you cute old men in blue coveralls! We ain't dead yet, are we? So being almost seventy isn't bad at all.
A couple or three years ago, my friend Alex, who is fifteen days younger than I and never lets me forget it, said to me, "For God's sake, Carolyn. You're almost seventy." I don't even remember what action or statement of mine provoked that comment. but I do remember my response. I told her that she could be "almost seventy" if she wanted to, but I was not yet that old. Well, I guess I have to own up to it. Now I AM almost seventy.
As I drove on home from Walgreen's I pondered that fact and I decided that it's not so bad to be almost seventy. It's surprising to me the number of friends I made independent of high school or college who were also born in 1941. A couple of them have already turned seventy this year. Both seem very proud of that accomplishment.
Demographers have had a difficult time categorizing those of us who were born in 1941. We can't really be called "depression babies" as the nation had begun to climb out of the Great Depression by the time we were born. We also aren't "war babies" because the vast majority of us were born prior to our entry into WWII in December 1941. The largest demographic group of all time, the "Baby Boomers," didn't begin to come along until after the war in 1946 or 1947.
So here we are: part of a small demographic group born between say 1938 or 1939 and 1941 or 1942. We ushered in Elvis, Rock and Roll and American Bandstand in the 1950s Television sets invaded most of our living rooms before we graduated high school. We sat in our backyards on cold, dark nights to watch Sputnik traverse the sky. Our fathers and big brothers fought in WWII and Korea. Many didn't come home. Many of us fought in Vietnam and a lot of us didn't come home either. Hardly anybody thanked us for that. We marched in the Civil Rights Movement and demonstrated for the Equal Rights Amendment. We've been to our 50th high school reunions and felt and acted like kids again. Throughout our lives we have broken ground and paved the way for the Baby Boomers who follow us.
Back in the 1970s I heard us referred to as the "do nothing generation." I resented that term at the time and I resent it to this day. Finally, about 2003, I heard us identified as "the Elders." "Great!" I thought. They finally got around to giving us a name and it's really not very complimentary. Then I heard an explanation. The demographers in their wisdom have decided to lump us in with those fathers and brothers who fought in WWII and say that we are at the tail-end of "The Greatest Generation." I don't know about all of my "Elder" friends, but I think that's just fine! To my mind, there couldn't be a better bunch in all of history to rub our demographic elbows with.
So here's to you Baby Boomers and Generation Xers and Yers and whoever else is coming along! We're still paving the way for you. And here's to all you cute old men in blue coveralls! We ain't dead yet, are we? So being almost seventy isn't bad at all.
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