Friday, October 24, 2014

A Message From One Of The Last Baby Boomers

The latest issue of "Boomer" magazine revealed something to me that I'd not considered before: I'm not just a bookend to the baby-boomer generation, I'm at the tail end of the bookend.  There will be no baby-boomer under fifty once December 31st passes and the year 2015 rolls out.  My 50th birthday is November 1st.  I will join the ranks of the 50+ folks and, while simultaneously saying goodbye to my youth and embracing "Golden Girls" territory, I will take some small pleasure in being at the end of a trend.  It's kind of like being the baby in the family.  I know that experience well--being the youngest of five children.  It's still not an easy pill to swallow.

We of my generation have witnessed the upheavals wrought by the "elders" of the baby boomers.  We were pre-K when they were marching against the war in Vietnam and burning bras.  We were playing with toy guns while they were shooting real guns--some in Vietnam and some as National Guardsmen right here, shooting those who thought we shouldn't be soldiers.  We were riding bicycles with training wheels (without helmets) while Richard Nixon resigned in shame.  Yet all these events had indelible effects on our collective psyches.  We saw our "greatest generation" parents recoil in horror to the "loose morals" and open drug use displayed at Woodstock.  We watched our older brothers and sisters wishing they could be there.  We listened to the music of our older siblings and tried to grab the meanings of lyrics we were still unable to process.  But we liked it.  Most of it.  

I guess I was kind of cut from a different cloth.  I did indeed witness all of the above within the lenses of childhood glasses, real ones which were of the Coke bottle thickness variety and would forever alter my self-image.  From a very early age--to the best of my recollection--I wished that I'd been born into a different era.  I was drawn to the movies of the 1930s and 40s and would prefer to sit indoors on a beautiful Saturday to watch them instead of playing outside.  I loved the way people from the earlier era dressed.  I had a keen sense of style, or at least I thought I did.  I knew that the Brady Bunch fashions of the 70s were tacky and I thought that published materials such as books and magazines from an earlier time were much better.  I couldn't at the time say that the "better" was a certain polished advertisement or typeface...but I just knew it was better.  As I've come to understand the younger version of myself more than ever before, I'm glad I was "different." I've only recently come to view the fashions and styles of the 60s and 70s as a bit nostalgic.

When I look at the bigger picture, I think about the influence of the older baby-boomers on my life--as they were not just my siblings, but also older cousins.  I'm reminded that they've already crossed that bridge I'm about to cross.  I'm also comforted to see many of them having made peace with and embracing age.  I am doubly blessed as I have beat the odds to survive far past an expiration date that was given me by a doctor some twenty-one years ago.  I'm glad to be a baby-boomer.  I'm glad to be alive.  I'm glad to be crossing that bridge.
Me. Johnsonburg, Pennsylvania. 1966.

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