I’m a comparatively old woman here on Medium from what I can tell. I feel a bit lonely even if I am a baby boomer and part of a huge generation of some 70 million.
I wish I could see a show of hands of those on Medium over 60. I get the idea there aren’t too many of us. I could be wrong. I’ve only been writing here a month.
Most boomers are wrapping up their final acts and dying off like flies. it’s rather disturbing. The youngest, however, are only 54, so folks are going to have to put up with Boomers for a while. Some of us may be around another 40 years.
I heard that collective groan.
It’s true. Boomers hanging around for another 30 or 40 years doesn’t sound like good news for society. Where on earth are you going to put us? You’ll eventually run out of rest homes and assisted living facilities and then we’ll invade your homes. Remember that nursery you were planning to turn into an office?
We’re so annoying, I know. We stole Facebook from the younger folks. Then when we got on Instagram, too, young people whined, “we can’t have anything.”
I’m sure it’s frustrating most of my generation are not computer-impaired and can live in the digital age almost as well as our children. Grandchildren are a different matter — they’re all internet gurus who can make computers and smart phones perform magical tricks.
I’m glad my parents and grandparents couldn’t see my interactions with friends. That would have resulted in big trouble for teen-aged me. Yet young people today deal with their elders snooping around on their platforms. My daughter, when she was still a teen, accused me of stalking her online. I was guilty as accused but it didn’t do me any good. That little minx still got into surprisingly serious trouble.
Don’t mind me, I’m just hanging out here with the lost socks.
Cremation is probably going to gain popularity as the cost of cemetery lots soar. I’ll probably end up in a box under one of the kids’ beds. They’ll intend to get a nice urn for me or spread my ashes out somewhere nice, but if they take care of that chore as well as they cleaned their rooms and did their homework, I’ll never make it out from under the bed. My eternal resting place will be right there with the lost socks, dust bunnies and cobwebs.
Some of us old people are carrying a grudge. We had to raise our kids’ children because so many GenX and Millenials were drunk or on drugs or just too damn irresponsible to take care of them. It’s partly our own fault since we Boomers spoiled our kids rotten. Some of us weren’t so great at parenting ourselves, either, to be honest. We became much better at it while raising our grandchildren.
The silver lining is that for many of us, those grandkids our kids left for us to raise turned out to be the best things in our lives. But still, it was their job!
So, after having to raise two generations, we have no intentions of quietly fading away into the sunset. Boomers won’t go off into old age gracefully like our grandparents did. Oh hell no. We still play loud rock music, watch YouTube videos, and protest something on a regular basis. We’re still wearing jeans, leggings, boots and high heels, too. We never went for the double- knit slacks our mothers wore and probably none of us own a shawl.
No old people clothes for us!
Speaking of mothers, mine is still alive and well. She still bosses me around and is the unchallenged matriarch of our family. So I do know how y’all feel sometimes. I went over to visit her yesterday but she wasn’t home. I found out later she’d saddled up her SUV and gone shopping and then to get herself a steak sandwich and a milkshake. Although our town is tiny, I drove around, but couldn’t find her. I wonder if she’s got a secret boyfriend?
Aren’t 90-year-old women supposed to be frail and in rest homes? If so, Momma didn’t get the memo. She picked up a bucket full of pecans today. Picking up just half a bucket almost killed me a few days ago. Boomers are still wussies compared to the Greatest Generation.
We know everything…
Younger generations should be thrilled to have Boomers writing on your platforms since we know every damn thing. If you don’t believe it, just ask us; especially our menfolk.
If I’m honest, it goes both ways. A few 20-somethings who try to write like wizened ole sages irritate me. On the other hand I’ve noticed so many people here who are still young but talented and successful writers. I’m in awe and envious, too. How do they do that?
I couldn’t write shit until I got old. Well, I could write shit — and I wrote a lot of it. I should have said I couldn’t write well. In my 20s and 30s I was too busy being crazy and wild to write.
The competition here is stiff. It’s hard for me to imagine being able to write as well as many of the young people on Medium. Many will be famous authors. Some already are. I’m a little intimidated.
If I were young again I’d still go out living instead of sitting around writing. I told myself I could write when there was nothing else to do.
As I got older I wrote enough to make a living by working at newspapers, but most of my time was still spent doing things rather than writing about it. I figured I’d write about all the great memories I was making later. Little did I know I’d forget so damn many of them.
So that’s what I’m doing out here on this youth-dominant platform. I’m still trying to scribble with the best of you and remember what it was I wanted to say. I’m not even sure it’s very important anymore.
Furniture I bought new is antique
I love being around young people as long as they don’t remind me how old I am. Believe me, it sucks when people are impressed by my “antique” furniture that I bought brand new as a young woman. Sometimes I feel like I’m an antique, too. But hey, I have good bones, like an old house.
I do hope there are a lot of people my age here on Medium. I’ve met a few, I’m happy to say, so I know I’m not the only relic amongst all the fresh voices.
I can’t annoy all the young people alone. I’ll need help. So I’m looking for others like me to help me gang up on them. We Boomers may be older than dirt, but we’re still holding our own; especially in groups.
Honestly, sometimes words don’t come to me as easily as they once did. That’s scary as hell.
Anyone else out here like that? We should “do lunch” (isn’t that how you say it?) or have some wine, or hell, I don’t know, get our toenails cut?
Writing about life after 60…
Or maybe we can just keep writing about life after 60 and how that feels. I had no idea. I was young and had my whole life to live. Then one day — and it really was like one day — I woke up and it was late in my life. I was old. I never thought about it and then I did and it was devastating. The realization that I was running out of time to do the things I wanted to do rocked my world.
Oh well. I need to lighten the mood. There are some benefits to being an old woman. One thing I’m thrilled about is I can get away with a lot of things; another is that there’s a lot of stuff I just don’t care about anymore.
I’ve quit plucking my eyebrows and yanking whiskers off my chin with tweezers. Whatever made me want to go through that torture for 40 years? I guess it mattered then. Now I just get that little women’s shaver thingie and buzz off whatever shouldn’t be growing wherever. My chin isn’t as smooth, but who cares? Hair grows out of my husband’s ears now, so he’s got no room to complain and I couldn’t care less what anyone else thinks.
There are a lot of good things about being older. I’ll write about them later. When I can remember them. Right now I’m tired and ready to toddle off to bed.
Goodnight, Mrs. Calabash.
If you know where that originated, I’m sorry, but you’re old, too.