Growing Older with a Modicum of Dignity
I’ve been getting quite a bit of mail lately from the AARP; email, snail mail, postcards. Thank goodness they don’t have my phone number.
Now granted, I’m closer to 50 than to 40, but seriously? AARP? That’s the organization my grandma belonged to. She had some kind of membership and received their magazines that had cover stories featuring people like Bob Hope and Debbie Reynolds and Tip O’Neill. The articles were all about enjoying your golden years and keeping your arthritic joins well-lubricated. Human interest stories talked about 85-year-old grandmas who lived in Sun City, Arizona and stayed active bicycling and I swear there was a monthly column with tips for bridge players.
Now perhaps it’s true what they say; baby boomers changed the definition of the senior citizen forever. A Grandma no longer sits in a rocking chair, wearing a shawl, and watching Lawrence Welk show reruns on PBS. Grandmas and great-grandmas alike are putting in a day at the office like everyone else. 60 is the new 50 and all that.
All I know is that I don’t feel anywhere near as “old” as I probably should. Case in point – I got my first tattoo at age 40 and have added several more since then. I’ll be in the workplace for quite some time yet and my coworkers will, I’m sure, continue to be all ages – some will be AARP members and some will be the “30 under 30” crowd. Gen Z coming in; Boomers hanging on.
Am I going to hit some point in my life when the highlight of my week will be the regular visit to the beauty parlor to have my permed, grey hair set and styled? Wow. I hope not.