BABY BOOMER BABBLE
Seasons
The miles are being spent. Let's face it, we boomers are
getting older. We are turning sixty-two at the rate of 330 every hour, and will
continue to do so until 2022. That's a lot of old. So now what?
When we were young, we took it all on. We fought the
government, ended a war, threw out a President or two, cut new paths from the
concrete, ignored the signs and walked on the lawn, and dared to let our hair
grow long. It was a direct affront on our parents. Products of WWII, and raised
by parents who had lived through the Great Depression, they tended to be
careful, moderate, followers, and obedient. We tended to be rowdy, radical, and
disobedient. Our fathers barely spoke of the war, not able to come to terms
with what they had seen or had to do. We asked the questions, but they seldom
got answered. We were a motley crew. Rock & roll, long, hair, drugs, and
higher education took us away from tradition and the status quo and radicalized
us, made us look outside our early parental training, our communities, and
moved us towards a more worldly view. It was spring.
I got married when I was 23, my wife 22. We got married in a
Catholic Church, with a Protestant minister included. This was the first
inter-faith marriage in our community, performed in one church. Our marriage
song was "A Bridge Over Troubled Water," by Simon & Garfunkel, a
shock to the older participants, probably including our parents. The gathering
included some pretty strange looking folks, and one African American, probably
another first for this church. We boomers were just getting started on our own.
More of us had attended college than any previous generation, and we had our
own war to contend with. Vietnam. We approached the war pretty much the same as
each previous generation. We served, by and large, with little objection. But
it was not to remain that way. The goals were not near as clear as in the past,
the mission not near as well defined. In the end, we were instrumental in
ending it. We started careers, had an average of around two children, and
settled in, as best we could. After all, it was summer.
Careers take time to build. Boomers covered it all.
Manufacturing was booming, so a higher education, while pursued by many, was
not necessary to make a decent living. We went in all directions. Scientists,
social workers, sanitary workers, car makers, plant growers. For most of our
working years, there was plenty of work. Most could bang out a living. The goal
was to acquire a house, a car or two, have two kids, pay the bills, save a
little, and look forward to retirement. It has only been recently that this
dream has been interrupted by globalization and the desire of big business to
find cheap labor oversees. We were going to take it easy in retirement. Fall is
the time to start slowing down.
When I look back over the seasons, there are some things I
don't like. We will all see things that are painful, that depress us, fill us
with regret. Oh, if only ... I should have ... Why didn't I? It's usually the
failures that haunt us. The loses, the longing for more, the uncertainties of
what could have been. Now it's winter, and what am I to do? I'm tired and need
to sleep more than I did. My thoughts turn inward and I wonder how I could have
done things differently. Better. Can I use my disappointments to still move me
in new directions? Can I bring the past to a point of conciliation and not
worry about the future? Can I live in the now? This will be the dominating question
for us Boomers over the coming years. Will we rise to the season? After all, we
will now be the elders. It is said the elders are the holders of "the
wisdom," and it seems wisdom is in short supply these days. The words of
the elders in the winter are to show the way for the younger generation. To
inspire them to new heights, to take new paths, to help them find their own
voices. It is our winter, and our time. Dare we challenge the seasons?