Shakespeare died at age 52, which was almost 20 years later than most in that century. My father died at age 59, one month before his 60th birthday, and more than twenty years before most of his generation. Having the Crumpton genetics most profound in me, I used to joke, “I am my father, he died at fifty-nine.” When that birthday rolled around I was joy filled to still be kicking, working, and enjoying my family and friends. I stopped myself from making that statement a few years prior to my 60th. I didn’t want to die at 59, so why tempt the universe? (With years comes, at least, a bit of wisdom.)
I recently read an article by Jason Farago in the New York Times: ’Aging Pride’ Challenges the Cult of Youth. In it he writes about a current art exhibit in Vienna (oh, please do not digress…) The exhibit explores aging: the good, the bad and the sagging. Young or old, in what has been a strongly youth driven culture, this show must be wonderfully challenging to view. Youth facing an inevitable future and the aging surrounded by all their glory.
At 62, I am considered a Baby Boomer. There were a lot of us born between 1946 and 1964. We were a generation to change the world, end a war, love freely and, as we aged, chase our youth. Some of us never got over Twiggy and the Mod fashion revolution, others, the drugs.
In 1966, the oldest of the Boomers were on campus marching for peace, and I, at 9 and 10 years of age, was watching cartoons, idolizing my older brother with his long hair and guitar, and begging my parents for a copy of Seventeen magazine, “Pleeeeeze…” I longed to be a marcher for peace while perfectly dressed in a flowered mini skirt. We were pushing for social reform and freedom of expression, while the media was grooming us for consumerism and idolization of youth. Those were the good old days.
Somewhere in the 1970’s and 80’s elective cosmetic surgeries became quite popular. It may not have been the boomers getting face lifts and rhinoplasty, but as the years passed many have joined the ranks. I myself, have been caught in front of the mirror contemplating my skin pulled taut above my ears and then returning to its unfettered natural form.
No matter how one chases youth, aging happens, or we die. As Rick, Chief Executive of Love and Support, puts it when he hears my whining about the repercussions of aging, “It beats the alternative.”
I believe Baby Boomers, if for no other reason than sheer numbers, are still making social change by embracing our age and those before us, standing up for the rights of the elderly, the poor and the homeless, being politically active and saying, “be yourself.” Be free to be yourself; facelift, boob job, dyed hair or not, sags, bags, lost hair and lost words. Celebrate your life. Baby Boomers may be fast becoming the old generation, but we are a strongly motivated, compassionate, active, political bunch with a lot of snappy dressers.
Isabella