baby boomers

Boomer Women, Will We All Be Bag Ladies?

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I thought it was my private dirty secret, the fear that I would end my days as a bag lady, stockings rolled down around my ankles, sitting on a curb and yelling at passers-by. But according to Lisa Schwarzbaum’s article in the New York Time’s Magazine, a survey by a life insurance company found that nearly half of all American women share that same fear.

I don’t know whether to feel relief in a shared irrational fear or sadness that it’s especially rampant among Baby Boomer women. We are the generation, after all, that was raised on a mixed message: as a female, you can be anything you want. You can grow up to be a doctor, lawyer, Indian chief. However, you don’t really need to prepare for a professional future since you’ll probably be a housewife and mother. I’ve carried around the bag-lady-to-be persona buried deep inside for a long time, although she really started screaming for attention when I got divorced and realized I was one good divorce lawyer away from sleeping in my car. I exaggerate, but you get the point. Based on Schwarzbaum’s recap of Woody Allen’s new movie, Blue Jasmine, I’m considering gathering a coterie of baby boomer women friends to see it together, but we might just run screaming from the theater. Ladies, fess up please–anyone else share this nagging nightmare?

Viet Nam Remembered

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Viet Nam Remembered

“The biggest lesson I learned from Vietnam is not to trust [our own] government’s statements. I had no idea until then that you could not really rely on them.”
William Fulbright

35 years ago, America was just starting its “nice little war” in the unknown country of Vietnam. Having learned nothing from the French, our government proceeded to embroil the United States in what may be the most divisive episode of the 20th century.For those interested in taking a close look at those early years, check out Once Upon a Distant War, by William Prochnau. In the New York Times Book Review, Christopher Lehmann-Haupt says Prochnau has “brought the story of that involvement to vividly dramatic life as few previous books have done.” The book concentrates on the young foreign correspondents who brought the war home, especially David Halberstam, Malcolm Brown, Horst Faas, NeilSheehan, Charley Mohr, and Peter Arnett. In telling their story, Prochnau describes the unfolding of what would become both a publicity and policy disaster for the Kennedy administration and for the nation.

Lehmann-Haupt says “Prochnau manages to convey with fresh authority what it was like to be a reporter in Vietnam in those early years, the excitement the experience offered, the danger that it threatened and the ingenuity required to get the story out…Once Upon a Distant War is an important book, a good story that illustrates powerfully the interplay of strong individual characters and faceless historical forces.” We’ve read the book and it lives up to all expectations, not to mention filling in those early years when some us of were young enough to be excused from the nightly news.

There is also a new CD-ROM “The War in Vietnam” on the market, co-produced by The New York Times and CBS News. We haven’t seen it, but it’s apparently filled with hyperlinks featuring photos, video clips, new reports, and analyses. It also has a searchable database of the names and hometowns of veterans as recorded on the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington DC.

Who’s Zoomin’ Who?

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It’s been years here and one theme runs on like an old scratchy record-vinyl-(surely you remember vinyl). Gen-Xers hate us. They despise us, loathe us, feeling nothing but contempt for us.

At the risk of ducking rotten tomatoes for the rest of my apparently worthless life, I finally have to ask-why?

We grew up in upwardly mobile families, we had the world on a string. And yet, many (you do remember the March on Washington) of us felt the world could be a better place. Not just for us, mind you—most of us had it pretty good already. We felt discrimination, racial and gender bias were wrong. We felt that the war (you do remember Vietnam) was wrong. We believed that opportunity should not be based on bank balances or last names. We did not want to be the Stepford Generation—molded into our parents’ image. We wanted to have fun (like you), be heard (like you), and make a real difference (not so like you).

The people who educated those of you in your mid-30’s were not us. The people who made policy were not us. The people America elected were not us. And the people who raised you were most certainly not us.

Our dreams may not have come true. Most of us “grew up,” got married, had children, held down jobs. Most of us felt we had not done enough. But maybe we did. When was the last time you saw an African American being sent to the back of the bus? Did you get to play sports in high school or college because of Title IX? Did any of you have to have a back-alley abortion? Has affirmative action provided you with an education or a job? You may not think it’s much—but every generation’s job—yes, job-is to question, to rile things up, to try to make the world better.

We didn’t bitch about the job market, we went to work. Some even worked for almost no money in social services, education, public service. Some of us worked through child-rearing and not necessarily because we wanted to. Some of us have been phased out because we’re too “old”—-apparently experience just doesn’t mean much anymore.

I hope you’ll see, when you’re done bitching about the last dotcom gone down, that sometimes we all have to adjust our dreams. We wanted to make a better world-we did the best we could, and we’re still doing it. Raising our children, working our jobs, living our lives in the best way we know how. Maybe it’s your turn.

 

We Are One (and Boy, Are We Cold)

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If you missed this afternoon’s Inaugural Celebration–We Are One concert, HBO will be presenting it again this evening. And if you don’t subscribe to HBO, get this–they have opened up access to the channel to all of us for this one event. More details at HBO.

Putting aside jaded musical taste, remnants of cynicism, and the football game, this was a wonderful LIVE show: sincere, entertaining and moving at times. Personal fave moments: Soulful Bettye Lavette and just as soulful Jon Bon Jovi; Pete Seeger doing what he’s been doing for eons–talking the lyrics a beat ahead so that we can all sing along; Renee Fleming looking ab fab singing the crap out of “You’ll Never Walk Alone”; Garth Brooks rousing the audience with–guess… Okay, you can’t guess–“Shout.”

Because of both the place and the date, parallels to the March on Washington were obvious and yet inspiring. Lots of star power speakers made sure we didn’t miss that or any other historical significance. And they did a darn fine job.

The presidential family and guests seemed to be having a grand time, although I can’t imagine they weren’t cold–the girls didn’t even have mittens on. My hands got cold just watching.

Like Grant Park, the audience was thrillingly diverse. Where else will you see a balding boomer standing next to young tween black girls and punksters with what looked to be painful piercings, and Gen-X parents with kids on their shoulders and they’re ALL singing “This Land is Your Land?” and not even ironically.

 

The Oldest Living Human on Facebook

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I wrote this in the Dark Ages…in internet years. Facebook sure ain’t what it used to be. Now even my 92-year old uncle is on. This was a post on AgingHipsters, the Baby Boomer Homepage, of which I was co-founder.

Recently my college-bound son invited me to be his friend on Facebook. Whether this was a temporary lapse into cuteness, sentimentality, or mischief, even he isn’t sure. But, like the intrepid internet pioneer I am, I said “golly, sure thing” and registered. Originally intended as the private domain of college kids with .edu addresses, Facebook now allows pretty much anyone to register.

Little did I know what I would face as the Oldest Living Human on Facebook. But first the good stuff. A parent with less-than-pure intentions could, for example, post embarrassing comments on a child’s ‘wall.’ While their friends are posting quick comments in kid-code, you could, maybe, write “hugs and kisses from mommy.” Not that you would, but you could. Then you could upload that cute picture of little Bobby buck-naked in the wading pool when he was 2. Not that you would.

If you have a pretty good rapport with your kid’s friends, some of them may even invite you to be a friend, which spares you the humiliation of having only one or two friends on your profile. Is this beginning to remind anyone of choosing up teams for grade-school kickball? I anxiously check each day (OK, each hour) to see if anyone has picked me.

Another good thing is that you can occasionally (Ok every hour) look at your kid’s profile–see who his new friends are, what groups he’s joined, what new pictures are up. You might even learn where the hell he was till 4:00 am last Friday. Do this at your own risk–there’s such a thing as too much information.
And if you use Facebook as it was probably intended, it’s a pretty good place to set up a group if you’re trying to hook up with old camp friends or everyone in your bowling league, for example.

But, there are downsides to being the O.L.H. on Facebook. Take this group I came across: “EWW–Why Do Old People Have Facebook?”
To paraphrase Sally Field, ‘they hate us, they really hate us.” Actually, this group is pretty tame compared to some of the others that really do seem to hate us. But hey, we’re 75 million boomers, we’re used to it.

Then there are the warm-but-snarky messages from kid’s friends or friends’ kids. The “what-the-hell-are-YOU-doing-here-but-since-you-are-this-is-so-cute” notes. Mostly they beg me not to tell their parents how to do it. I duly promise to live by a don’t ask/don’t tell policy and to misdirect any other adults trying to sign on.

What none of these kids seem to know is that we were the original social networkers. Does anyone remember The Well? Started by the folks who brought us the Whole Earth Catalog, it’s been online since 1985. These kids weren’t born yet. If you were really geeky, you could open a Terminal connection to someone else’s computer and do a caveman-style version of chat. Then we had Prodigy and AOL. In fact, AgingHipsters got its start in the Baby Boomer Conference Room on AOL. I believe my son was five at the time. After AOL, some of the more adventurous boomers moved on to IRC. It was a little klutzy, but when has pioneering life ever been easy?

So there I am, looking a little foolish, on Facebook. My friends’ list has grown by vast numbers to…6. But, we boomers have a long history of both adaptation and innovation. I will find ways to make their Facebook my Facebook. I’ve started an alumni group for my summer camp, Camp Vega–so far we only have 3 members, but I’m confident other O.L.H.s will find their way there. All they’ll need is a decoder ring, some age-blindness, and a little chutzpah.

Do Boomers Still Dig Rock & Roll Music? What’s on Your Playlists?

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When, in preparation for his New York Times article about Boomers and music, Jeff Leeds interviewed me, I started thinking about the way I listen to music today as opposed to back in the day. For the most part I still listen to a lot of what I listened to then–Tom Waits, Bonnie Raitt, Steely Dan, Springsteen, the Allman Brothers, a bit of blues, a lot of Billie Holiday and Ella, a lot of jazz. I haven’t bought a current CD by anybody, even old favorites, in the last few years. My last new discoveries were Delbert McClinton who’s been around for at least 30 years and Eva Cassidy, who’s dead.

For a while I was all about staying current. I liked Counting Crows for a minute and a half when they came out. I like Alannis Morrisette for a day or two. I was quoted in the article saying that if I want to know what’s cool, I ask my 22-year old. That’s true but it doesn’t mean I like much of what I hear. I like some Ween, some Sublime. I’ve been trying Matis Yahu lately and Gnarls Barkley. But I couldn’t tell you what any of them look like, who the personnel is, who’s the cool session guy sitting in, or even what their albums are called. These days listening is more like dim sum—a little this, a little that. It’s not the same as knowing which Bonnie Raitt albums Freebo played on or that Wayne Shorter played on Steely Dan’s Aja.

I’ll keep listening for new discoveries and nod towards what’s absolutely this minute, but I think my days of laying on the floor between the speakers are over. Billie Holiday will always make me cry when she sings Travelin’ Light, Tom Waits will always blow me away with Christmas Card From A Hooker In Minneapolis, and I’ll always rock out with the Allman Brothers. But I’m pretty sure I haven’t been cool for quite a while. And I figure at my age, it’s time to get over it.

Just for fun, let’s lay it out there. What were the last 10 songs you added to a playlist? Don’t go searching your play list for the coolest stuff, just the last 10 you added. Who knows, maybe we can turn each other on to new music or remind ourselves of old favorites. I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours:
1. Delbert McClinton & Danny Gatton–Sun Medley
2. Chris Smither–Frankie & Albert
3. Jet–Are You Gonna Be My Girl?
4. Keb Mo–Shave Yo Legs
5. Matis Yahu– Chop em Down
6. Dean Friedman–Ariel
7. Drive By Truckers (thank you, Jeff Leeds)–Goddam Lonely Love
8. Johnny Mathis–Chances Are
9. Dirtie Blonde–Walk All Over Me
10. Gnarls Barkley–Gone Daddy Gone

Boomer Radio?

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We are so special that we require our very own radio show. Called  Encore Living, the call-in radio show apparently caters to boomers, with such topics as travel, entertainment, legal affairs, health, financial news, and a little Las Vegas comedy from Buddy Hackett’s son, Sandy.

The show, which has launched in about a dozen cities, is meant to be the next best thing for our generation since we are either ignored or dissed by younger generations (read ‘market share’). However, during a brief listen to their sales clip, I heard the word ‘senior’ a dozen times as well as some decidedly un-hip radio chitchat.

For those of us who have turned into our parents, Encore Living may be right on target. However, if I need to feel old, I just listen to my kids’ music.