AGE APPROPRIATE FOR BOOMERS GROWING OLDER AND HEARING ABOUT IT

What is or isn’t age appropriate for boomers depends on who makes the call.

And when.

Because if it’s a matter of TIMING, a judgement on aging is just another opinion. Probably an expert opinion.

One response to critiques at an inconvenient time is, “It’s time to shut up.”

Since this is a polite blog and telling people to shut up is not age appropriate at any time, don’t be a rude boy.

But still . . . ?

Who would say, “Take that shit over there, son,” instead?

If you follow any self-professed ‘Boomer’ on social media then you know who we are. And it’s no surprise.

We’re the people ruining the world, ruining everything in it, everyone on it, and everything around it. And yet we’re not bad people.

In other words, boomers are handy scapegoats.

Lack Of Common Decency Is A Real Problem

Ask any self-righteous boomer about parenting and brace yourself.

“My mother whipped me with an extension cord and I turned out fine,” you will hear.

“My dad swung a razor strop when I got out of line and deserved it,” is another.

“When my parents needed daycare for us they chose the woman who said she’d only do the job if she was allowed to whip us, and they were right,” said no one ever.

Except Violet.

2

Ask boomers hard questions and they go right to the hard part: “We had it hard, man.”

Some had it hard, some made it hard, and it’s hard to tell the difference if you don’t know better.

One boomer explained the hardest part of leadership to my wife. He talked about going out on patrols in the Vietnam jungles, getting ambushed, and how hard it was writing those letters to kids’ parents.

After telling his adult kids what a genuine great man their dad was based on his service, one kid said, “He likes telling the story, but always leaves out the part about being a National Guard soldier who went to camp, not Vietnam.”

Stolen valor is not so funny when the wife tears up.

Age Appropriate Stories, Or Just More BS

One of the kicks about running a Boomer Blog is showing readers the potholes of boomer life based on hard experience.

The older they (we) get, the looser the moorings to reality. Why? If you need to ask, then you don’t know boomers.

Older people have fewer checks and balances. What if some boomer starts talking about their childhood and you suspect it’s not quite right? Are you going to ask their parents if they’re telling the truth?

That’s one of the blog keys here: honesty.

My relationship with readers skips the bullshit. I follow the golden rule of writers: write something of interest, or do something interesting and write about it.

It’s that simple. And it’s not easy, but since I’m a boomer I’m probably exaggerating.

The Big Story Gets Bigger Every Time

There’s a movie about big stories getting out of hand.

My Movie would star a country boy genius who builds an airplane in a barn out of spare farm machinery.

He would build an airplane in a barn even though his dad said, “Son, don’t build an airplane in the barn.”

He would fly in every war, get shot down in every war, and escape from POW camps in every war. And he could talk about navigating the German countryside, the Korean mountainsides, and Vietnam triple canopy dark side like he’e been there.

In other words, My Movie would star my future father in-law, a slow talker with lots to say.

He delivered different versions of his life. One included being a Monster Back for the Michigan Wolverines, winning the Rose Bowl and marrying the Princess, then going to war and coming back to play for the Detroit Lions.

It was an unbelievable experience to sit through, and I sat through it. Why would you do the same?

Because it’s the kind thing to do.

Instead of some old guy in a rest home, he was a T-topped TransAm driving, big motorcycle riding with a naked lady on the gas cap, playboy.

And my mother in-law’s second husband.

I chose calm and kindness because I knew I was spending a few day at their place on a Culver City hillside watching planes land at LAX ten miles away after a day in the pool. Being a good listener instead of a reactive dick who has to prove right or wrong with a bad attitude was the right choice.

It was age appropriate, my age, to let it roll. He wasn’t a danger, just a nutty old shit no one disagreed with, or corrected, or really listened to. I was just the new audience.

Being kind and sharing time together can be anything you make of it, like my future wife’s and my drive from LA to Portland.

“I’ve never seen so much crap in one spill.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your dad’s stories.”

“My step-dad. I’ve heard them before.”

“Were they as nutty then as they were this time?”

“He’s had a full life.”

“I have to agree, he’s full. Of what I don’t know.”

“He’s been a lot of places.”

“He’s been everywhere.”

“And done a lot of things.”

“Everything, he’s done everything.”

“You sound like you don’t believe him.”

“Only because it can’t be true. Other than that, I believe him.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Age Appropriate Boomers

And we were off.

“Well, it’s like this. . .”