BABY BOOMER DEATH MARCH

What Happens When That Music Starts?

From the Washington Post:

“In January, the CDC reported that an average of six people die every day because of alcohol poisoning and that 76 percent are ages 35 to 64. Three-quarters are men.”

That party bus of life shifted gears when we weren’t looking. The baby boomer mantra of youth calling for Sex, Drugs, Rock and Roll turned into drugs, alcohol, and suicide.

When the Center For Disease Control kicks in you know there’s a problem.

On one hand it’s a celebration of longer life and expanded opportunities for middle aged white men. Then they get older.

If you’ve spent time with the infirm elderly, a term that doesn’t sound like a bright welcome to each new day, then you know the story.

You’ve heard someone say, “I don’t even know why I’m here,” as they walk with the four new friends they found after a medication adjustment.

The first time I experienced that phenomena with a neighbor man I was suspicious. My first thought was he’d gone crazy and one of the new voices would push him toward new actions, like whooping up on his neighbor.

We talked it out.

“Are they nice friends?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but they won’t leave me alone.”

“Maybe they want to help you?”

“Why won’t they leave me alone.”

This conversation happened near the common mailbox; just the two of us.

The same man complained about fireworks on the 4th, Christmas trees at the curb, and more. He was cranky at best, but not a bad man.

“Are your new friends here right now?” I asked.

“Can’t you see them?”

What’s the right answer? Yes gives into the fantasy, no might agitate the old man. What to do?

“They don’t want me to see them.”

“How can you help not see them. They’re right in front of you. Can’t you young people even see anymore?”

There’s the challenge.

“Oh, now I do. There they are. They look nice. Listen, I’ve got a few things to do at my place. If I need a hand I’ll call for them. Is that okay?”

He muttered something, probably meant for his guys.

This wasn’t a man on the baby boomer death march. He was too old, but the signs were popping up for the future.

Cheers is the wrong word.