F-f-fifty Something

The oldest baby boomers turn 60 this year. I’m only a few years behind them, yet I have only just begun to admit that to anyone other than blood relatives and my wife. I am trying to get comfortable with saying f-f-fifty f-f … (this is the only time I stutter).

Like many boomers my age, I don’t look, act or feel like I’m (the number would go here if I were to say it). The few co-workers who know the number can’t believe it. I can’t believe it.

I recently recorded the first Boomer Talk segment of a radio show I host in Washington DC. Boomer Talk is a 15-minute panel discussion by boomers about boomers. We range in age from 43 to 59. I promised my three cohorts before the show that if they said their ages, I’d say mine. Midway through the program I asked if they were sensitive about their age, and asked each one if they would state their age. The almost-60 guy answered first. Each of them said they are not especially sensitive about their age and said the number. Out loud! I lived up to my promise when asked and said I am (the number I get when I subtract the year of my birth from the current year).

OK, yes, I’m sensitive about my age. I said the number on the radio but I won’t say it here – at least not yet.

What does it mean to be a baby boomer?

The technical answer, according to demographers, is that to be a boomer means you were born between 1946 and 1964. That’s it. No application form, no dues, no initiation ceremony. Just a 4-digit number on your birth certificate.

But dig deeper and you realize it means a whole lot more. We rule the world. There are about 85 million of us in the United States alone. We’re the big bulge on the demographic charts, the folks with the money and the power (Clinton and Bush were both born in 1946), the generation that changed the world. We fought racism, sexism and now ageism. We married later and more often. We’re living longer and healthier lives than our parents did. We were and are idealistic dreamers who lived out our dreams.

Boomers with kids sometimes look at their offspring with that same “I don’t get it” look our parents gave us in the 60s. I don’t get rap; my parents didn’t get Zeppelin. Many boomer parents tossed discipline out the window when raising their kids, maybe as a reaction to the rigidness of their own parents.

I’m in that apparently small percentage of boomers who never had kids. Three wives but no kids. No medical problem here. Don’t need Viagra. It just never worked out. The first two marriages didn’t last very long, and my current marriage started too late for both of us to start a family. Having kids after age 45 seems to be a growing trend, but not for my wife and I. We have dogs. That’s enough at this age.

Of course I will regret not having kids when I’m 80 or 90. My sister and I (mostly my sister) became like parents to our parents, taking care of them during their unhealthy years. Both parents lived much longer than the average life expectancy of people in their generation, in part because of generally healthy lifestyle habits and in part because of miraculous genetics. My mother and her 3 siblings all made it into their 90s, dad and his into their 80s. I think I’m only halfway down the field. I’m sure I will outlive my wife and my friends. In fact, I’m so worried about the unexpected parts of my future that I’m intentionally trying to cultivate younger friends.

So what is the point of this blog?

Hell if I know. As I grow older, I have a greater need to communicate than I did at a younger age. This mostly one-way style suits me fine. I welcome feedback and an exchange of ideas, but I’ll be happy if I’m the only reader of this material.

I have many opportunities for communication and expression in my job in broadcasting. My full time job basically involves producing commercials. The third title on my business card names what I do from the heart more than from the practical matter of making a living ... I produce and sometimes host the Sunday morning programs on several radio stations. In that role, I mostly ask the questions and keep the opinions to myself (with the possible exception of the Boomer Talk segment). This blog might turn into a place where I express my opinion, for no particular reason other than that I can. This represents my opinion and has absolutely nothing to do with the views of my employer.

That’s all for the first post. It’s actually a warm and sunny Saturday in March, so I will now shut off the computer and start up a noisy chain saw to trim some trees.