PRISONERS OF AGE

 

One of the greatest myths in Boomertown is that advancing years open up worlds of wonder, exploration, understanding and relative tranquillity. Time itself doesn’t appear as the enemy or, at least, the force that travels around the town with a big stick. A strict adherence to the clock is for the workers, the kiddies and anyone else who is unsuitable for membership to the Sexy Super Sixty-plus Club.

There are regulation descriptions and statements that are always used by seniors to piss around their turf. Examples include-

·         I don’t know where I found the time to work.

·         This is the life.

·         I’m living the dream.

·         Life is good.

·         I worked all my life. Now is the time to ‘enjoy’.

Please note that the veracity of any or all of these statements should never be tested since myth deconstruction is trouble-making at best and ‘communist’ at the basement level.

The interesting thing about boomer dogma is that the post-work self is a natural extension- even an embellishment- of previous versions that relate to one’s youth and adulthood. In other words, many crocks peg their retirement glories and ‘freedom’ to previous decades of dedication, hard work and perseverance. They’ve hit pay dirt and it’s because of the qualities mentioned. They deserve their place in the sun. While Boomertown may not always be a five star bed and breakfast, it’s definitely cool to be there and you must have a key.

The problem associated with this adoration of a boiler heaven-on-earth and the manufactured images of freedom and devil-may-care abandon is simply that they don’t exist. In reality, as one ages those worlds of wonder, exploration, understanding etc. etc. contract and become far less accessible to the burgeoning old farts’ subgroup.

Benjamin Disraeli (hardly a commie by any reckoning) recognised the silliness almost two centuries ago when he surmised-

Youth is a blunder, Manhood a struggle, Old Age a regret.

A counterweight is just what the doctor ordered when considering the contentment and positivity that many boomers push. The mirage of excitement floods their posts and status updates in the social media worlds and one could be forgiven for believing that geriatric Christendom is the place to be in 2019. But the postings and propaganda are bullshit. Boomertown is not so much a place but an aspiration….and a pretty unlikely one at that.

Part of the codger’s predicament is that he or she now has a lot of time on their hands. The invention of a parallel ‘life’, with subsequent publicity and wheel-spinning, certainly does fill in a few vacant hours. Subjects like fabricated attractiveness, role model positioning and even guru posturing all become intertwined in the fairy stories that fill up the hard drives and slow down the operation of our devices of choice. A portrait or selfie carefully placed on the screen garners instant reactions from the proletariat in the media’s echo chambers. The fact that these images usually resemble dump trucks in both specifications and appearance hardly registers with anyone other than disinterested spectators. The current fad for the #10yearchallenge only reinforces this narcissistic insanity.

The older I grow, the more I distrust the familiar doctrine that age brings wisdom. (H. L. Mencken)

Mencken’s assertion is probably closer to the truth than many boomers would admit. The realities of this ‘new age’ incorporate changing family responsibilities, child-minding, increasing health issues and care for older relatives. You don’t see or hear about this stuff but it’s the mortar of the post-work experience. The older punter’s capacity to accommodate these changes is regularly compromised and if wisdom is required, it’s in bloody short supply.

I was talking with my equally retired spouse the other day and disclosed my desire to spend more time catching up on pivotal literature from the 19th and 20th centuries now that the abyss was within view. For instance, a re-reading of The Great Gatsby through mature eyes and even finally finishing off In Cold Blood might both serve as valuable first base targets. Her response was swift and clinical…

You sound like an old man.

What’s more, that bastard no-hoper Albert Einstein backs her up.

Reading, after a certain age, diverts the mind too much from its creative pursuits. Any man who reads too much and uses his own brain too little falls into lazy habits of thinking.

To me, the constraints of retirement, old age or the post-work world are just as significant as the positive barrel rolling that is constantly referenced in Boomertown. If the sexy sixty-plus purveyors regard their lot as an isotope of ‘happiness’, then perhaps those eyes, ears and brains require testing.