Age is just a number; we deserve better

Old doesn't mean no longer useful

There are so many troubling things happening these days, not the least of which is my own advancing age.

Gone are the days when the wisdom of age meant something. 

There will be another presidential election next year. President Joe Biden has decided to run again. I am saddened that despite his successful tenure so far with a long list of accomplishments, there is little enthusiasm for his candidacy. I have great respect for the office of the presidency. I would expect the leader of our country--the same country that is supposed to honor freedom and democracy--to be supported on principal. President Biden is working to make life better for all Americans. His accomplishments are many, unlike the train-wreck that is the disgraced, twice-impeached, indicted, and allegedly criminal 45th President who claims to want to run again. He used the highest office in the land to enrich himself and his family, to make deals that would line his pockets. He worked only for himself and didn't care who he hurt along the way. 

It seems more often than not, that seniors are treated as inferior by the younger generations. American culture doesn't seem to revere its elderly as in other countries.

Maybe part of it is because the days of spinning tales around a fire to impress and entertain the kiddos with stories of long ago no longer happen much in today's families, my own included. It is rare to break bread during leisurely Sunday suppers or even holidays with the extended family gathered around a big table. So few of us live like the close-knit Reagan clan in the long-running TV drama, "Blue Bloods." Perhaps technology is to blame, as it has supplanted the ability to simply talk to one another and to air our differences. 

Since I have reached Medicare recipient status, I've noticed a kind of stigma surrounding my generation. I don't understand why the younger generation disrespects us "boomers," but I'm terrified that our entire country could hang in the balance over the issue of age.

I get why younger voters may prefer one of their own to occupy the White House, but that appears not to be an option, at least not this time. I assure you, your time is coming. Changes happen slowly however, over time. And timing is everything. The election for the next President will be crucial, and in fact dire. It would behoove everyone to realize how high the stakes are. A repeat of 2016-2020 would be a disaster of which we may not be able to drag ourselves out. We do not need a replay of some of the worst years this country has ever known.

I'm tired of hearing that Joe Biden is too old to seek the office he now holds. Don't we abhor discrimination? Isn't age a discrimination just like that of race, religion, gender, and sexual preference?

This election will be so very important, especially given Biden's apparent opponent. 

Biden has proven to be far superior to that lout who thinks cognitive ability is based on remembering five simple words an hour after he first recited and memorized them. Biden is a proven leader who has the ability to remember far more than five words. In fact, he remembers his days in the Senate, can recall his work as Vice President, remembers his visits with countless world leaders for whom he shares a mutual respect. He juggles the problems of our country and our world with relative ease because he is experienced at doing so. He has worked with the best our country has to offer. He has dealt with the world's worst. And he has done it all with grace, dignity, and good humor. He has the ability to continue on the path to which he began. No, he isn't perfect. I don't agree with everything he has done. No one could fit that bill. But, I am politically aware enough to know that Joe Biden is far superior to the former guy, who has no grace, no dignity, and no good humor. Biden is not afraid to change his mind. Nor is he afraid to fight for what he believes in.

Character, wisdom, and experience have to count for something. Age has nothing to do with it.

For whatever reason, Generations X, Y, and Z seem to have it in for us "boomers." They make jokes at our expense. They blame us for the shape of the world, the planet, and the country. Many have no respect at all for the life we've lived, the battles we've waged and won. You must remember that we were once your age. 

I can attest that during the early years of my own life, I was among many who tried to make the world a better place for the next generation. But that battle continues. There is always more work to be done.

Personally, I'm at a place in my life where I could care less if someone likes me or not. Of course, I prefer the former, but I can accept the latter. But to this end, as we head toward another election cycle, can't we get just a little bit excited? Can't we be a little more supportive? Joe Biden snatched this country out of the hands of a mad man who caused so much damage and would do it again.

I wish the news media, of which I generally hold in high regard, would put a stop to reporting Biden's age every time they mention his name. There are far more things to report about Biden than how old he is.

Seeing reality

I've just been jolted by reality and I'm not so sure I like it.

I realize that my childhood was a very long time ago. That isn't the kind of thought that pops into my head on a regular basis. The fact of my aging does, however, drift into my consciousness at times--mostly while I'm lying in bed awaiting the magic dust from Mr. Sandman.

While I am well aware of the little things that change as we age, my thoughts and the way I process them have evolved over time. The change has been so slow that my changes in thinking have barely been discernable. But now and then, there is a shock of realism that seemingly marks time. I just had one of those.

I'm not sure why, but I decided to look up the city on the internet where my grandparents lived. I don't know what I expected to see. But, I can assure you I didn't get it.

They lived in a tiny town in Michigan. I remember it only vaguely from my childhood. I remember the big farmhouse they lived in and the land around it. It had a big red barn and a somewhat dilapidated hay barn. If that barn was dilapidated fifty years ago, chances are it has been history for some time. I never gave that a thought. It is funny how our memory is stubborn--refusing to believe that what we remember no longer exists.

I was saddened to look at the website of this city. While my mind has conjured it up the way it was, possibly embelished just a little by my own fantasies, that just isn't the way it is any more.

It is just like any other small city, struggling to grow, pay its bills, and deal with mundane day-to-day activities. The city charter has little room for my fanciful ideals about black skies peppered with twinkling stars, the thrill of chasing elusive, dancing fireflies, or picking bouquets of wildflowers along a deserted country road. Seeing the pictures erased the romantic memories with unremarkable reality.

On second thought, this lesson in reality teaches me to be grateful, not for what has been lost, but in what remains. I have retained the ability to see through childlike eyes. Imagination is a gift. The beauty of age provides is that I can appreciate the comparison, which makes the gift all the more precious.