Source – https://www.wenatcheeworld.com/
Baby Boomers grew up swept along in the current of free speech, civil rights and anti-war movements.
A rallying cry was, “Don’t trust anybody over 30.”
Today, with the COVID-19 pandemic giving even Santa Claus pause, a new slogan is emerging: “Never trust anyone under 55.”
Most of us 55 and older have reasons for our distrust and not just because we heard a youngish person say, “But it’s mostly the old and people with other problems who are dying.”
We are not living in fear. Still, we have a healthy respect for the virus and the devastation it is causing and we want to avoid costly medical misadventures.
After all, some of us are walking, pre-existing-condition time bombs. We’ve gone from being healthy as a pony to not going anywhere without our health insurance card. We have a long list of symptoms, from bad backs and weak hearts to achy knees and wheezy lungs — just ask us if you have several hours to spare.
Having underlying health issues makes us more vulnerable to severe symptoms, even death, if we catch COVID-19. Every sneeze is cringe-worthy. We have become aging hippy-chondriacs.
So most of us are careful to mask up, keep a social distance and wash the fingerprints off our hands.
Others of us — age immaterial — treat the pandemic as a political football to be punted around in the mud at family gatherings.
Now we’re even looking at Santa Claus with a skeptical eye — unless the grand old philanthropist is wearing a face shield.
The truth is, “Never trust anyone over 30” and “Never trust anyone under 55” are both pure silliness. We should take people one at a time, regardless of age, sex, color, political party, religion or lack thereof.
People of any age can earn our trust: family members, friends, scientists, nurses and doctors. Even whole countries — hello, Switzerland — are known to be trustworthy. Actor Tom Hanks (according to a Reader’s Digest poll, the most trustworthy man in America) tops the list.
Those of us who have survived to 55, and beyond, may be skeptical of polls, but we have learned discipline over years of painful experience. That discipline tells us sacrifice now for rewards later. We’ll give up one ball game this year to go to 10 later.
Such sacrifice builds character.
Our parents built character by splitting enough wood to build a 10-foot-high fence along the Mexican border. They walked uphill to school, both ways, in snow up to the ear holes, with feet wrapped in barbed wire for traction, even if they grew up in Los Angeles. They lived through the Great Depression, although most called it fair to middling.
We Baby Boomers built character by listening to eight-track tapes, riding in Volkswagen buses and spraying Aquanet on our big hair. We walked 15 feet through ankle-deep shag carpet to change a TV channel. We got by watching three black and white TV stations on a 10-inch screen that looked big if we sat close.
We played with Lawn Darts and had a cat that clawed our waterbed at 3 a.m., causing a geyser.
Having built character, we want to be around as aunts, uncles, husbands, wives, friends, community members, pet lovers and neighbors for when COVID-19 is in the rear-view mirror and we can again attend ball games, graduations and weddings.
Getting older, after all, beats the alternative. Some people don’t get to experience arthritis, bursitis and gingivitus. Some people don’t get to turn down the stereo to see better.
Who can blame us for wanting to enjoy retirement. To say to ourself, not “I shouldn’t say that” to, “What the heck. Let’s see what happens,” then sit back and watch the fireworks.
That’s another thing. We want to see more fireworks. More rock concerts. More baseball games on sultry summer nights.
Who can blame us as we wait for the vaccine, if we give other people, no matter what age, ample social distance. Even Santa Claus.