Boom
 

Sometimes I think people equate being a Boomer with a youth that embraced a muddy Woodstock meltdown and communal flings and ended with photos of one's self as a flower child, poised between Nirvana and the munchies. So handy to put all Boomers in one basket.

Not
Most Boomers I know grew up under the watchful eye of the stern and Silent Majority. No Woodstock. No commune. No flower child frocks. No Nirvana, narcotic or otherwise.  And no out loud, blatant anti-war protests. No, sirree. So, who are we!

Life has been a numbers game for Boomers
Just too many babies born at once. Too few desks for us in schools. Too few after-school, part-time jobs. Too few decent jobs after graduation. Too few slots at college. Too few affordable houses when we wed. Always competition for these prizes. Today, there aren't even enough cemetery plots to go around.

Life has been of questionable duration
As children of the 1950s during the Cold War, we became practiced at diving under school desks during air raid drills. Our faith in the desk prevailed, or we feared annihilation before the age of 18.

Fear didn't stop there. Early on, we faced sweltering summers when the prospect of catching polio kept public pools closed. Some did get polio and lived altered lives. At the shore, we got sunburned too often and spent nights under a coating of Noxzema or Calamine lotion, only to learn we may have sealed a potentially terrible fate for years to come.

Life has been filtered by the blue light of the Silent Majority
Brooding fathers who never acknowledged the wounds of post-traumatic stress after World War II and the Korean War simply had nothing to say to us as they watched prize fights in front of the blue tube, took out the garbage, and dutifully footed our bills. Mothers bustled about to make up for the silence, folded the TV tables and polished their perfect homes.

Life has been a question of uniformity
In our youth, many Boomer girls I knew wore school dress uniforms (that we hiked above our knees once the dismissal bell rang). As certified preppies. we wore preppy outfits. (bras and shaved legs mandatory) Madras plaid skirts ruled. So did loafers and varsity sweaters. Today, Liz Claiborne and Ralph Lauren labels sell them still.

Music defined life
Most of us born after 1946 knew The Beatles were a once-in-a-lifetime music phenomena, no matter how much we danced to The Four Tops, The Temptations, Smokey Robinson, and The Supremes. A transistor radio was a ticket to paradise, a stereo and headset the best way to hear the piano's final reverberating note in "A Day in the Life."

Yes, Virginia, there really was discrimination against women
Young Boomer women endured the exasperation of having to justify the pursuit of a college education and of then settling for jobs where typing was mandatory and a week's pay was no way equal. Meanwhile, we skirted routine overt sexual advances in the workplace and hoped predators would simply grow old or move on. It was not funny.

Steep Stairway to Heaven
For the Pepsi Generation, the push to conform as ordered by the Silent Majority vied with the pull to self-actualize. Many Boomers married too young. We garden-hosed the kingdom of suburbia. In marriage Number 1, half of us stumbled badly and moved on. 

But life after divorce proved to be an economic disaster for ourselves and our children. For decades. Every economic downtown was a blow to a single parent. The division of property crushing, at best. And personal freedom was short-lived, given the demands of single parenthood and a sexual revolution over-shadowed by fear of AIDS and STD.

Your Mother Should Know
Caught between the rearing standards of pre-war motherhood and our postwar career aspirations, we were never in the right place. If at home raising children, we chafed at the uneven division of labor in the home and longed for our financial independence. If in the work force, we fretted over the whereabouts of our latch key kids.

 

 

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My Expressionist Phase   Pond 2                                


Reason to be grateful and not dead
On the plus side, most of us escaped the terrible experiences of war and Great Depression that preceded 1946. It cannot be overstated that most of our lives have been lived in a peaceful society - booming with promise, heady technology, labor-saving devices, historic space exploration, and medical advances that may keep many of us alive into our 90s.

Goodnight Saigon - Good morning, Bagdad
Those who were swept up in the Vietnam War represented a fraction of this Boomer wave. Far more found their way to deferments from service. And returning veterans faced more than zealous war protesters. As reported, at Veterans of Foreign War (VFW) posts, some faced scoffing vets from prior wars, who trivialized the average year spent in Nam compared to their years in Korea or a WWII theater, especially if there was no Purple Heart to quiet them down.

Today. the gulf between those who went to Vietnam and those who escaped the draft remains haunting. As vets age and need the care they were promised by the nation they served, they face a burdened system hardly able to care for the young men and women wounded in recent conflicts.

See You on the Dark Side of the Moon
We've felt the Big Chill for a long time. It would be nifty if our society didn't continue to gripe about our existence — all those Boomers — and now, all the Social Security money we will need.

Please note: Over the years, we put the money in the treasure chest. I officially started at the age of 16. I still contribute. We've made contributions and watched the chest being raided by callous administrations. It would be fitting if we did not end our lives as we began them — being just deemed too much by our own society.

Lest I forget: It's a trip
Boomers have covered more leisured miles on the planet than any prior generation. Our minds are full of the world's wonders. We've been handed more cause for joy than sorrow, faced greater opportunities than obstacles and may well profit from the medical advances and technology promising long and healthy lives. Our iPods brim with books, music, and blog commentary. It's even Boomers and their grandchildren who drive up web cams stocks. Imagine: a 60-year old and three-year old conspiring to meet on screen. You've just got to love it.

Reggie Morrisey (2009)

 

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