Here’s a kicker – the baby-boomers are now the Old Age Pensioners (WTF!). I for one was gobsmacked when this particular penny dropped. I’ve been receiving money from the government for a few years and it’s only just occurred to me that I qualified for the windfall because I was old – because until the other morning it hadn’t occurred to me that I was.
I was driving home from having my hair cut (the salon at which I get coiffed is located in the middle of town, an area I try to avoid). I live in a smallish, resort-ish seaside town – when my family moved here over fifty years ago it was considered the sticks – these days it’s a high end retirement community. The center of town is where the old folks hang out and parking spots are always at a premium, finding a seat at a coffee shop is almost impossible and the clientele have all the time in the world to occupy them.
My hair has been white forever, it’s a family trait, so my reflection in the mirror at the salon rarely takes me by surprise. The mask wearing trend of the past eighteen months helps to hide other evidence of aging. I’ve been happily stuck in mid-life for more years than is legal, I had no clue old age was waiting for me at a four-way stop.
The sun was shining and I had a peek-a-boo view of the ocean as I waited my turn at the stop sign. I was feeling good, a breeze snaked through the open car windows and rushed through my freshly cut hair as I adjusted the arm of my sunglasses to fit beneath my hearing aides. The flicker of an orange flag on the side street caught my eye and I turned in time to see an old fart on one of those electric wheelchair-scooter things goose it.
I’m not sure if those electric wheelchair-scooter things are considered a vehicle or if a person needs a license to ride-drive one or if they’re supposed to be operated on the road or sidewalk but they are fairly common on both surfaces in the the center of town and the driver-riders of them seem to have varying credentials to drive-ride.
The old fart with the orange flag took the corner almost on two wheels – if an electric wheelchair-scooter thing could screech its tires this guy was burning rubber. Even at top speed it takes a minute or two for one of those vehicles to clear an intersection – I had lots of time to get a good look at the speed artist operating the machine. He was wearing jeans tucked into his blundstones and a short sleeved summer shirt. He was maskless and helmetless but rocking his aviators and fu Manchu. He was riding like he was on a Harley and looked vaguely familiar.
I graduated from a high school that has gone the way of so many things from the olden days – progress feeds on the past. I’m pretty sure that old fart and I had lockers in the same corridor back then. I searched my memory for his name but as so many other things it was lost to time as well. Ours was the generation of rock and roll, we dawned with the age of Aquarius, made love not war and changed the face of the planet. It was a slap in the face to realize we are now old timers, part of history, living in a retirement community and denial. We are the Old Age Pensioners – boom!