Posted tagged ‘baby boomers’

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”

August 11, 2017

The early morning was cool. Gracie wanted out before six so out we went. It was quiet. My newspapers hadn’t yet been delivered. Gracie finished her business, and when we came back inside, both of us fell back to sleep.

The sky is gray for a while then the sun breaks though for a short time, but the grey clouds never quite disappear. The sun does. The humidity is returning today.

Next door is still noisy but not as much as yesterday. The digging has stopped. The rest of the neighborhood is quiet. Even the birds aren’t singing. I figure they feel as oppressed by the clouds as I do. It seems to be getting darker though rain is not in the forecast.

I haven’t anything to do today. My house is clean, the laundry isn’t worth washing, too few clothes, and I don’t need any groceries. I suppose I could clean things like the bookcases filled with stuff, but I figure that’s over the top and good for a winter’s day. The downstairs plants do need watering so I guess I’ve found something to do. Hurrah!

I’m seeing commercials for survival food good for 25 years. I’m going to pass.

Many of the commercials are aimed at my generation because we, the baby boomers, are a bulge on the population chart and are so much older now. Today I watched one for the stair climber. Reverse mortgage is Tom Selleck’s ad. Another one is for insurance to pay off all the bills left when you die. Local Cape ads tout retirement communities with all the amenities including a doctor on call. AARP is all over the dial, okay not the dial but the remote though it doesn’t matter, you get the idea. I chuckle at the commercials for Consumer Cellular. Every actor is older, my age older, as in the older woman who reminds us we had to go to the library to look up stuff. She uses her cell phone for a walk in a field with her friends, a GPS app I figure, and says we can learn new technology. I’m so glad to hear that!

“Old hippies don’t die, they just lie low until the laughter stops and their time comes round again.”

April 26, 2010

The day is rainy, just as predicted. The birds seem especially noisy this morning. I can hear their raucous calls through the closed windows. I suspect the blue jays are responsible for all the noise.

I need to score some weed, some Mary Jane, some grass. I’m late to the party. I read in the paper a while back how the use of illicit drugs among baby boomers 50-59 rose 63% from 2002 to 2005. People are rediscovering it, for its medicinal purposes of course. This morning I read an article entitled “Vroomer Boomers” which said the average age of motorcyclists is on the rise. After I finish here, I’m going through the boxes in my cellar to find my ponchos, my fringed shirts, head bands and beads. They can’t be far behind.

Today’s article reminded of my Wild One days, not my Easy Rider days as I missed that movie. In Ghana, I had a motorcycle. It was small, a Honda 90, and modest as we had to wear dresses all the time. I learned the gears and the brake when I bought the moto, as they called it in Ghana, and then rode it over 100 miles from Tamale to Bolga. It was exhilarating. I loved the road and the wind on my face. The bugs were not so welcome. I learned to be exhilarated without smiling. A few inhaled bugs and a choke or two taught me that lesson. I rode along singing out loud to pass the time. I figure a few villagers told stories later about the crazy batura on the moto. It took hours to get home though I went as fast as I dared. The road was a good one, paved all the way. It was called the road to Bolga and it went straight there so I never worried about getting lost. I stopped for a warm coke at a store along the road and to stretch my legs. When I got to the school gate, I honked so the gateman would let me in. He smiled a toothless grin and pointed to my bike. I smiled back and nodded.

I only had one injury from my motorcycle, a round burn on my lower leg. As I was standing and waiting for goats to pass, they turned and ran into me. I dropped the bike out of surprise and burned my leg on the exhaust pipe.

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