I’m a fall-apart Baby Boomer
April 30, 2007
One of the morning shows had a bit on how the Baby Boomers were starting to sleep in separate beds, and many new homes were being built with two master bedroom suites. I want one of those! With a hot tub, heated floor and a DVR-TV in the bathroom.
The thought occurred to me as I was planning my master bedroom suite palace that Baby Boomers are the decisive factor in marketing today.
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For instance, former sex symbols are now peddling Depends undergarments and senior reverse mortgages. Sally Field is touting Boniva and Cheryl Tiegs is discussing menopause. So far, Mick Jagger hasn’t recommended Viagra, but it’s probably just a matter of time.
My husband and I have quickly moved from desperate chagrin to numb resignation as aging has taken over our lives. We are both losing our brains - not our minds, our brains - and our keys, driver’s licenses, miscellaneous books, bills, the occasional car and whatever memory we had of recent events. It’s convenient in one way because we forget when we’re angry at each other.
I’ve lost the ability to distinguish faces. If someone looks at me and smiles in the grocery store, I ask them, “Do I look familiar to you?” Often the response is, “Yes, Arlene, I live next door to you.”
Oh, and there was that night at the movies when I left for a moment and came back and snuggled up to the wrong man for 10 minutes. That was special. I kept wondering why Bill was using such odd body language as I tried to fit myself under his arm. The really awful part is that Bill saw me do it, shrugged, and went on watching the movie, nonchalantly munching on Jordan almonds. He figured I just wanted to sit a little closer to the screen.
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Wouldn’t you just love to know what was going on in the mind of that guy when a strange woman cuddled up to him? I finally realized that something was different and turned to look into the laughing eyes of a total stranger. Sir, I salute your patience.
While all this falling apart is going on, I’m taking care of the world. I find myself often taking care of my grandchildren, while worrying about my adult children. I’m trying to tend to my aged mother, and watching my husband fall apart.
My husband has gotten hearing aids, glasses and a breathing machine in the last year alone. We don’t even want to get started on all the ways my body is falling apart. My hearing is so bad that I find myself faking it in conversation, just smiling and saying, “Oh bless your heart.”
Baby Boomers, like myself, need special consideration. We have so much to do with totally limited physical and mental resources that I don’t feel inclined to apologize one minute for that free cup of coffee I can get at Burger King. I will tell the bishop it’s medicinal.
Some things haven’t changed. We used to hide our candy and chips from our kids. Now we hide them from our grandkids. It’s not that we don’t love to give them treats, but Dyson has nothing on them when it comes to inhaling the food in our house. It’s a matter of survival to have some Cheetos in my drawer.
For now, I’m getting along without the master suite. Bill cannot bear my freight train snoring, so I get my own little room. I don’t have the hot tub, but I do have soft pillows and 400 count sheets - and a soft purple Teddy Bear
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