I’m a fake.
A couple of years ago, desperate to get my name in print, I convinced a local baby boomers magazine to let me do an occasional column. I agreed to take out an expensive business ad in return, so I basically paid them. I was so excited about getting my drivel published that I didn’t think this through properly. That publication is for “people of a certain age,” and I’m not old. I’m young. I barely even qualify as a boomer – only in the most technical sense of the word.
If the baby boomer generation were a game of Crack the Whip, I would be the kid at the tail end of the line who gets whipped across the playground and ends up with their palms and knees bloodied.
The vast age difference between me and their readers was brought home a couple months ago. I did a column about the funky stuff going on in my body and a woman stopped me on the street to tell me how much she liked it. Naturally, I was flattered. Then she warbled, “I know exactly what you’re talking about, because I have the same problems. It’s nice to know we’re not alone” and she patted my hand. I couldn’t help but recoil in horror – this woman was at least 112 years old!
I thought, “Whoa, there, Grandma Moses, we can’t be going through the same body issues – I’m w-a-a-a-a-y younger than you. You look like the Crypt Keeper!” What with the surprise of the moment and all, I may have actually said that out loud. Don’t worry; her feelings weren’t hurt. She wasn’t wearing her ear trumpet so she didn’t hear a word I said.
It’s not that I have anything against old people. I will be delighted to be one…someday. In the far, far, distant future. But for now, I’m not.
In fact, I’m the youngest member of our social set. That’s merely a coincidence, of course. I don’t deliberately choose friends who are older to make myself seem younger by comparison. That would make me one of those pathetic people who feels the need to blow out someone else’s candle to make hers look brighter. Someone who is desperately clinging to Fleeting Youth though Cruel Age has her firmly in its relentless grasp. It is laughable to even suggest such a thing – ha ha!
If that were the case, I wouldn’t hang out with these people at all because, when I really stop and think about it, it occurs to me that although they are a few years older, all of my friends are smarter, funnier and better looking than I am.
So…..that’s good. I’m happy about that. Really happy.
But, you know, it’s easy to get in a rut when you hang around with the same people all the time. Sometimes you need to change things up to grow as a person. Maybe it’s time for me to find some new friends.
If you’re interested in adding a sparkling, younger member to your social circle, let’s get together. And if everyone else in the group is stupid, ugly and dull, I’m sure we’ll be the best of friends in no time.