The Benefits of Being a Boomer-Geezer

Mack Hall

The Benefits of Being a Boomer-Geezer

Boomers don’t make very good geezers. After all, growing old was not part of the plan. But, hey, fellow Boomer-Geezers, life at our age is not about the vitamins or the expando-waist slacks; it’s about the perqs! No, not the Social Security we paid in; that’s already been looted for the sake of Iraqis who hate us and the Doctor Phil leisure class who also hate us. The rewards for being silver- or no-haired are less tangible than mere food, clothing, and shelter; the rewards are, like, y’know, spiritual, and, like, existential.

Following is a modest list of benefits derived from being the sort of people we used to dismiss as uncool:

People don’t ask you to help with the heavy lifting. Indeed, if you are carrying something young people are likely to come over to you and offer to help. The exception to this is any big-box store in Beaumont where, if you look as if you might need help with something, the employees flee as if their lives are being threatened.

If on a road trip you suggest that you might need to visit the euphemism soon, the driver locks up the brakes at the next gas station. No one wants to trifle with a geezer’s digestive system or urinary tract.

Senior citizens’ breakfast specials at the truck stop.

Wearing a coat and tie to church is permissible as one of those cute Old People things. Given the dress code this decade, an under-forty wearing a tie would probably be denied Communion.

Middle-aged people with grey hair call you “sir.” This is a much better deal than when you were 19 and considered it a good day if your drill instructor called you nothing worse than “*&^%ing plant life.”

Bucket lists are fashionable now: “100 Books to Read Before You Die,” “100 More Diets at Which to Fail Before You Die,” 100 Shopping Malls Selling the Same Made-in-China Junk to Visit Before You Die,” and so on. Well, I have a reverse bucket list, things I never have to do again. At the top of my No, No, and Heck No list is A Christmas Carol. Never again. There was never a child more annoying than Tiny Tim. I hope his little crutch breaks. Really.

Registering for military conscription – checked that off long ago.

Handing the keys to your grown-up child and enjoying the ride. This is more fun than you thought.

The History Channel is often the home movies of events you lived through.

No one expects you to stop whatever it is you’re doing and help fix a computer.

Although you gave up smoking years ago, your pulse races during old movies when the hero lights the heroine’s cigarette. And your pulse races because of the cigarette.

Velcro sneakers rock, dudes!

Jack Palance was right when he said that growing old is not for sissies. The adventure continues, though, and it’s still a challenge and it's still great fun. As Ed said on Northern Exposure, “You want to wake up every morning to see what happens next.”