By simply looking at my birth date (1949), I know I'm old by most people's standards. And, by looking in the mirror (horrors), I am greeted with sagging, spotted skin, and gray hair that refuses to surrender to a curl!
Yesterday, in the mail, I received a packet of offers from various companies. I was sent a postcard for, among other things: a "fashionable" walking cane; a "I'm Home Alone" necklace; hearing aids; a step-in bath; bladder control products; a better catheter (really?); and finally a stairlift.
Was there a bulletin sent out to corporations that I was indeed old and that I might need one or two specialized products? The only one that I would remotely consider is the step-in bath, since getting in and out of the tub requires a great deal of maneuvering and water splashing onto the floor! Trust me, it's not a pretty picture, so I don't bother with the tub any longer.
Perhaps when my parents were my age, the world seemed to be changing faster than they could understand. I know it's true for me. I am not "hip" with the music, the ever increasing changes in technology (that's a biggie) and current fashions.
Companies cater to the young, but I think they have their thinking hats screwed on backwards. Boomers, and there are a lot of us, have money to spend and yet we are passed by. Television shows are generally geared to a much younger crowd, clothes certainly are and most of us can live without twitter and instagram. Most people, including us oldies are connected at the hip to their cellphone. I think my cellphone is in a basket in the kitchen, with an uncharged battery. I wouldn't drive and talk, and my friends know that while I think of them often, just don't make calls. It's who I am.
I don't believe the world is passing me by. Rather, I allow the world to do so. I still know how to use a computer and can type like the wind. But, operating the DVD player, is a different ballgame altogether!
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