March 9, 2007 - CAMP Talk

LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth

CAMP Talk

I have a new favorite T-shirt, though I'm not sure I'm secure enough to wear it in public, being a guy who still dyes my goatee and smiles whenever younger people in my presence talk about old farts as if I am not one of them. The shirt has a one-liner that pretty much sums up the way I feel this month: "O to 60 in no time flat."

Yes, by the time you read this, I will have joined the first group of Baby Boomers to make the leapalmost directly, it seemsfrom founding member of the oh-so-promising peace-and-love youth generation to sexagenarian. I can't honestly say that I'm in a mood to celebrate the occasiondespite the encouraging words of well-meaning souls who remind me that "getting older is better than the alternative" or "it's an accomplishment you should be proud of."

Sure, aging is better than the other option, but rather than seeing the start of my seventh decade as a reason for pride, I have decided to view it as a time to reflect on the reasons I should become more humble. Many of us go through some serious introspection at this point in life, and I realize I'm not alone as I weigh my past accomplishments against my many failings and attempt to set priorities for whatever time remains of me on this planet.

The odds makers are encouraging that I still may have quite awhile to fulfill whatever goals I set for myself. After all, "60 is the new 50" and "50 is the new 40." I can't help but wondering if that makes 20 the new 10? From the level of maturity I've encountered among 20-year-olds lately, I'd say that's about right.

But there I go again, saying something typically cynical at a time I'm trying to appreciate humility. Part of my quest is an acknowledgement of personal failings, but another part has to do with what I believe to be the failures of my generation.

As to the former, I might note that I have never been religiousat least not since I rejected the bulk of my childhood Roman Catholicism (or it rejected me as a gay human being). Still, preparing to turn 60 has presented an opportunity to reflect on how my personal behaviors have too often been at odds with the humanistic values I espouse. I am hoping to accomplish this without turning to organized religion as a crutch against the twin fears of death and what becomes of us afterwards. I have, however, spent considerable time in recent months reading up on Buddhism (in its countless variations) and surveying other philosophies. At this point in my research, I'd say my core values both intellectually and spiritually are most closely aligned with the Unitarian Universalists, who may be the least dogmatic, most open-minded churchgoers on the planet.

But even most Unitarians believe that we should apologize to those we've hurt by falling short of the standards of conduct of our personal ethics system (behaviors that many other religions would describe as sins). In the imaginative television series "My Name is Earl," the title character makes a long list of the people with whom he needs to perform a karmic correction andone by oneseeks them out and evens the score. It's a wonderful concept. Problem is, when I make even a Cliff's Notes-style survey of my life, my catalogue of offenses is so longand the people affected so far scattered (including many whose names and whereabouts are no longer available to me)that I have no way of reaching most of them personally. So, if you are among those I have hurt or offended (other than by way of opinions stated in my writings), I send this column off into the infinity of cyberspace with my earnest apologies to youand an offer to talk about it via email, in person or in any way or place possible.

Meanwhile, I will attempt to strive harder to live up to the principles of individual human dignity I profess to believe in though I still may have to slap the young man at a recent card party who, after trying to sell me on his new porn video, expressed his repulsion that another member of the party wanted to watch it; "he's like 60; I don't like the idea of old dudes looking at me."

Okay, take a deep breath and count to ten...

The second aspect of my reflections on becoming an "old dude" involves the once-promising generation of which I am a member. When it comes to achievements in social change, our record is less than laudable. Sure, we progressive Boomers have often been stymied by intense political opposition. And, yes, we can take credit for having had a measurable impact in some areas, notably civil rights, including women's and gay rights. But back in my social-activist youth, I was also hopeful that we would leave behind a world safer from wars and human-rights violationsand that we would put our planet back on the path to environmental healing.

Instead, the evidence is piling up that we have been more talk than actionand that our collective hedonism has taken precedence over our causes. One recent study showed that self-identified liberals give a much lower percentage of their incomes to charity than conservatives. And a report by the Harvard School of Public Health and the MetLife Foundation states that, compared to our parents' generation, Boomers have done less in "every measure of civic engagement," including voting and community service.

Those are disturbing findingsand it is an indication that our youthful cries of "drugs, sex and rock & roll" became more influential in our lives than our chants of "What the World Needs Now is Love" and "Give Peace a Chance." Not that the generations behind us are any less self-centered. In fact, the latest statistics by researchers at San Diego State University say that today's students are the most "narcissistic" since they begin studying the subject in the early 1980s (more than two-thirds now exceed the standard). And narcissism tends to provoke in us such anti-social behaviors as dishonesty, as well as controlling and violent behavior.

Rather dispirited about all of the above, I decided to find out whether Gail Sheehy who penned "Passages," the phenomenally successful 1976 book about the stages of aging, has written anything about the problems of being a Boomer now that she, too, has entered her seventh decade. Indeed, she hasand her words are encouraging.

Don't give up on us yet as we move into what Sheehy terms the "Second Adulthood." Although she concurs with the Harvard study that we have not yet lived up to our potential, she writes in an article for Parade Magazine, "Added years of life give Boomers another chance to create a social legacy of profound importance...in appreciation for the cornucopia of opportunities they have been able to enjoy in our open society."

Sheehy explains that "the search for meaning in whatever we do becomes the universal preoccupation of the Second Adulthood. It is rooted in a spiritual imperative that grows stronger as we grow older.... A hunger wells up for a greater depth of meaning and value in the activities of our everyday lives....Some people are moved to make a spiritual quest. Others do not relate this hunger to any religious belief but feel the need to stretch beyond self and even relationships, reaching toward a deeper appreciation of a collective intelligence working."

Perhaps appreciating the importance of this search is the true wisdom that comes with age. Not that it means we need to take every minute of life seriously. In fact, most scientific evidence points to the fact that the more we laugh, sing and appreciate each day we have on earth, the longer we're likely to stay herewhich gives us more time to improve our relationships with one another.

Toward that goal, the evening before my 60th birthday I'm going to indulge my hedonism by taking in a concert by The Who. Yes, good old Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey, grandfathers of the British pop invasion and creators of such anthems of my Boomer youth as "M-M-My Generation," "Behind Blue Eyes" and (still my favorite screaming rock & roll hymn of all time) "We Won't Be Fooled Again!"

As I jubilantly sing along with that final song much the way I did nearly four decades ago, I'll also be praying that we've still got time to get it right.

Bill Sievert, a former Rehoboth resident, is editor of PULSE, an alternative magazine in Central Florida. He can be reached at billsievert@earthlink.net.

LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 17, No. 2 March 9, 2007