They Don't Know What to Do With Us

A couple of weeks ago I was sad to read Anna Quindlen's last column in Newsweek. She's making room for newer, younger columnists.

Many young professionals would appreciate it if we oldies would just go away.

In 1952 the average life expectancy of an American was 65.

Now 65 year olds are hogging all the best jobs, wearing the tight jeans and, in some cases starting whole new families.

More than a few people have questioned my referring to this wonderful man in my life as my boyfriend. After all, he hasn't been a boy for several decades. One reason I use it is because it's so silly to refer to ourselves as "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" that I find it fun. But what other term is there? A couple of times over dinner or whatnot people have offered alternatives but most were not appropriate and some hurt my feelings.

But I understand. For the first time in history I and my peers are traveling abroad to be Peace Corp Volunteers, building Habitat houses, working full time and (cringe) dating.

I visited my grandmother once when she was my age. I noticed she was wearing broken glasses and when I asked her why she told me that she was probably going to die soon so why get a new pair?

I don't wear glasses. I wear contacts - and I'm thinking about laser eye surgery so I won't need those.

It's a whole new time in history. We need to make room for all these new graduates but I'm still here and and have big plans for the future.

So does Anna Quindlen.


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