Splashed across the top of the tabloid in big bold letters was the headline, “BABY BOOMERS FACE ENERGY CRISIS!”
I didn’t take time to read the article but I did check the byline and that little thumbnail picture of the reporter. She was barely dry behind the ears and with a name like that you can bet her grandmother is the baby boomer; she’s sure not! Folks did not name their baby girl River O’Malley in my day. So Mr. Hot Shot Reporter, with no gray hair, no wrinkles, no varicose veins and not even a tiny bit of cellulite hanging on the back of your knees, what gave you the first clue that we’re facing an energy crisis?
Did you interview a hundred baby boomers to find out this shocking revelation or did some teenager’s MP3 player rap out a message in your ear letting you in on the shocking secret that those of us who are now over sixty are facing this big crisis?
I am a baby boomer. I’ve known for years that I’m facing an energy crisis so I doubt this is an article that is going to be nominated for the Pulitzer Prize.
Things I used to do all day now take me all day to do. There was a time I could clean house all day, whip out half a dozen pies and six dozen cookies while I did the laundry and then sometime around midnight, I might decide to sew up an outfit to wear to work the next day. And all without the help of kale and protein energy drinks or those high-powered vitamin pills.
Nowadays, I dust the coffee table and take a sweet tea break to regroup and think about how to spend the rest of my fast-failing energy. Should I vacuum or clean out the refrigerator…one thing for sure, I will not do both on the same day.
At one time I could plop down on the floor with the grace of a ballerina and get up without a single whimper. Now I can plop down on the floor with the grace of an inebriated elephant and get up with the help of a heavy duty fork lift.
My youngest granddaughter now grunts when she gets out of a chair because she thinks that’s the proper etiquette. After all I’m the grandmother who tells her to use her napkin not her shirt sleeve to wipe her mouth at the dinner table; to always cross her legs at the ankle and keep her skirt tail pulled down.
Used to be that I could stay out until the wee hours of the morning, catch a couple of hours of sleep, awake with the gusto of a hungry hound and jump into the new day. But lately my get up and go has done got up and went. I can still stay out until the wee hours of the morning but three days later I’m still whining.
So River O’Malley, don’t expect those of us who are genuine baby boomers to be shocked or even faintly amused by your headlines. We have fearlessly faced the energy crisis. We have come to terms with it and accepted it. It’s not “stop the presses” news, and honey, your time will come when you are facing the same crisis.