By Gary Geyer
I imagine I meet all the qualifications to be called, “old”.
But nobody ever calls me that.
Thank heavens there are euphemisms.
Consider my history.
I started out as a “war baby” and joined millions of other “baby boomers.” When I was a kid we were cutely referred to as the “youngsters.”
As a teen, I was a “rock n’ roller.”
By the time I started college I went from “ivy leaguer” to “beatnik”.
I was one of the “long-hairs”.
I went on to be a “hippie”, a “yippie” and a “yuppie.” (Happily, I never qualified to be a “preppie.”).To complicate the matter, during those protest years I was labeled a “peacenik.”
And if you must know, although I never inhaled and if you tell my parents or my children I will deny it, I was an occasional “stoner.” How could I not be? After all, I was part of the “Woodstock generation” right before I joined the “me generation”. I probably was, but I’d never admit it, part of the “Pepsi generation” as well.
I’m not sure if I was “gen X” or “Y” or neither. (I may have been on the cusp)
Here’s where the euphemisms really start.
Now I find my self part of the “50 plus crowd” and once again a “baby boomer” –or, as we are now referred to, just plain “boomers.” I guess I’ll have to accept it but I definitely won’t like it, I will soon be a “senior citizen.”
Now don’t get me wrong, “senior citizens” or “seniors” are okay-at least it’s fairly neutral. (Or is it?) Even “retirees” is not so bad. (To be honest, they all those names give me the willies).
It’s those disparaging euphemisms I dread.
Somewhere along the way, I’m not sure when, the words turned nasty (I blame those young “whipper-snappers”).
Alright-are you ready? Here’s what we have to look forward to:
“Gerry”-you know, for geriatric.
Or “fogey” (which actually comes from “fogy” and means “veteran”)
Will I ever be called a “geezer?” God, I hope not. (Are women “geezerettes”?)
Probably,” oldster” is alright, but I’m not sure. After all, if we didn’t object to “youngster” they’ll say we don’t have a leg to stand on.
“Old guard” sounds interesting. A little civil-war-like. “CHARGE!”
What about “coot?” Disgusting!
“Fuddy-duddy” probably comes from Elmer Fudd-or vice versa. If it didn’t, it should have.
“Fossil” and “dinosaur” seem cut from the same cloth and therefore redundant, unimaginative and boring.
And don’t forget the classics-”blue hair” and “cotton top”
Oh, and those “Madison Avenue types” refer to everyone over 50 as the “mature market”. Sounds X-rated to me.
Wait ‘til you hear this one.
The term “trolls” is used for older gay people who frequent gay bars called “wrinkle rooms.”
At last-the time of life we‘ve been waiting for.
Sit us down, and wheel us away. I know you’re looking forward to being referred to as “golden-agers,” “older Americans” and my favorite, “young at hearts” Can’t you just puke?
Why fight it?
I guess it’s normal for the new generation to coin names (or fall back on the old tried and true) for the generation that is being bumped, against their will, to the next generation. I suppose as long as the terms stay slang, we’re okay. It’s when they becomes part of the everyday accepted vocabulary is when we should start to complain.
After all, anything is better than “old fart.”
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