I know, with the certainty of an actuary, that my chances of surviving the drive from New York City to Philadelphia are nil to none.
If they're like us and they make New Year's resolutions at all, they make the usual fall-back types...the kinds of resolutions that, if you don't accomplish them, won't seriously damage your self-esteem.
Jews throughout history have devised clever ways to horn in on the Christmas holiday. They have, like Life in the Boomer Lane, married Christians. They have created their own traditions which usually involve going to the movies and/or eating Chinese food.
Boomers aren't any smarter, any more talented, any more caring, any more creative, any more superior in any way than any generation that came before or that will come after. The worst you can accuse us of is being full of ourselves, but where music is concerned, we might have to agree. But to single us out and to truly believe that with us gone, the country will turn into a kind of utopia is simply not true.
Shaped like my father by the American mythos that the past is something best left behind, I fled home as fast and as quickly as I could. But as Dickens so well knew, family ghosts have a way of haunting the present.
A site will compare my resume side-by-side with a half-dozen other candidates who went to better schools, worked at greater companies and possibly had better careers than I did. It's so depressing; I'd rather watch my own colonoscopy -- polyps and all -- again.
As I start to reflect on the previous 11 months, I've been thinking about how my role as a caregiver has changed this year and how it has changed even more during the past several years.
There's always something that rudely awakens us to the reality of age. The blank stare of the thirty-something at the office when I mentioned 'fiddling while Rome burns.' The moment I hesitated to use the words 'pay phone' to describe a telecom job on my resume. Or simply that slightly panicky feeling I've felt when I've left home without even a tiny tube of concealer in my makeup bag.
During a rowdy holiday time family dinner this year, a generational divide was made visible. A relative, my parents' age asked: So I get Facebook, but I don't really get Twitter? Am I missing anything by not being on it and all the other ones?
I'm approaching a point where my kids are almost grown and I have a whole new blank chapter to write. Where will I go? What will I do? Who will I become? I could really do anything. Or be anyone. Do I want warm? Water? Country? City? Do I want to start a new adventure or a new career or business?
Tom Brokaw once wrote a book about the greatest generation, those brave people who survived the depression and fought in World War II. Unfortunately that great generation spawned a generation of narcissists: the baby boomers.
Generations X and Y have been taught to explore the world with just a few keystrokes, yet we value real-world interaction. We can order anything we want online, but we place a renewed value on shaking the hand of the people who grow the food, create the art and build the businesses.
Chances are if you're a regular Huffington Post Over-Fifty reader you're already keeping a close eye on your cheese, especially if you're still working for a living.
The only thing more frustrating than the media's refusal to cover America's retirement crisis is that the trade group for the mutual funds who manage 401(k) assets continues to insist that the crisis doesn't exist.
The bottom line is that we are in danger of losing the only sacred space we have had that doesn't allow cell phone use. Pandora's box has been opened. One wonders if, when people come to expect full communication during air travel, they will be willing to exit the plane in an attempt to improve reception.
It can be particularly difficult to find appropriate (and appreciated!) gifts for our older relatives, friends or clients. So what's the secret to success when shopping for the senior in your life? Do you go with practical or fun? High-tech or low-tech?