Turning Fifty: The Big Five-O-M-G
A funny thing happened since I last posted to Reflections by G. I turned 50.
Considering the typical amount of introspection I engage in on any given day, for very little reason, I assumed reaching this milestone would prompt deep examination.
I’m still waiting.
As a true overthinker, I quickly shifted to begin exploring why I was not consumed by the fact that I was passing the half-century mark of life on this little marble we call Earth. There, at the edge of lunacy, I hit upon two wonderfully contrasting realizations.
I do not know what it means to be fifty and I’ve been fifty since at least the early 2000s.
I’ve spent the past 25 years being fifty
It is untrue to say that I’m an old soul. I never came by that level of natural serendipity. I did grow up with a deep appreciation of ‘old’ things.
Music, film, novels, world events – I ate it up with a vast appetite. I already knew who Duke Ellington was before K-Tel released Switched on Swing in 1982. I was doo wopping at 5, grooving by 7, and down with the music of social movements by 10.
The television I was raised on as a child belonged to another generation.
Leave It to Beaver (which I never liked), Happy Days, M*A*S*H, Laverne & Shirley. None of these were set in the present day. Eventually the sitcoms we could access started reflecting the 70s with WKRP, The Jeffersons, and Sanford & Son. But they never felt contemperaneous.
The books I read were from the 30s (Nancy Drew) through to the 60s (The Three Investigators). Rarely, if ever, did I read a contemporary book before I was a teenager.
Confession Corner: dear reader, I hereby admit that I have never read a single title from Judy Blume. Please direct me to the appropriate penance to correct this oversight.
As a kid, I knew more about the world events of the 50s & 60s than I did about current events of the late 70s/early 80s. Until age 10, since 1984 was The. Single. Best. Year. of. Pop. Culture. Ever. It is a hill I am willing to die on. Every generation has the year they feel stands out, but, in this case, it is quantifiable. It was a particularly notable time on the world stage as well.
Without realizing how impactful it would be, I carried this back catalogue of stories and references from decades before my actual life began. Eventually, via movie soundtracks, (Joe vs the Volcano, Dirty Dancing, The Big Sleep) some of my friends started to catch up.
I appreciate all the marvels my GenX upbringing gave me: independence, the ability to read (but not fold) road maps, Aqua Net, lawn darts and a healthy fear of the Columbia House selection of the month. Yet, I could always place them within the context of what came before.
I’ve noted before that we had movie rentals long before VHS. I knew young women used to iron their hair straight, with clothes irons, in the decades before mine had the crimper (with a flat iron option for when you took it too far). I already knew The Sound of Silence by heart when my 10th grade English teacher used it to explain…something. No idea what the lesson was that day, but I had a head start on my classmates’ comprehension of the lyrics.
My first five decades on the planet were spent with a backstory. Seemingly stretching the edges of my timeline to allow for more than fifty years of ‘memories’ to be stored and referenced, as though they were my own.
What does fifty look like?
This is where the whiplash occurs. Snapping me back to modern day. Understanding fifty catapults me from who I was first introduced to as representing fifty-year-old women: the ‘young’ Golden Girls - Dorothy / Rose / Blanche, Margaret Thatcher (ugh!) and Edith Bunker; to seeing who we are today, Pamela Anderson, Kamala Harris and Halle Berry.
My child-brain thought fifty was shorthand for old, irrelevant and decrepit. Fifty was the age of grandparents. It was symbolized by “Fixodent and forget it!”, heating pads and the lingering scent of Rub-A535. How could it not reflect people-of-a-certain-age?
After all, retail discounts for senior citizens kick in at 55.
May I share with you the absolute terror we retail-working-teens felt when someone who “looked” senior came to our register? We were encouraged to offer the discounts, but it was a scary prospect.
“Hello customer! We offer a 10% discount for all people aged 55 and up.
Why am I mentioning it? No reason, no reason at all.
Just something we say from time to time.
To people who may or may not, but definitely do look … old.”
It was a losing proposition all around. Don’t say anything? People complain about not getting their discount. Mention it and risk the wrath of a person aged 35 – 54 who is insulted by the implication that they have not aged well.
So, what does it mean to be fifty?
Medical appointments. If fifty were a meme, it is Oprah with her giveaways “You get a medical test! And YOU get a medical test!” All of a sudden, a single doctor’s appointment (shingles vax – don’t skip it kids) has a multiplier effect, turning into a series of bloodwork tests, a mammogram and some kind of colon test involving, well, poop.
Did my body’s warranty just expire?
It is the start of well-meaning, but utterly ridiculous comment of “you don’t look fifty”, which is somehow stated like a question and an accusation. The thing is, I do look fifty. As does every other person who is currently at the half-century mark. This is what it looks like. A group of people of the same age, with different experiences.
It means I am inherently uncool. The warmest of the uncool kids. I’m not a ‘Karen’ yet – I hope I never become one, but I definitely embrace not being young. I complain about how crappy movies look when not filmed on location. I sing along to the songs played at the grocery store. I think about how much better the variety of chocolate bars used to be.
My text books are a punchline. My early science texts were still divided over the existence of tectonic plates (they exist). Pluto was a planet. Then it wasn’t. Is it back in the band again? I cannot keep up with all the astronomy drama. #planetproblems
Being fifty, for me, means I continue to have references that are out of date with the youth. Only this time, it isn’t because of a deep appreciation for the generations before mine. It is my own, first-hand experience that is now dated.
Just this week, while listening to the Prof G markets podcast, I was brought to a standstill and audibly gasped when the producer, Ed, did not get Scott’s INXS reference. He had never even heard of INXS.
Related: I also swear at podcasts now.
Crossing the half-century mark, so far, feels like closing the loop on a first pass at my life. Which means I’m just barely a few weeks into the second go round. This time, I’m equipped with 50 years of references, memories and lessons learned, that are actually mine.
This time, I have only two goals.
Enjoy life and figure out what I want to be when I grow up.