Open Post to My Boomer Buddies

On my travels this year I have spent quality time with many friends old and new, family too. I have observed what I believe is a silly and yet serious affliction among many of my friends, all of whom are charter members of the baby boomer generation. I admit I am a member of this club, so I am outing everyone including myself. The one and only trait we all share to qualify for membership is silence.

Silence about our health.

Why is everyone so reluctant to talk about the afflictions of the inevitable aging process? Yes, I know we have all, at one time or another, joked about family gatherings where the "olde folks" sit around and share their latest diagnosis. We aren't "that old" yet, are we?

Maybe this is a manifestation of the cult of individuality which we all grew up in. Perhaps it is just not wanting to inflict our decrepitude on our friends; but quite frankly it's also a potential killer. I may know something about your syndrome, symptom or affliction that you do not. We all run in different circles of health, education and treatment. But we can't share what we don't know exists.

So my friends, speak up. Talk to your friends, your loved ones, your physicians, healers, shamans, herbalist, medicine women, sorcerer, medico and/or witch doctor. If none of them are available, I am.

Please speak up. There are lots of adventures still to be had, stick around and share some of them with me.

---

Cartoon by Liza Donnelly in The New Yorker

Apogee in Atlantic City

This week my trip has reached its geographic apogee. I am the furthest I will be from where I began, whether I mark that beginning as Las Vegas or San Francisco. As a dear friend told me, I have begun the arc of return. While its still probably at least seven weeks until this chautauqua ends, I do feel a change in the pulse of my wandering. The hum has become a strum.

For one thing I saw a thermometer yesterday morning that read 19 degrees. That kind of weather I am joyfully leaving behind. There is a big storm moistening California preparing to move across the country. Everywhere I have been thus far is directly in the broad, white path of this first full-fledged winter assault. While I am not ready to run for Florida quite yet, I am going to head south by the end of the week as far as Virginia, but that should be southerly enough to dodge any drifts of white snow or patches of black ice.

The family phase of my journey has ended and now I will be imposing myself on old college friends and recent poker buddies. And yes, I am playing a bit of the old poke' myself. Today I demonstrated clearly that playing tournament poker is not like riding a bicycle. You actually do get rusty and can fall off causing injury to your wallet. Guess I should have tried the tournament with training wheels or perhaps the ladies bike without that damn ball busting middle strut.

Tomorrow a stroll on the Atlantic City boardwalk in what promises to be weather well above freezing and somewhat below Chamber of Commerce mild. Methinks the salt water taffy will be about as brittle as my last blind date.

----

Art Credit: Apogee from DeviantArt.com