THE WESTERNER: Cowgirl Sass & Savvy

Not old enough to be vintage

By Julie Carter

The front line of the baby boomer generation hit 65 years old last year and there are a few million more right behind them who are singing the tune "I'm not as good as I once was, but I'm as good once as I ever was."

Besides vitamins on monthly auto ship, the switch from acid rock to acid reflux, and the acceptance that instead of going to a new hip joint they will be receiving a new hip joint, reality is forced upon them by a young generation that seems to be everywhere.

Those 20-some-things ask questions that should get their head knocked off and say things that probably will.

They have no idea that the Rolling Stones are no relation to kidney stones or that Willie Nelson didn't always have a braid.

"Waylon who? Didja know Johnny Cash only wore black? Rad huh? When I listen to your music it makes me want to find some polyester to wear. Who was Wolfman Jack?”

Before you can get a word in edgewise to tell them Johnny Cash was not “goth”, they roll right into, “Okay, like when you were my age, it was embarrassing to wear clothes with rips in them? You didn't buy them like that?"

No, but I did rip out the neck and sleeves of my sweatshirts during the Flash Dance craze and added a twisted bandana headband to my curls. So there, take that!

"What are eight tracks? An album is what? So, did you guys, like dance, in high school?

So when you were a kid, did you, like, have any fun?”

“You had a pen pal? What exactly is a pen pal? So if you didn't have a cell phone, real phone, TV or electricity, how did you live?”

“Like, how old were you when you had a microwave?”

“Wadda-ya-mean no Victoria's Secret? Like where did you get your underwear? You sat in a car to watch a movie? Why?"

A friend just mentioned she spent the evening listening to “oldies music.” From the 1980s she added. And then she argued that items from the 1970s do not qualify as “vintage.” That made me feel so much better.

Weekend disco has become weekend Costco. Passing a driver’s test is now challenged only by passing the vision test.

The predominate color in my childhood photos was plaid and usually in corduroy. Anyone wear corduroy anymore?

We typed on typewriters that had ribbons and most were not yet electric. We had super-sized bell bottoms, platform shoes, pet rocks and were present at the very first "Earth Day."

We wore Yardley Slicker lip gloss, Heaven Scent perfume, halter tops, tube tops and mirrored sunglasses. Farrah Fawcett's winged hair style was all the rage.

Today we look for senior discounts, get AARP Magazine in the mail and hope we can last a few more years before the first knee replacement. We cover the gray, soften the lines, hide the lumps and wonder where our eyelashes went.

"I'm not as good as I once was, but I'm as good once as I ever was." As long as I get to pick when that once is.

Julie can be reached for comment at jcarternm@gmail.com.