The age of millennials

The movers and shakers in the world of sales and consumption now aim most, if not all, of their heavy advertising, political pandering and entertainment events at the new ultra-important consumers: the millennials. This means those born after 1980; you know, the ones we refer to as kids. The members of the next group in importance are those up to retirement age. The final and least important contingent is, guess who … us.

We are irrelevant except when we are the target for erectile dysfunction, denture and adult diaper ads all featuring “senior” actors with suspiciously youthful faces and helmets of perfectly coifed gray hair.

Our invisibility is particularly evident when we try to find movies, TV programs and music which we can relate to, thus we grudgingly concur that seniors don’t contribute much to today’s lifestyle.

There are occasional welcomed exceptions such as the popularity of Betty White and the recent surprise success of the retiree oriented film The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. Likewise, the political world now pays attention to the voting power of the 5 million AARP members.

No other senior group has that strong a membership, but that is no reason to give up our voice and do nothing. With our knowledge, experience and contacts we can do more than we are given credit for. We must make known our feelings through our phone, Internet and letters to those in power, especially our congress persons. Believe it or not, they do pay attention, especially if they hear from more than one person about a topic.

True, the millennials are the target and the powers-that-be will ignore us if we let them, but if you really care about an issue, work for it. You may be surprised at the result.

A week in Maine

I just returned from my yearly relative hop around my home state of Maine. As usual the trip renewed my love and appreciation for the vast, endless stretches of greenery everywhere. I also loved seeing the striking difference between houses in the San Diego area and those of New England with the clapboard siding, widow’s walks, towers, bay windows and porches of the many Queen Anne gems, grass lawns with not a cactus or pebbled front yard in sight and a northerner’s notice of storm windows left on for the summer by the lazy homeowners.

Good also to hear people pronouncing car, lobster and Harvard correctly (cah, lobsta and Hahvid).

As for the clothes, wherever we looked we saw khakis or jeans and sweat shirts on both men and women with the obligatory Red Sox baseball caps. Colorful shorts, shirts and sandals instantly signaled “tourist” and men with brightly patterned neckerchiefs and/or ankle bracelets and women with crewcuts or mohawks quickly identified “family.” I saw only two men in the business district in suits and ties. Republican lawyers I guessed.

The high caloric diet was evident with many a triple XL guy choosing a restaurant table rather than trying to squeeze into a booth. Rotund, Rubenesque beauties accompanied them with an offspring or three; leading to wild imagining as to how they were produced.

Much was unchanged, but it was a shock to see a new building taking the place of … of … heck, once it is gone, I can’t remember what was there. Seniors are used to these memory lapses and we learn to live with them. Millennials may not understand yet. They will.