50-something Moms Blog

My Son Is Thirty! How Is That Possible?

Remember when you turned thirty!  It was momentous – huge.  Maybe you had a big party, or a small discrete one, but we all were aware what thirty meant.  People “our age” ran around yelling, “Never trust anyone over thirty!”  That was always stupid, of course.  But it doesn’t mean that thirty wasn’t tough.

Well, my baby turned 30 on this month – as a remarkable, independent, creative, funny and honorable man and has been away from home (across the country, actually) for a long time.  But he's still my only youngest child. 

It was a landmark for him, and he had a great day, I think, while I spent much of that day in a state of astonishing gratitude.

That face would be enough, right?  The amazing thing is that for every smile, grin, laugh, great story, amazing artwork, funny home-made Halloween costume (How many second-graders dress up as Agent Cooper from Twin Peaks, after all?) there are a hundred more.  He's a wealth of wonders.

So Many People We Remember: Senator Kennedy to Ellie Greenwich

One of my friends has created a twitter hashtag #summerofdeath because of the number of people we've lost since the weather got warm.  Think about it.  Ted Kennedy, of course, and Walter Cronkite, and 60 Minutes creator Don Hewitt.  New York Magazine published a list late in August declaring 2009 "officially" the summer of death.  Here's their list:

May: Dom DeLuise, Chuck Daly.
June: Ed McMahon, Ed Thomas, Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Billy Mays, David Carradine.*
July: Karl Malden, Steve McNair, Robert McNamara, Dash Snow, Walter Cronkite, Frank McCourt, Merce Cunningham, Gidget the Chihuahua.
August: John Hughes, Les Paul, Eunice Kennedy Shriver, Robert Novak, Don Hewitt.

There are a few of those you probably haven't heard of and many of them were quite old, which mutes the public reaction somewhat.  Of course, this list preceded the death of Senator Kennedy, and one other person of particular importance to me.

When our kids were little, we used to sing.  All the time.  And early on, many of the songs they loved were written by Ellie Greenwich. She was a tough cookie I think.  She was also one of the great song writers of her generation.  Ever heard Be My Baby? ("Bee my, bee my bay bee, my one and only baybee...")  Chapel of Love? ("Goin' to the Cha pull and we're gonna' get ma a a reed") River Deep, Mountain High ?("Do I love you my oh my, river deep, mountain high" that was Tina Turner.)  Ever hear of girl groups?  Then you've heard of Ellie Greenwich.  There's a reason she's in the Song Writers Hall of Fame.  She died August 26, the same day as Senator Kennedy, so I'm a little late, but I have a lot to thank her for.

When the Kids Grow Up: the Privilege of Parenting Grown-Ups

My London son posted this on his Facebook page.  It has been grey and rainy here in London but this is also very funny and I thought you'd like it:

In a surprise move J.K. Rowling announced a new Harry Potter book titled: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of a deathly summer. In the book Harry will team up with his new buddy Tintin to determine what the f**k happened to the summer in England. Ms. Rowling said the return of Harry was brought about in order to recoup some of the losses she suffered with Bernie Madoff. However the book is already drawing criticism...

Maybe if you don't come from a family of Harry Potter maniacs who are also news hounds it won't mean quite as much, but for us, it's a riot.  "And that", as Carrie Bradshaw used to say, "got me thinking."  How amazing are the joys of having adult children.  

Maybe Not Segregated Drinking Fountains, But Didn't They Stop the Whole Thing When We Were Kids

When I saw the story about the Philadelphia country club that threw out a group of African-American kids, I was devastated.  Thanks to EJ Graff, I found a link to local news video of the event - and children whose faces could have been on kids in Selma or Little Rock  forty years ago.  There were tears, and anger, and shame.  As I watched the video, I kept thinking "No.  Not now.  Not still."

Think about it.  These kids were in a summer program to keep them busy and productive.  The camp had paid the club in advance for once-a-week swim privileges.  Yet not only were they asked to leave, they were told not to return.  Their money was refunded.  According to one report, the club's president said "There was concern that a lot of kids would change the complexion … and the atmosphere of the club." (AP quoting local TV)

Remembering The Fantasticks and Jerry Orbach - and Moving Life Online

Way back in 2006, I wrote a post on my personal blog about The Fantasticks.  (You remember, don't you?)  Today, for reasons you don't want to know, I was reviewing much of my early work and tripped over this post.  It seems so appropriate to all of us, to the summer and, well, I just felt like passing it on.   Did this wonderful show do the same things to you?

OK - so I should be used to it by now.  I've been -- as I often say -- a walking demographic Baby Boomer as long as I can remember.  But on the morning after the re-opening of THE FANTASTICKS*  - which ran off-Broadway for 42 years, I read a piece about "adults 55+ adapting online."  Of course we are -- sooner or later whatever I'm doing becomes part of a generational wave.

Don't worry - there IS a connection.

Way back in 2006, I wrote a post on my personal blog about The Fantasticks.  (You remember, don't you?)  Today, for reasons you don't want to know, I was reviewing much of my early work and tripped over this post.  It seems so appropriate to all of us, to the summer and, well, I just felt like passing it on.   Did this wonderful show do the same things to you?

OK - so I should be used to it by now.  I've been -- as I often say -- a walking demographic Baby Boomer as long as I can remember.  But on the morning after the re-opening of THE FANTASTICKS*  - which ran off-Broadway for 42 years, I read a piece about "adults 55+ adapting online."  Of course we are -- sooner or later whatever I'm doing becomes part of a generational wave.

Don't worry - there IS a connection.

Loving the Millennials

A few weeks ago, here in Washington, I was on a conference panel with two women whose combined ages were less than mine.  They had invited me to join them to talk about women, technology and generational communication.  It was great.

Much has been made of the tensions between us "Fifty-Somethings" (and higher) and these younger folks and I think it's sad.  We're all worried about the economy, no matter how old we are.  But did you know that for many many young people their social security tax is far higher than their income taxes?  That they have grave doubts about their futures?  And assume none of the benefits due us (soon, for me) will have evaporated by the time they're in their 60's?  Can't blame them for being testy.

Remember when we were in our twenties?  We thought we could do whatever we wanted, and many of us did.  Some of these younger people will have that chance, sure, but many more will make their way with great difficulty.  All that was true before the crash.  Now it's much worse.

Hysterectomy Memories

I had a hysterectomy when I was close to 40.  I almost never think about it; it relieved decades of cramps and clots and leaks and misery, I I had two kids and knew we couldn't afford more if we stayed in Manhattan, and my doctor had made it clear that I had no choice - the cells looked like they might turn into something dangerous.  So why think of it today?  I stopped by BlogHer recently and landed on a post by mamaneena about her own surgery and her thoughts and prayers as she awaited anesthesia. 

Of course, it brought back memories of those days.  For some reason I was terrified that I'd never wake up from the anesthesia.  Not rational -- didn't matter.  I was afraid I would traumatize my sons.  And I did NOT want visitors, especially not the kids.  I didn't want them to see me weak and in pain and drugged. 

The afternoon before, we went out for a late lunch and then we checked me in.  My husband and the boys surprised me with a teddy bear in a sweater vest and bow tie.  They all solemnly hugged it so I would have their hugs with me as I waited.  And then I was alone in my room with my bear, sad and scared and worried.

Being a Baby Boomer Is Not a Bad Thing

An old friend called me the day after the Inaugural concert, to tell me she’d been reduced to tears as she watched the nearly 90-year-old  Pete Seeger, who, in addition to his later Civil Rights and anti-Vietnam War work, helped organize labor unions and came from Woody Guthrie’s generation, singing alongside Bruce Springsteen, who truly does speak for today’s blue collar Americans.  One took the old words of We Shall Overcome and Ecclesiastes and made them into anthems, and created two of the greatest kids’ songs ever:  Abiyoyo and Sam the Whaler.  The other, with Born in the USA, My Hometown and so many others, has given voice to so much.

As they stood together at the Lincoln Memorial in celebration of the Inauguration of Barack Obama, they represented, to me all that I had believed and tried to help bring into being.  To many, though, they were "the ultimate in subtly old-left populism."  Speaking about the concert early Sunday before it began, I kept talking about Bruce.  A younger friend gently suggested that he was probably not the day's headliner.  That would be Beyonce Knowles, she said.  And Beyonce was magnificent.  And lovely.  And young.

2008 and 1968 -- One More Time

Do you remember 1968?  I graduated from college that year; our reunion slogan was "1968: the Year that Changed the World."  I guess it did.  On my office wall is the poster from a photography show in Prague in 1998.  It included photos of demonstrations and events all over the world that year; activity was no way limited to the U.S. even though most of us tend to think of it that way.  I've spent much of this year chronicling parallels between 1968n and the present - all through very personal recollections.  Here are some of them.

Passing the Torch --Kind Of

Something's been stuck in my heart.  Postbama depression maybe.  Or reality setting in.  Or sadness that, after having spent so much of my life working in one way or another to make good things happen, and being flattened by the horror that (I believe) was the Bush years, I will be less involved than I have ever been before.  I've been a part of, or covered, every new administration since Nixon, after all.

From the beginning of this election I've said, and meant, that my early support for President-Elect Obama was based not only on his excellence, discipline and inclusive call to action, but also because I honestly believed - and believe - that it is time for a new generation of Americans to take the helm,  just as it was when John Kennedy was elected, when we anti-war and progressive "kids" worked (unsuccessfully) to advance the candidacy of Senator Eugene McCarthy and later, when boomer Bill Clinton took the helm.    It was how I felt when I wrote about Obama's Berlin speech, about the significance of the Obama convention speech and the remarkable fact that it occurred on the anniversary of Dr. King's famous 1963 speech, about what it was like to be young and devastated when Robert Kennedy was assassinated.  And now it's happened - and some less glorious feelings have joined the pride and sense that justice has been done.