The Cool Generation

I have two brothers and two sisters. We are each happily married for over forty years. (Our youngest brother passed in his sleep a few years ago.)

We use the Signal app to keep in touch. Recently, one brother posted an old picture of himself teaching his brother-in-law to ride a motorcycle. Pure 1970s! He added a caption: “I used to be cool.”

Gotta admit, I loved the photo but not the comment. We are aging in an ageist culture. The prevailing mindset considers us past our useful years, that our fun or meaningful times are behind us. And it’s way too easy for us to accept rather than confront that prejudice. But if we don’t, who will?

I suggested that he change the caption from “I used to be cool,” to “We’ve always been cool.” Our generation has always done – and continues to do – amazing things. My brothers and brothers-in-law served as missionaries and military chaplain in Africa, Russia, Spain, Thailand, and at sea. Among the ten of us there are three teachers, two nurses, a librarian, nuclear power plant engineer, church organist, a parttime school bus driver…

Well, okay, not everything we’ve done is all that cool.

We studied the Liberal Arts – a tremendous blessing that’s become difficult to pursue today. Among us we’ve earned six masters degrees, a PhD, and numerous professional certifications.

We are world travelers. Artists and musicians. Several excellent fishermen. And one lousy one who keeps trying anyway. That would be me.

Now, in ways too numerous to count, our retirement years are as vibrant and “cool” as any other time in our lives.

So a few days later, I posted a mini-essay pointing out a few of those amazing life experiences. Here’s what I wrote. I hope it sparks thoughts of your own reasons for pride and satisfaction.

We are the generation that came of age in the Age of Aquarius. We danced at First Avenue before the world knew Prince. We rode and repaired motorcycles. Wore miniskirts and bell bottoms and our hair down to our shoulders. Watched members of Congress pick our draft numbers on live TV. Rocked with the Monkees every Monday and Batman on Wednesdays. Nearly wore out the Beatles’ White Album. We watched our classmates head to Vietnam and a president resign in disgrace. We spoke to an operator to make long distance calls. Made those calls at night to keep the cost down. We witnessed Armstrong walk on the moon and the Challenger disintegrate.

We sang in choirs and played in pep band. Learned the piano and guitar and how to handle a stick shift. Ran hurdles at the state track meet. We’ve created jewelry, thrown pottery, led thousands in song, preached to presidents and kings, and quietly counseled homesick sailors standing watch at midnight in the middle of the Mediterranean. Delivered medicine and babies in tribal Africa. Taught and cared for children in schools and Bible camps. Kept our children safe in Thailand, Spain, Togo, Côte d’Ivoire, Russia. Showed them how to be resilient, to hate injustice, to pray.

We are travelers. We paint, restore violins, rebuild airplanes, weave thread and yarn into works of shimmering beauty. Jazz piano. J S Bach. Blues harmonica. We frequent wineries and small venues. We visit the national parks and presidential libraries, build bonfires, bake bread and make pies so delicious that friends literally applaud. Know how to take a proper sauna. Help raise our grandkids.

We fish. Kayak. Lift weights. Spend time together. Care for each other. Pray for each other.

We are – and have always been – pretty darn cool.