THE SONIC BOOMER
New Year’s resolutions! An apropos topic for my first column of 2024, and a topic in which I have absolutely no interest whatsoever.
Oh, I used to. I used to sit down with my trusty Bic pen and a legal pad and sketch out a plan for myself — a plan that would effectively take the lump of clay that I am and form it into a more perfect human being all within just 365 days (366, in a leap year).
I would reflect solemnly on all the ways I had disappointed friends, family and mankind in general, and resolve to become a better human being. I’d make promises. I’d strive to keep them. But here’s what happened — I got old. Not too old, just old enough for all my filters to break down and cause me to start saying what I really thought about any given situation.
In talking with my friends (some of whom have remained, despite my getting even lumpier through the years), I have found this to be a common experience. It starts on the day you receive your first Social Security payment. Having instantly been deemed worthless by society, your mindset shifts to “whatever,” and it’s a short leap from “whatever” to “I don’t give a let’s-say-darn.”
I’m not blaming Social Security. It was an excellent idea. Back in the day, our well-meaning and trusted government recognized that people were not going to choose saving over spending and chose to impose a forced savings program that would ensure that we had money to live on in our old age. The government did this so that the intersections of our great country would never be commandeered by homeless old people, begging for money. It worked beautifully. I haven’t seen one person out there who isn’t younger than I am.
But, after about one generation of effectiveness, our government decided it, too, would rather spend money than save it. Quickly squandering its own resources, it then turned a baleful eye toward the pile of money we had unwillingly entrusted to it. No longer well-meaning nor trusted, the government raised the age at which we could receive our own money, sluggishly allowed a pandemic to take out a swath of the more susceptible oldsters, and unabashedly re-branded the savings as some sort of “gift” when they legally (and grudgingly) were forced to pay it out as Baby Boomers aged into the program. (Who knew that would happen?! Totally unexpected!)
(Deep breath here, to calm myself.)
I digress, but not really.
When I was a productive member of society, I would watch my mouth. Saying what I felt might cause repercussions, might cost me my job! But now that I’m irrelevant and ineffective anyway, I just spout off to whomever will listen. And do I really want to correct this personality flaw?
I do not.
In fact, in 2024, I resolve to be more outspoken and annoying than ever — just like all the other old people.
Why? Just because I can.
