A work of Fiction . . . for now.
I’m an old
man now, something that is becoming rarer and rarer in this country. I am what is called a “baby boomer”, one of
the most despised generations in recent history. It wasn’t always so. When I was born in the 1950s, I was part of
what was seen as a wonderful and hopeful phenomenon known as the baby
boom. We were part of a world of hope
and affluence after the poverty of the 1930s and the ravages of World War II. But that’s not true anymore. We are now the blight; the generation
everyone wants to see die, including some of us. As for me, I’m glad and lucky to be
alive. Glad because it is interesting to
watch this process and to be able to record it.
Lucky because I have had no significant illnesses that have required me
to try and get medical help. My wife,
Anne, wasn’t so lucky. I lost her to
what was normally described as a routine illness about eight years ago. Anne was only 60, but by that time, nobody
paid much attention to a sick 60 year old.
It all started about ten years ago,
I guess, about the time I turned 60.
Studies were produced that showed that we were going to bankrupt the
social security system and the health care system. At the same time, younger folk realised that
this large bubble of humanity ahead of them was slowing down their chances for
quick advancement in business and industry.
They had been brought up to expect instant gratification, and they had
no patience of anyone that stood in the way of that.
It might not have gone further
except for the condition of politics.
One party in the US
and one in Canada
had been out of power for too long in their estimation and to rectify that,
they discovered the constituency of the young. Interestingly enough, it was the
more liberal party in one country and the more conservative in another. But they both had the same idea that if they
could grab the imagination of the younger generation, the Gen X’ers and the Gen
Y’ers, and give them what they wanted, the young would come to roost in their
party and hopefully stay for a good long time.
It worked too.
The first to succumb was Canada. The opposition party had tried everything to
get in power, and finally succeeded in that year’s federal election thanks to
their seduction of the younger voters.
But, once in power, they discovered that their constituency wanted their
due, and they wanted action now. Instant
gratification again. These younger folk
could read the various reports and studies, and had a bunch of other gripes against
their elders to go along with them.
Among their other complaints were
that we had destroyed the environment (probably to build things that they
wanted); screwed up the world, particularly the Middle East; made “their” cities ugly; practiced discrimination against just about
everyone (a touch of irony here considering future events); caused terrorism
and wars (forgetting that wars had been
here long before me and my generation ever got here); and just about messing up
everything we had ever done (although they did seem to enjoy the computers and
internet which my generation invented).
When the election was over, my
friend George asked what it meant. I
said, “George, don’t you worry. This
election isn’t going to make any more difference that any of the others. The young ones will get a couple of
environmental laws to keep them happy, and our life will go on pretty much the
same.” Not one of my more brilliant
predictions. Old George was one of the
early victims of the new politics when they cut out the old age “security” and
reduced government pensions. George had
worked most of his life for the government without getting much above the
mediocre level so his pensions were about all he had.
In fact, the old age pension was
about the first to go. It was reasoned
that we all should have worked hard all of our life and saved enough for our
“golden” years through retirement savings plans and 401Ks and the like. So the small amount that folks got from their
pensions wouldn’t be missed, and besides, it would save the government all
kinds of money that could better be used for the new agenda. The pension went in the first budget that the
new government brought down. Cutbacks in
other government pensions came later when this new agenda needed even more
money than anyone thought.
It wasn’t all about money,
however. As the younger folks got into
the swing of things, it was noticed that more and more companies were
“retiring” workers at younger and younger ages.
“Not able to cope with new technology” became the standard phrase to
describe and justify this. Sixty became
the norm, and then fifty five. Some
companies then started to think that even fifty was too much. Then came health care. Oh, they didn’t take that away. They just started implementing a policy that
made treatment priority in order of age, youngest first. The reasoning was that children deserved good
health care so they would grow up and be healthy and productive. Then working age people had to be looked
after so that they could remain working and productive. Since everyone knew that old people were not
productive (particularly since most of them had been forcibly retired), why did
they need any priority in health care.
Also, everyone knew that they would bankrupt the system.
Then came the great constitutional
debate. After all, age discrimination
was supposed to be against the law. So a
debate raged with the “young” party pointing out that none of the new measures
said anything about age or prevented service to older people. The health care system was only setting
priorities to husband scarce resources, and what private industry did with its
people was their own business. So the courts upheld the new agenda. But just to make sure, an amendment was
pushed through on the constitution that removed age as a discrimination
factor. Got pretty quick approval,
too. This, of course, threw open the
doors for all kinds of new measures and practices.
So where were our sons and daughters
to look after their parents’ interests?
Well, they were the ones behind most of what happened. They justified this by pleading that, as
parents and grandparents, we must understand that their welfare and the welfare
of our grandkids must come first. And of
course, what parent could argue that. If
you asked the kids what they were going to do when they got older, most of them
hummed and hawed. But a few would come right out and tell you that when it was
their turn, they would reverse everything they had done, because by that time
they would have saved the country and could afford to be looked after
properly. I found this pretty brazen,
but I guess I couldn’t blame them. I
guess even the most committed of them probably recognized that there was
something not quite right and fair about what was going on. Anyway, said some of our kids, we’ll look
after you in your old age. But that
became more and more of a burden. My two
kids tried to help when Anne was alive, but after she passed, I’ve been pretty
much left on my own. Differences in our
outlook on modern politics keeps us apart physically and emotionally. I haven’t seen any of my grandkids for over
five years.
So what happened to us old
folks? Well some of them died
prematurely like my Anne from “deferred” health care. Others got stuck in poverty they never
planned for and couldn’t cope with.
Either disease or despair caught up with them. The result was about the same in either case
– premature death. From that point of
view, the new policies have worked.
There sure are a lot less baby boomers than there used to be. I’ve even heard a few - a very few - people
express some sympathy for those of us that remain. Not that they advocate any changes, mind you;
they just say something sympathetic.
In most ways, the hardest hit were
older women. Once women got beyond
child-bearing age, they were considered totally non-productive and a
drain. Women going through menopause
found it almost impossible to see a gynaecologist or get any relief from their
discomfort. I knew at least two women, one
widowed and one divorced, who could get no assistance whatsoever either for
health or monetary problems. They both
eventually took their own lives. They
were not unique.
Some people tried to hitch their
fortunes on younger people. Some
celebrities tried to make themselves “icons” to the young. One older actress stretched out her career by
making pornographic movies with young actors, but that didn’t work for
long. The rich were pretty immune from
the economic and even public health impacts, but they still started to keep
pretty low profiles. Face lifts and
plastic surgery didn’t change what was on your birth certificate.
Attempts at May-December and
December-May romances were popular for a while.
Older men had always had an attraction for some younger women, but the
phenomenon of older women courting younger men became much more popular. The ideal, of course was to find someone who
was both young enough to “mask” your age and rich enough to get you the medical
and other care you may need. Not too
many of these romances lasted. They were
too transparent.
So how have I survived? Well financially, I was one who didn’t put
much stock in pensions and the like. I
worked hard to build a nest egg of my own that governments couldn’t touch. So I never had any worries that way. And like
I said earlier, I’ve been lucky on the health front. No sicknesses that have killed me yet. Oh, I’ve got some arthritis that bothers me, and
I sure could use a good foot doctor for my fallen arches. But I can live with them with some good
strong aspirin and they aren’t going to kill me. I’ve still got this small apartment that I’ve
had since Anne died and I sold the house.
Fortunately, it hasn’t been designated as “Families Only” yet, so there
are some other old folks in the building who keep me company, including old
George. Somehow, he hangs in and manages
to keep his apartment and a bit of food on the table. I help him out now and then, but I suspect
that he also gets help from some of his kids.
He has five of them, and a couple are apparently fairly well off. Still, he doesn’t get to see them very often
either.
George and I were talking a while
back about the government budget that was recently announced. He said, “Did you see that new thing in the
budget?” I asked him what thing he was
thinking about. There were quite a few
new wrinkles in this one, just as there has been in most budgets in the past
few years. I used to remember when
government budgets were dull. Not
anymore. So I asked what thing he was
talking about.
“The
one where they’re going to provide free termination treatment for older folks.”
Termination treatment is the new
euphemism for euthanasia. Up till now,
it was one of the few treatments that older patients could get priority on, but
you had to pay for it since it was considered to be “elective” treatment.
“Now
that you mention it, I did see that, but I think it applies only to those
people who are badly sick.” I said.
“No”
replied George, “I see’d it in the paper this mornin’ that they’re going to
offer it to anyone who applies.”
“Are
you interested?” I asked.
“I
might be. I’ll be seventy five on my next birthday and nowhere much to go. What little money I got is running out, and
I’m scared I’ll catch some really lingerin’ sickness.”
“Will
you tell anyone like your kids before you do it?”
“Don’t
know. They’ll probably make some half-hearted
effort to talk me out of it, but they were pretty strong on the new laws when
they were passed. So I don’t think their
hearts will really be in tryin’ to stop me.
Fine state of affairs we’ve got ourselves into, ain’t it?”
“Won’t
you even tell me, George? Maybe I could
go with you, or something. Provide a bit
of support. I’ve still got a car so you
wouldn’t have to take the subway or anything.”
“No. I appreciate it, but I would probably just
want it to be me and my thoughts. You’ve
been a good friend, Ray, but I think it would be pretty hard on you. You’re not getting’ any younger, you
know.” He chuckled.
I
sighed a sigh of relief, but went on, “Well, don’t worry about me. If you change your mind, you just let me
know, okay?”
Last night I heard from a neighbour
that George had gone and had the “treatment”.
No goodbye. No fanfare. No regrets, apparently. Just a notice that George’s apartment was
available to rent. I miss him.
Now George has got me thinking about
the treatment. I don’t know how much
longer I can go on putting on a brave front.
I’m lonely and scared about what they will do next. I don’t want to get sick and I don’t want to
die alone. Maybe I’ll try and get hold
of my children before I do it. If I go
soon, at least I can tell them there will be some money left over for them and
their families. I know how to get hold
of one of them – my daughter Judy. Maybe
she can tell me where I can reach Ian.
Yeah. Maybe I’ll do that. I hope I can do it soon. I don’t want to think about this for
long. Something might happen. Where did I put Judy’s number?
[Six months after Raymond Johnson
partook of termination treatment at his local general hospital, surrounded only
by the hospital staff, a new government was elected. They were elected on a platform or
“reviewing” many of the measures that had been passed in the past few years
that affected the elderly. It seems that
the party that had been in opposition for many years had discovered that many
of the “younger” members of society were now getting older.]
© James Gordon Forbes, 2013
