Retirement Age

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