The Age of Unreason?

Age is a relative thing. When you are seven, anyone over the age of twelve is grown up. And when you are sixteen, thirty is the gateway to drool and incontinence pads.

As an eight year old I recall being quite relieved when my twenty five year old teacher FINALLY married and had a baby. I feared if she didn’t hurry up, she would be waaaay too old.

When I reached twenty-five, myself, it was quite a different story. I felt young; my life stretched before me and the world was at my feet. Conversely, my approaching-their-thirties siblings seemed ‘mature-aged’ and my parents …. well … they were positively ancient!

Around this time, a relative died at age 55 and I actually thought, “Oh well, he’s had a good innings! “ A good innings? What was I thinking? Now that 50 looms in my not too distant future, 55 is like the prime of youth! At 55 you should be dancing til midnight, riding surf boards and seeing the world, not six foot under pushing up daisies. Goodness, how my perspective has changed!

And what has brought about this sudden interest in our varied perspectives of ageing?

Well, the other day I heard on the radio that a local girl had been invited to join a group of ‘young people’ to meet the Pope. Oh, how lovely I thought. A bunch of teenagers hanging out with the God Squad. I had visions of Benedict XVI, cross-legged in St Peter’s Square in hoodie and jeans, downing a Big Mac and chilling out with the kids.

My vision was short lived. The news report concluded by interviewing the ‘young woman’ in question.

At first, however, I thought they must have mistakenly interviewed her mother, for clearly the voice on the other end of the phone was not that of a teenager. In fact, without even setting eyes on our Little Miss Vatican 2010 I guessed she was somewhere in her late thirties. I was prepared to wager that if she was a teen, then the Pope was certainly no Catholic!

So what was this ‘young people’ thing all about? When I was thirty I was an adult mother of three with responsibilities and a mortgage. I didn’t consider myself to be exactly ‘old’ but to me ‘young’ was anything under 25.

But of course I have overlooked the Baby Boomer Factor. After all, if there’s one thing we BBs hate it’s to lose control. Thus ageing is not on our agenda. No, instead we have simply reinvented the standard stages of maturity to suit ourselves. ‘Old’ is becoming the new ‘young’.

‘Young’ is everything up to and including whatever age we Boomers currently are, and ‘old’ is anything beyond the next twenty years. We reserve the right to revisit and manipulate this to suit our egos and lifestyles, so be prepared to see 80 as the new 50; 50 as the new 30; 30 as the new 18; (16 as 16 - some things don’t get any better) and pre-pubescent tweenies will be the new toddlers. Babyhood will be retained in its current form, mainly because babies don’t give a toss about getting older (in fact they quite like being babies) and besides, going back to the womb might be a bit tricky.

So, anyway, I guess I don’t need to worry about the crows-feet or saggy bits that are coming my way. After all, thanks to our ageless Baby Boomers, these are about to become synonymous with eternal youth. In fact, it will be so cool to be wrinkled, all the kids will be wanting turkey-necks for Christmas. Their mantra will be ‘Old dudes ROCK!’ and we will approach our twilight years happy in the knowledge that we’ve still got ‘it’…..

……um….that’s if we can remember what ‘it’ actually is….

Nav Nuts

After writing a recent article about car navigation systems and the amazing technology that enables them to function, I got to thinking about the little voices these devices employ to give verbal directions. For example, on ours there is a very British-sounding lady. She has such a regal affectation, I almost feel like it’s the Queen giving the orders.

“One should command one’s vehicle to turn left at the next intersection,” she instructs. “Oh, and DO be sure to indicate ….. or we shall NOT be amused!”

This got me thinking about some possible alternatives to this voice … as well as some creative new product ideas.

For example, we could have ‘Nav Bloke’. He has the voice of an Ocker and gives instructions like: “Hey Chooka, why doncha hit the skids at the red loight, mate? Then hang a lefty at the pub on the corner. Bewdy.”

I can see Nav Bloke being very popular amongst the local lads.

Then there could be Nav Kid. This one would be a hit with the small fry because, rather than containing boring stuff about roads and adult destinations, it would only contain global positioning information for fast food outlets and toy shops.

The voice will shriek; “Stop the car, Mum! So and so (insert annoying sibling’s name) is hitting me! I need to go to the toilet! I’m hungry! I wanna buy a new X Box!” If nothing else, this device would minimise the length of time that parents are willing to spend driving, thus reducing global warming. See, how eco-responsible are we at our new Naf Nav factory?

But wait; there’s more! Just to save us girls a bit of work, we could have Nav Nag, which would sound something like this: “I TOLD you to turn left at the last corner, Geoffrey! Now you’ll have to turn right, make a detour to pick up my mother, run the kids to basketball and bring home something for dinner! (Gee, I’ll bet Geoffrey can’t wait for THAT one to hit the market!)

Of course, we shouldn’t overlook the older members of society when marketing our new line of car navigators. Nav Gran will not only ask our senior citizens where they need to go (and if they’re absolutely sure about that), but it will also send them back inside to get their glasses, turn off the iron and put the cat out … before it even allows the car to leave the driveway!

Or for those who prefer a little Zen, what about New Age Nav. As you approach a chaotic intersection, a serene voice accompanied by pan pipes and the sound of rolling waves will waft peacefully across the airways. The voice will eventually murmur; “Just let go. MMMMMMM. Take a deep breath and eeeeeeze right. Just drift along and let your inner chakra guide you.”

Then, lastly, for nostalgic Baby Boomers, there will be Hippy Nav. It will come in a jaunty little plastic case covered in flowers and peace signs and the drawling voice will say; “Hey, man. What’s your hurry? We’re all on a road to nowhere, man! Slow down; smell the roses; feel the love. Peace man.”

I don’t know about you, but I feel better already.

Not safer. But better.