page contents Google

HIDDEN BOOMER WHEN YOU SCRATCH THE SURFACE

hidden boomer

Hidden boomer is like fine silver; more tarnish means better silver.

Take that nasty looking spoon through a cycle of good polish and what happens? It turns into the star of the silverware drawer, a favorite for dipping and stirring.

What happens when a nasty looking boomer gets cleaned up? Adjust expectations accordingly.

Before covid, my local gym carried a host of characters I may never see again.

They were men and women I shared a common affinity with: fitness. We all moved the same direction at different speeds.

I asked a trainer what he considered the most useless exercise equipment on the floor. He pointed to the recumbent bikes, the sit down jobs.

They were one of three bike styles available. The other two were the big-ass seat bike, my favorite, and the competitive bike with the shoe sized seat to kick ass with.

“Why the recumbent bikes?” I asked the trainer.

The guy was out of shape, had yellow stained fingers, and smelled like he’d just roasted a pack of Winstons.

“Look who uses them,” he said.

So I looked over and saw large old people chatting, slow pedaling, and watching TV. My quick review saw them in the gym, not in line for a fat burger, large fries, and a jumbo shake, but I kept the comparison to myself.

I also saw a hidden boomer or two looking for a reason to step up their game, new people who would transition to more challenging workouts.

Or quit. There’s always quitting.

Hidden Boomer Revelations

What lies beneath the surface of guys who look like this? Anger? He looks angry. Bitterness? Looks a little bitter, too.

And don’t forget loneliness. This is one lonely man, but who would guess? Why the harsh feelings?

He’s angry because things changed on him. What he thought was a ‘way of life’ turned into disappointment. He had the freedom, then discovered it was just another word for nothing left to lose.

He had the girl who loved him, but he wasn’t very tuned in to her. He thought their lives together hitching rides in trucks before it rained, playing his harmonica while she sang every song the drivers knew, would last forever.

But she wanted more and left him near Salinas to find the home she wanted with him. What did he do? Wallowed in regret until the anger set in. She was his girl, but more her own girl, and he couldn’t accept that.

Probably would have made a rotten husband for Bobbi McGee.

Hidden Boomer Bitterness

This is what you get when free spirits feel pressured to conform to societal norms: A big bag of bitterness.

When happy dreams don’t turn into ecstatic reality, they’ve got to go somewhere. Instead of channeling their energy toward something positive, it goes the other way.

Like rear echelon soldiers learned in WWII, the country boys mingling with urban ladies in Italy and France, their dating habits didn’t translate back home.

When the Summer of Love didn’t last all year, how many boomers in attendance felt betrayed? All of them? Even if they didn’t cut their hair and get a real job, they still got old.

Aging, the ultimate ripoff, man.

Harsh Boomer Loneliness

This is the face that asks, “Where is everybody? Where are my friends, my family. Why did I spend so much time and money on them in the first place?”

If an open mind shuts, this is the reason why. A lonely old man without social contacts, love, and care will always have a home on Fox News. That’s where classes for hate and general bullshit are held by a cadre of squinty people glaring at their audience.

It’s an expression familiar to those who’ve seen it face to face in real time. The body English says, “Listen to me boy, you won’t understand this, but do it anyway.”

Army drill sergeants take raw recruits by the cuff and do a scream job on them for effect. If it doesn’t work to change behavior, they take another breath and blow up again.

Old, isolated, boomer needs new things to hate to keep up their bile. Black Lives Matter? China? Millennials?

If you know a hidden boomer, or are one, take a moment and ask, “Who do I love?” Followed up by, “Who loves me?”

Ask the love question around proven haters and wait for a good answer, then get back to me.

Waiting. Still waiting. What’ve you got?

About David Gillaspie

I am a writer. This is my blog story day by day.