By now the story is familiar. A gray wave of aging boomers is crossing into their 60s, hitting retirement age, morphing suddenly into senior citizens, and bringing with them a new era of demographically determined dependency and despair. We're trading baby strollers for walkers and wheelchairs.
Don't believe it. The sixty-somethings headed our way will invent an entirely new stage of life — the encore years — between the end of middle adulthood and anything resembling old age and retirement. We brand them the young-old, or the working-retired. Or maybe just the oxymoronic years.
On one hand, these new-stagers are implored to hang on to their fast-fading youth — 60 is the new 40, we're told. On the other, my pharmacy offers a "senior discount" to anyone over 60. It's either clinging to lost youth or accepting premature aging.