It's begun. The reign of terror called AARP. Every day, it seems, since my 49th birthday I've been receiving these perky little envelopes advising me of my right, nay, RESPONSIBILITY to join the largest single group of involved (albeit retired) citizens on the planet. For a mere twelve dollars and fifty cents, I too, can become a member of the enfranchised old. (With all the benefits and discounts I deserve...)
But wait. When did 49 mean the beginning of the end? Last time I looked, retirement age was at least 62, if not older. That's... (whizz, grrr..ding...ding... sound of art major doing mental math...) thirteen or more years from now. So, what in the world could possibly qualify me to be a member of the American Association of Retired Persons other than a certain distant proximity to the age when most people hang it up for a new life of golf, slow driving and Fox news?
And furthermore, what in the world could AARP see in me? My demographic profile is decidedly not that of the typical AARP member. (Right???) I mean, I'm gainfully employed, wildly busy, fashion forward and still a young(ish) woman. I haven't started worrying about retirement living, early-bird dining or Depends. And to tell you the truth, retirement doesn't sound that appealing to me. In fact, most people I hang around with, all of us fifty-cuspers, are pretty unlike the stereotypical retired person. We work hard, usually too hard, are in the prime of our earning years. We spend a lot of time and energy multi-tasking: taking care of kids, spouses, parents, friends, all on top of our business lives.
I mean, I listen to rap, read Vanity Fair and Vogue and download podcasts. What do I have in common with those 50+ people radio stations tout (you know, the cotton heads who listen to "The Music of Your Life" and want more information on land yachts and municipal bonds? The Music of MY Life is James Taylor and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. For heaven's sake, the Rolling Stones were popular when I was in GRADE school... okay, maybe middle school, but you get the point...)
But maybe that's it. My mental vision of what a "mature" person is ain't quite accurate anymore. Far from little gray-haired ladies who knit and drink sherry...( I am NOT, as we know, little) we are healthier, more active, more mobile and we're also working longer. We're more ethnically diverse, vital and engaged. Plus, there are a lot of us. And while we're not ready to "retire" in the traditional sense, we do represent a powerful group of individuals who will continue to be the biggest bubble in the demographic spectrum. And for sure, our interests will be different from those of our children or our parents.
So AARP, smart devils they are, realize this and, in their ceasless efforts to aggregate, have started early to rein us in since we're likely to represent the largest and most interesting and influential group of "retirees" ever. Maybe getting old ain't what it used to be. It's me... and, as we know, I ain't that.
A little attitude adjusting in order? Hmmm. Perhaps an acronym adjustment would help: Let's change it to the American Association of Real People. 
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