After realizing my childhood dreams had faded, I found a way to bring them back to life
When I mark my 65th birthday next month, I’ll hardly be alone. Every day, more than 11,000 Americans turn 65 — part of the massive group of 71.6 million Baby Boomers born in the years following World War II.
I’ve always considered myself a Boomer. But as a late one, born between 1957 and 1964, I learned that I belong to a tagalong cohort called Generation Jones.
According to Jonathan Pontell, who named this sub-generation, “Jonesers” absorbed a powerful sense of idealism in the optimistic 1960s. But as we came of age in the pessimistic ‘70s and ‘80s, our moods morphed into an unrequited craving — a “Jonesing,” as he called it.
This craving presents differently for everyone. Mine lay dormant while I was busy building my career. But when I hit retirement, it crept in — just as Pontell had predicted.
Every generation is affected by the headlines of its formative years. To better understand what brought me to this niggling place of dissatisfaction, I decided to look back at the major milestones of my life.