When I was a child, I used to watch a children’s program on the French channel. A mime clown would attempt to seriously do something while a puppet mouse watched and giggled at his antics. When the clown tried to put up a Christmas tree, it would topple over to gales of laughter from the mouse. I often feel like that clown. Someone is watching while you botch things up. And, you only have to laugh.
The trick is not to take yourself too seriously. Hard to do.
Considering then and now:
I was raised in a house in the suburbs. We had a front porch, a backyard with peach, plum and willow trees. The yard was surrounded by a white picket fence. My dad hired my sister and me to paint it at a nickel a picket in the summer. Thanks, Dad!
One would think I had the ideal life. Think again.
Let’s just say you can count me in on the #metoo list.
When I went to college, I got a room in the YWCA. And, later, I stayed at Willard Hall in Toronto, which was run by the Women’s Christian Temperance Union. It was a safe harbour for young women new to the big city.
No alcohol or men allowed. Although occasionally, both were smuggled in. Where can single, young women find safe, affordable accommodation now?
At the time, single men had the option of lodgings with bed and board, usually run by a no-nonsense landlady.
As a young woman just starting out, I stayed at a lot of rooming houses. They were largely ramshackle relics gone to seed. You had your own room and sink, with a shared kitchen and bathroom at the end of the hall.
Fast Forward to 2021. No more rooming houses. They were bulldozed to make way for condos. Charitable organizations providing inexpensive housing for low-income students or folks just down on their luck? Almost non-existent.
Affordable houses? Do you have a few million? Rental apartments? Join the line-up. Affordable ones? Dream on.
I mourn the demise of the rooming houses.
I also mourn for those now forced to live in vans, or tents or worse.
When I was a young woman, I stood up. I was not afraid to be labelled a feminist. In those days, it was a swear word. You could lose your job — I remember asking my boss at the time why the fellow who I supervised was getting $100 more a month than I was. He had a Grade 12 diploma. I had a B.A. But I was told, he was being trained for management. The question, “Why not me?” was met with a shrug. I quit and got a better job. You could in those days.
Now. Women are still fighting for a seat at the table.
Continuing with the then and now theme:
Then, kids were afraid of teachers. Now, vice versa.
Then, mini-skirts. Now, tights.
These days I’m experiencing deja vu. I keep seeing folks that remind me of people I knew, when. Of course, they can’t be. I knew them 50 years ago.
Oh, no. The person in the mirror who looks like Mr. Magoo is me. You just have to laugh.
I have great faith in the younger generation. Then, if you were LGBTQS+, you got beat up or worse. Now, you can be gender fluid. People get it. There’s no male and female brain, but the curious, experimental, scientific, mathematical and artistic. Intelligence doesn’t have a gender bias. The kids these days get it. I always thought of myself as a Pansexual person. Kids nowadays consider Pan as possible. Pink and blue become purple.
The youth of today are concerned with the environment. They strive for ways to make things better. They realize there’s no time to waste. Greta is the present Joan of Arc.
The youth of today are right on!
The next generations are far wiser than we were.
What advice do I have for my 20-year old self?
Eat a balanced diet. (I was skinny and anemic.)
Don’t go out with someone because you don’t want to hurt their feelings.
If your partner is not as proud of your achievements as you would be of his or her’s, run.
If someone chooses to be upset with you when you mean no harm, that is their choice. Apologize and move on.
Treasure your friends and show gratitude to the folks who have your back.
Don’t give up. It gets better.
About being a senior in 麻豆社国产here and now, I think of 麻豆社国产as akin to the mythical TV bar Cheers. Clerks in the banks and shops greet you by name. You can converse with strangers. Some considerate soul has put chairs at the bus stops for passengers to sit while they wait. Each coffee shop has its crony corner where local seniors chat over lattes. Movies have been filmed around our library, where the foyer is an art gallery. Seniors can hike and bike along our trails too. I’ve participated in art-in-the-park, tai chi and yoga sessions, and taken fun bus trips organized through The 55 Activity Centre.
Can you think of anywhere else to spend your senior years than being safe and sound here in Squamish? I can’t.
Squamish’s Melody Wales graduated from Ryerson University and has worked as a columnist for various publications.
