We could start with impoverished veterans

So, I was standing in the line to buy tickets to “Miami Vice” the other day when the thought hit me like an overripe pomegranate:

I’m now officially a senior.

Well, almost. I do qualify for membership in AARP . But that doesn’t help me all that much when it comes to getting senior discounts. I get more mileage out of my AAA membership.

See, businesses keep raising the age of what they define as a “senior.” It used to be 55. Now Regal Cinemas defines senior as someone 60 or older. AMC ups that by giving senior discounts to those no younger than 65.

But you know what? Until I’m on a fixed income, I’m going to pay full freight. I tend to go to afternoon showings anyway, when prices are typically a couple of dollars less than evening hours.

Even if I didn’t though, I’d still pay the max. And why? Because I’m tired of being labeled a whining Baby Boomer .

I am a Boomer. No question. My parents helped celebrate the new year of 1947, less than year and half after the end of World War II , by doing what comes biologically natural.

What that means, though, is that I grew up in a time of unprecedented economic growth. And as a solid member of the middle class , I benefited, if not with any great inheritance then with an attitude that said I was capable of achieving at least a degree of success as long as I put in the work.

I did. And I continue to. But that’s a personal decision, and it doesn’t make me anything special.

Neither does it qualify me for any special breaks. I can pay my own way, and so I do.

The time will come soon enough when I’ll be forced to live on less than what I have now. Maybe then I’ll be willing to accept being labeled a “senior.”

Until then, give your discount to those who truly need it.