March 25, 2020 at 3:27 p.m.
‘Target demographic’ is ominous
Back in the Saddle
The TV commercial made no sense to me.
I think it was during an NFL game several years back.
All of the references, all of the implied jokes flew right over my head.
When it ended, I had absolutely no clue what the heck was being advertised.
One of our children explained: “Dad, you’re not the target demographic.”
It was almost as if a flashing light had come on saying, “You are now officially old.”
And it was right.
I was, and I am.
Most days, I have no problem with that.
Sure, the knees ache a bit and I make audible noises when I get up off the couch.
But if the years have racked up, they have been good years.
Like any thoughtful person, I have my share of regrets.
There are things I did that I shouldn’t have done. There are things I didn’t do that I should have. There are things I said that I would like to erase from my tongue. And there are things I should have said when I had the chance but didn’t speak up.
If anyone tells you they have no regrets, tell them to look again. They’ll find them if they try.
What I don’t have are complaints.
How could I?
I was blessed with loving parents for one, and they were thoughtful parents as well.
I grew up shadowing a wonderful big brother, being shaped by a sometimes bossy big sister and being followed by a delightful little sister. Having seen so many families in disarray, I know what a treasure it is to love my siblings.
I was born in the United States of America at a time of peace and prosperity, something that occurs to me every time I reflect on the fact that somewhere in the world a child dies of starvation every 17 seconds.
I found the love of my life and to my everlasting surprise she agreed to marry me almost 49 years ago.
I have been the father of three truly remarkable daughters whose accomplishments and excellence I will brag about for days. And don’t get me started on the grandchildren.
For more than 45 years, I’ve had the privilege of interviewing hundreds and hundreds of local folks who had stories to tell, then had the privilege of sharing those stories with our readers.
And I’ve also had the opportunity to spout off on this page now and then with opinions that sometimes irked, angered and baffled readers. (I also had the opportunity to hear from readers who agreed with me.)
So now, here I am as the “target demographic” for something else, something I’d not expected.
COVID-19, it seems, is a particular threat to old folks like me.
Suddenly, “target demographic” sounds a little bit more ominous.
The question, then, is how to deal with this.
Do you panic? Do you deny?
At our house, we’re taking a route somewhere in between.
The last thing I would want to do is catch the coronavirus and pass it on to someone more vulnerable. So I’m cautious.
Like most of you, I’m using hand sanitizer much more than before and am washing my hands frequently. I bump elbows instead of shaking hands, keep my distance and do my best to be mindful about the threat.
But at the same time, I’m not paralyzed. I go to work, do my job — some of it remotely like this column — shop, go to the post office, cover meetings for the newspaper and try to live as normal a life as possible.
Is that a perfect strategy? I don’t know.
But for this member of the “target demographic” it seems to be working.
Stay safe, and wash your hands.
I think it was during an NFL game several years back.
All of the references, all of the implied jokes flew right over my head.
When it ended, I had absolutely no clue what the heck was being advertised.
One of our children explained: “Dad, you’re not the target demographic.”
It was almost as if a flashing light had come on saying, “You are now officially old.”
And it was right.
I was, and I am.
Most days, I have no problem with that.
Sure, the knees ache a bit and I make audible noises when I get up off the couch.
But if the years have racked up, they have been good years.
Like any thoughtful person, I have my share of regrets.
There are things I did that I shouldn’t have done. There are things I didn’t do that I should have. There are things I said that I would like to erase from my tongue. And there are things I should have said when I had the chance but didn’t speak up.
If anyone tells you they have no regrets, tell them to look again. They’ll find them if they try.
What I don’t have are complaints.
How could I?
I was blessed with loving parents for one, and they were thoughtful parents as well.
I grew up shadowing a wonderful big brother, being shaped by a sometimes bossy big sister and being followed by a delightful little sister. Having seen so many families in disarray, I know what a treasure it is to love my siblings.
I was born in the United States of America at a time of peace and prosperity, something that occurs to me every time I reflect on the fact that somewhere in the world a child dies of starvation every 17 seconds.
I found the love of my life and to my everlasting surprise she agreed to marry me almost 49 years ago.
I have been the father of three truly remarkable daughters whose accomplishments and excellence I will brag about for days. And don’t get me started on the grandchildren.
For more than 45 years, I’ve had the privilege of interviewing hundreds and hundreds of local folks who had stories to tell, then had the privilege of sharing those stories with our readers.
And I’ve also had the opportunity to spout off on this page now and then with opinions that sometimes irked, angered and baffled readers. (I also had the opportunity to hear from readers who agreed with me.)
So now, here I am as the “target demographic” for something else, something I’d not expected.
COVID-19, it seems, is a particular threat to old folks like me.
Suddenly, “target demographic” sounds a little bit more ominous.
The question, then, is how to deal with this.
Do you panic? Do you deny?
At our house, we’re taking a route somewhere in between.
The last thing I would want to do is catch the coronavirus and pass it on to someone more vulnerable. So I’m cautious.
Like most of you, I’m using hand sanitizer much more than before and am washing my hands frequently. I bump elbows instead of shaking hands, keep my distance and do my best to be mindful about the threat.
But at the same time, I’m not paralyzed. I go to work, do my job — some of it remotely like this column — shop, go to the post office, cover meetings for the newspaper and try to live as normal a life as possible.
Is that a perfect strategy? I don’t know.
But for this member of the “target demographic” it seems to be working.
Stay safe, and wash your hands.
Top Stories
9/11 NEVER FORGET Mobile Exhibit
Chartwells marketing
September 17, 2024 7:36 a.m.
Events
250 X 250 AD