I GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL in 1966—yes, before fire was discovered, as my Generation Y daughters would say. I used to feel “leading edge.” In at least one way I am leading edge—a leading-edge Baby Boomer, born in 1947. Now I feel like an “antique” and am not going into this old age thing gracefully. I will go kicking and screaming.
I remember high school graduation very well. I recall that my graduation gift from my parents was a plaid set of cloth luggage.
“When would I use this?” I asked.
“Now,” my parents replied. “You are out of here.”
And I was, in fact, out of there. The last out of eleven children from two large merged families to leave, which I suppose in that case made me “ending edge.”
My stepfather had seven kids and ...