ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Thursday, Sep. 13 2007

Growing old in the culture of perpetual adolescence
By Colleen Carroll Campbell

Aristophanes, the ancient Greek dramatist, compared old age to a second
childhood. If writer Diana West were to update his analogy for the 21st
century, she might say that it has become a second adolescence. And that, she
would argue, is not a good thing.

Author of the provocative new book, "The Death of the Grown-Up," West contends
that American adults are trapped in a state of arrested development. In a
nation in which the Cartoon Network has been known to attract more viewers
between the ages of 18 and 49 than CNN, the average video gamester is 33 and
60-something rock stars still prance onstage in leather pants crooning about
their sexual frustration, West sees more than nostalgia for the carefree
pleasures of youth. She senses a cultural shift that has elevated the
decadence, aimlessness and self-absorption associated with adolescence into
cornerstone virtues for all ages.

West focuses her analysis largely on indulgent parents more concerned about
appearing "cool" than disciplining their children. But equally interesting is
how our cult of adolescence affects the elderly.

Aging gracefully in a Peter Pan society is no easy task. Older Americans are
remaining active and living longer than ever before, but they no longer enjoy
immunity from our culture's forever-young demands. In place of blatant age
discrimination, there is a new ethic of exaggerated non-discrimination that
says older Americans must meet the same standards of physical health, sexual
allure and perpetual hipness as everyone else — or die trying.

This notion permeates publications and products aimed at the older set.
Visitors to the AARP website find ads for an elder model search and tips on
losing "belly bulge" along with stories on aphrodisiacs, "hot new sex drugs"
and a profile of a British biologist who regards aging as a disease to be
eradicated.

Image-conscious readers who consider AARP's bench-press guidelines too soft can
find more challenging workouts in the studiously hip GeezerJock Magazine or
join the growing ranks of Americans over 60 investing in pectoral implants,
thigh lifts and tummy tucks.

Those hoping that old age might exempt them from the same superficial pressures
that consumed them in high school will find little reassurance from the
mainstream media. The older adults celebrated in today's movies and magazines
are not those who accept gracefully the trappings and limits of age but those
who defy them: septuagenarians addicted to marathon running, celebrities who
refuse to answer to "Grandpa" or "Grandma" when their children's children call
and surgically enhanced, scantily clad 60-something actresses who sprawl on
magazine covers in sex-kitten poses. Their defiant message is clear: It's fine
to grow older, so long as you don't think, look or act like an old person.

Some welcome this blurring of generational lines as evidence that elders are
accorded equal treatment in our cult of youth. But the preoccupation with
proving that Grandma's still sexy and Grandpa's still got game contributes to
the very fixation on youthful vigor that marginalizes our elders.

It also blinds us to their unique contributions to our culture. The lives and
stories of our elders remind us that today's tragedies may become tomorrow's
triumphs and that tasks that consume us now may count for little at life's end.
Elders can testify from experience that the pleasure of earning a few more
bucks or turning a few more heads fades much sooner than the peace that comes
from comforting a dying parent or living by principle, regardless of fashion.

That hard-won wisdom accrues with the passing of years. Although it can be
glimpsed at any age, it is possessed fully only by those who trade the heady
thrills of adolescence for the richer rewards of grown-up life.

Colleen Carroll Campbell is an author, television host and St. Louis-based
fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center. Her website is
www.colleen-campbell.com.