We won't go into the unspeakable decades that followed, or their effect on my generation. I'll skip to my 60th birthday, to help me explain why Monday was so important to me, and I expect to others my age and older.

The realization that, as Captain Picard put it, there are fewer days ahead than behind, sooner or later focuses your mind. Partly due to other circumstances and insights, I saw that what most people think of as "the present" was over for me. Not the present moment--which actually becomes more important--but the present of accumulating, networking, career, keeping up with the latest whatever, moving up some ladder or another, etc. If you haven't "made it" by 60 (whatever "making it" means to you), it's unlikely anybody's going to let you try anymore. (In fact, that often happens now at 50.)

I still have things I'd like to accomplish (mostly things I intend to write), but even when they're somewhat the same as before, the reasons are different. What becomes important is understanding your past, and communicating it--or what you've learned from it that's pertinent-- to the future. The past becomes much more of the content of your life, and the future--not your future, but THE future-- becomes more important.

I have to say at this point that despite the temptations of stereotypes, not all baby boomers are the same: not even all white males. Some of my friends are retiring, but others like me don't see that possibility, though we're pulling back. Some of us have powerful positions in business, government, media and so on--or we did--but most of us don't and didn't. And if we don't or didn't, most doors are now closed to us--we're too old. The cliche of the wealthy suburban Me Generation boomer eager to soak up Social Security along with our huge stock portfolios describes almost nobody I know. Certainly not me. Some of us not only paid our dues, we paid for them.