No Country For Young Men (or Women)

We in the Americas, especially in Latin America, take for granted that the media, technology, sports (except for broadcasters), and other "signs of the times" are for the young. In Europe, and certainly in France, this is not so.

This is a country where rock concerts are given by people who have to be carried on to the stage and there is more white hair in most movies than there is in the stables of the Spanish Riding School of Vienna. (Here's a picture just in case you can't figure out the reference.)



Most everything is geared to the crowd over sixty and there are more senior discounts available in shops, public venues, and entertainment spots than you can shake a cane at.

Now, I am not complaining. We went to see "The Shop Around The Corner" at a great classics movie theater the other day, and the girl in the ticket booth gave me the senior discount without my having to ask for it. (As opposed to a silly kid in the concession stand of the San Francisco Giants ballpark who asked me for an ID when I ordered a beer. I spilled a lot of beer as I laughed on the way back to my seat!)

Of course, this state of events pleases me greatly but (and as you know from reading my blogs, there is always a "but") this does not bode well for the country. Most young people cannot have a contract that entitles them to benefits, unemployment compensation, medical and dental coverage, and so on until they are twenty eight, or so. A lot of kids fresh out of school end up doing menial jobs because, unless they are graduates of some of the top schools, there is very little out there in the labor market.

Add to this the fact that people here are long-lived (it is not unusual to see an 85 year old man barreling down the road in his car at a speed that matches his age) and that the government is trying to push the retirement age up due to the large deficit that the Social Security system is running, and you get the idea of why I say that this is no country for young men, or women.

This long prolog brings me to my daily rant: who the hell is going to pay for my nursing home when I am too old to take care of myself? If half the young population of France leaves the country to go and try to become millionaires in Silicon Valley, and the other half can´t get a decent paying job that would imply that he or she has to pay taxes, who is going to pull the Social Security System out of debt?

I worried about this the other day as we were having our evening meal of home-grown vegetables salad and apple cider, because that venerable tax dodger and idol of the geriatric masses, Johnny Halliday, came on the screen on the eight o'clock news.

"Look at him," I said. "He looks like a wax image of himself that has been left out in the sun too long."

My wife laughed but then took offense when Leo Ferré came on the screen and I said that he had to "talk" all of his songs because he was too old to carry a tune. (But that seems to be the style, talking the songs, that is, of most French singers, anyway).

"What do you mean?" she said in a punitive tone.

I went into my rant about who is going to pay for my nursing home, but she would have none of it. I then launched into a technical and exhaustive explanation of the effects of the old folks hogging the job market and the deficit of the SS system, but this did not divert her from assuming attack mode either.

I then commented on how the media in the Americas was dominated by the young whipper snappers and leggy, feather-headed floozies, as were most other industries, and she launched her first volley of artillery fire.

"Well, that is simply not true. What about stars like Burt Lancaster and Kirk Douglas? They made movies into their old age."

"Yes, and what did they play? They played decrepit old fogies."

"It doesn't matter what they played. The fact is that they were making movies."

She had a point so I tried to divert her reasoning by continuing with my rant.

"We are getting off on a tangent here. My point is that in France the old guys dominate the media, the arts, the economy, and culture. They leave very little room for young people, and we are going to pay for that."

"And, what would you have older people do? Stop producing just because they are old?"

"I would at least have them stop producing such dire and mournful material. My God look at this guy Ferré's songs: Melancholy, Upon My Burial, Song for Death...what next? When my body starts rotting would be a good theme for one of his songs."

"Look who is getting of the theme now," she said.

"You are right. Back to my rant. I am going to write a blog about it and I will give it a title to that effect: "No Country For Young Men".

"And what about the young women?"

"I guess I can include them as well."

We were silent for a moment and then I said that I would continue to play the Lotto because it was probably my only chance to have decent care in my old age.

"Hmph!"She said, "Leo Ferré does not need to play the Lotto. He has made enough money from his "morbid" songs."

I had no rejoinder for that.