I recently read something that challenged me to think about what generation I would like to come from if I could pick a generation. I began thinking about the question.

I have no interest in the 19th Century. The Roaring Twenties look like fun, but I prefer my gin comes from a green bottle instead of a bathtub. And there is that really bad day in 1929 that I would choose not to experience. Watching people jumping out of windows as they learned that their fortunes were long gone would not appeal to me.

The thirties and forties are also a no-go because of the war and all. Admittedly, I love a lot of the movies that were made in the mid- to-late 1940s, and the cars were pretty cool…..

The fifties are interesting, and not just because that is, in fact, the generation from which I come. Go Baby Boomers! The joy of the World Wars being behind us was offset by the new war: the Cold War. Still, President Eisenhower was pretty non-controversial. Perfect 1950s — faded into the background, in fact. He was a great general and a great golfer, and a decent president. And his wife Mamie was the hair bangs model for women and little girls all around the country. The clothes in the 1950s were awesome. If you don’t believe me, watch The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. I would kill for one of her coats and its matching hat. And her pageboy hairstyle…..

The sixties and seventies were a lot of fun, and a lot of stuff happened. Civil rights, women’s rights, Indians’ rights. Wait, aren’t we still working on all of those?

Frankly, the years between the 80s and 2008 are a bit of a blur. I got married. I graduated from college. I had a child. I got divorced. I got a new job. I got married. I graduated from college. I retired. It all sort of runs together. Especially since I can’t remember things as well as I used to. See yesterday’s blog post.

I’m perfectly happy being from the Baby Boomer generation. After all, as Saturday Night Live pointed out last weekend, Boomers got the vax! But if there is any period of my adult life that I would choose to relive, it would be my forties. I was a pretty hot mess in my twenties and thirties. But my forties rocked. I was happily married. My son was in junior high and high school, and I was blissfully unaware of how naughty he was actually being. (And Son, I still don’t want to know.) I had a brand new (well, new to me) house that I loved. We were both healthy. Neither Parkinson’s or bowel issues had yet reared their ugly heads. I liked my job and Bill liked his.

The truth is, however, that I am perfectly content at my current point in life. I love having grandkids. Our kids are awesome — successful, good people, good parents, and they all honor their mother and their father.

I wouldn’t go back in time or change anything. Well, I might not have chased Jen with the butcher knives when I was 10 and she was 6.