By David Bozeman
He is me.
But he can be anybody. Just feeling that life has thrown you to the curb can make you long for a voice or a shoulder to lean on. If this is you, keep reading.
Just a warning, as a male, I write from a male perspective. What follows may not apply to everyone, but, unlike too many in this crazy world, I try to inspire anyone who needs a lift.
So, what makes me obsolete? I'm 60 and single (why do I feel like I'm the only man in my community not married?). I'm too young to retire and too old for the really good full-time jobs. For nineteen years, warehouse work offered great pay, benefits and the promise of a comfortable retirement. Then, just shy of my 50th birthday, our building closed, our jobs ended, and years that should have been spent planning for my future saw a return to square one, trying, usually unsuccessfully, to convince thirty-year old managers that I was worthy of a chance to prove myself. My work ethic has never been stronger and yet my prospects have never looked as bleak.
I don't consider myself poor, but our part-time economy has consigned me to its hamster-wheel of multiple short-shift jobs. Predictably, financial struggles do not bode well for romantic prospects (or at least not for self-confidence), but men such as me feel banished not just from private life but public, as well.
I don't want to go on a rant here, but the political class rarely speaks to the obsolete man. Election '24 resembles a food fight, with charges, countercharges, legal shenanigans and social media vitriol drowning out any discussions of substance for working people. Certainly the idea of any male feeling banished by society will draw only sneers from elite opinion makers. The obsolete are apparently too small to comprise a viable voting bloc and are, thus, written off as leftovers from the last century. We are as outdated as the command, "Respect your elders" and, of course, enjoy no holidays or months in our honor.
But, again, it's not political vindication we seek. We obsolete men seek our destinies; we seek purpose in a world governed by the whims of Gen-X-ers and Millennials. Technically, I count as a boomer, but, coming along at the tail end (born in1963; the Baby Boom generation comprises those born from 1946-64), I never identified with the movers and shakers who defined my era. We obsolete men defy categorization and, though not authentic rebels, life sometimes forces us to stand up defiantly.
We are aliens in an ever-changing, morally ambiguous world that challenges common sense (i.e., what is a woman?) and, for better or worse, a lifetime of moral values and precepts.
But really, the obsolescence we perceive is mostly self-imposed. We isolate ourselves, either defensively or defiantly, but the result is the same. We are thankful just to have jobs - careers and life-defining passions we reserve for society's golden children. We banish ourselves to the sidelines and watch the world go by, hoping for a whirlwind to pull us into a cause or an opportunity that we can call belonging.
I challenge the obsolete to stake your claims now. In a world of economic uncertainty, forge unconventional paths. Whether you're 70, 80 or beyond, it's not too late to take your place at the table and to seek connection, always looking out for those in need.
This site is a voice for those tired of just surviving. Ultimately, no one can claim your destiny but you. I'm merely your nudge, your friendly obsolete man here to remind you that hope is not some soft luxury but a necessity for survival in this crazy world.
Follow-up: Thrown to the wolves again. My morning (retail) job recently ended. Time to market myself, searching again for a soft landing. To those of you looking for a place and a purpose, don't just seek your destiny, claim it.
