Driving at night is no longer as simple as it used to be.

There was a time when I simply couldn’t understand why my parents’ generation didn’t like to drive after dark, or why they preferred to stay home and sleep in their own beds. Look at all they were missing—nights on the town, travel and weekends away with friends. Then, I totally got the driving after dark thing a few years ago when I found my eyesight was just not as sharp as it used to be when I went out at night. The solution was to plan our nights out carefully so we didn’t have to drive too far, if at all. That was the first step on a slippery slope.

I’m now developing a greater appreciation for sleeping in my own bed. Much as we love traveling, nothing’s sweeter than crawling into our own bed when we get home. We just returned from a few days visiting Washington, D.C. for some sightseeing and our room at the Hyatt Regency couldn’t have been better. They’d spent the last four years renovating the hotel and everything was perfection. The elevators in the lobby atrium were glass so we could experience our ascent and descent; the furniture and decor was all fresh and new; the bathroom was large and well-appointed and the floor was slightly heated which felt wonderful on our sore feet after a day of walking miles. The sheets were smooth and delicious to slide into at the end of the day. The pillows felt like down and there were four of them. Even the television was huge, just like at home which pleased my honey enormously. Despite these comforts, it was so good to get home.

Air travel comes with its own special set of horrors which make overseas travel particularly gruesome. If one of the unions hasn’t declared a last minute work-to-rule or full-on strike, then weather delays keep us stewing in the airport holding area for hours on end. If we do manage to get on our flight at the scheduled time and we can’t afford to fly business class with the elite, then we’re jammed into teeny tiny seats with our knees touching our chins while munching dry ham and cheese “snacks”. Who among us hasn’t been trapped on a full plane upon arrival awaiting jetway clearance or waiting for the lightning to stop before we can disembark.

There’s no place like home.

Americans are known and (rightly) mocked for insisting on American food (burgers and fries) when traveling in Europe, but I always take a zip-lock baggie of my own Canadian brand of Red Rose tea when we travel, so who am I to judge. We like things that are familiar and this trait only becomes more entrenched as we get older. That’s not to say we don’t like some adventure and travel, but we’re starting to feel the impact of being away from our home comforts. This insight has made me much more understanding of my parents’ preference for staying home and not visiting me in their later years.

Even staying overnight with close friends can be fraught with challenges. There’s a hilarious sketch on Baroness von Sketch on CBC that pokes fun at the numerous rules imposed by cottage owners on their weekend guests. “Don’t flush. If it’s yellow, let it mellow. No shampoo allowed; it causes algae. Keep the door shut to keep the blackflies out.” And the list goes on. Just makes you want to be in your own home, in your own bed, with your own bathroom on familiar ground. We all try to make our visiting guests feel at home when they come to stay and go out of our way to provide hotel-like amenities but we know from experience that there’s no place like home. And the older we get, the sweeter it is.

Click here to view “The Cottage” by Baroness von Sketch on YouTube.

Lynda Davis

As an early Baby Boomer, born in 1947, it seems to me that as we approach our retirement years, Boomers have gone from being the energy driving our nation to slowly becoming invisible. We risk losing our identity as society remains stubbornly youth-centric. And the irony is that Gen Xers and Ys are not the majority; we are. BOOMERBROADcast is my platform for being the voice of Baby Boomers, women in particular. We've generated a lot of changes over the decades but there's still a long way to go. After a 40-year career in the corporate world, I've taken up expressing the observations and concerns of our generation. Instead of pounding the pavement in my bellbottoms with a cardboard sign, I'm pounding my laptop (I learned to type on a manual typewriter and old habits die hard). If you have issues or concerns you would like voiced or have comments on what I've voiced, I'd love to hear from you. We started breaking the rules in the sixties and now that we're in our sixties it's no time to become complacent. Hope you'll stay tuned and if you like BOOMERBROADcast, share it with your friends. Let's rock n' roll! If you would like to be notified whenever I publish a new posting, click on the little blue box in the lower right of your screen that says +Follow→ Lynda Davis

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