The neglected minority
Figuring myself – older, white, conservative, male, a two-fisted drinker, oblivious to pro-sports, and fond of broccoli – part of a neglected minority, I did some looking for evidence.1 Turns out I was mostly wrong. Well, there’s a first.
Males are 49.2% of the US population. Females 50.8% and slowly increasing, but that hardly makes me ‘minority’ by sex/gender.2 If the census considers the other fifty-six2 genders, that may skew the percentages somewhat but still not enough to make me minority by gender. Drat!
Look at age demographics. The same reputable agency reports:
- Under age 18 — 24%
- 18 to 44 — 36%
- 45 to 64 — 26%
- 65 and over — 13%.
Aha! Clearly a minority at 13%. Since women outnumber men, something less than 6.5% of the population (in 2010) aged 65 and over were male. The professionals putting narrative around tables and charts suggested increases expected in the percentage of those 65 and older will continue. I can’t wait. I want my 40 acres and my mule now.
The concept of old and male as a minority loses its zip considering Caucasians represent 74% of the population. “Race” then, drops the 6.5% figure some but not aggressively. Political orientation is not part and parcel of census data and given what I’ve learned already I’m disheartened and won’t look further.3 I am not effectively a downtrodden minority member. No mule. No forty acres.
I’m now out of patience hearing complaints from narrow interest groups: youth – students especially, gender crusaders, ethnic bigots, race supremacists, aquarium owners, Republicans, Democrats, religions, and pro and con environmentalists, right-to-lifers, and second-amenders. With no patience for any of them or their self-serving agendas, I’m less inclined to consider, less inclined to grant legitimacy. Legitimacy, which in many cases long ago went to dead zero and lately to negative. Out of patience, my tolerance suffers. I am every day less and less inclined to stand for this nonsense and certainly not to hold my tongue, lest I hurt someone’s feelings.
Well, then there’s the fact my feelings are hurt that I can’t consider myself a minority and therefore cool and entitled.
Impatient and now intolerant, I’ll not even try for “sensitive” anymore. No more wasting energy holding back on words that provoke some whiny twit over gender, race, color, ethnicity, above-ground pool ownership, or Republican or feminist affiliations.
My previous efforts left me lexicographically impaired. That handicap still doesn’t put me over the top as a neglected minority.
It doesn’t bother others to speak their minds however inflammatory their words. Not gonna bother me either. Not anymore.
Let the chips fall where they may.
1census.gov 2010. Look it up. The splits, slicing and dicing boggles the mind. No need for corroboration. This is Uncle Chuck. Uncle Chuck wouldn’t lie.
2 Sex/gender? 56, 59, 64, who knows? Tomorrow it may be 100.
3 2010 reporting. Despite tedious statistical slicing and dicing reported, I found no easily discernable percentage of males over 65. Short of an afternoon of deductive extrapolation, I suggest since as age increases the percentage of females increases, by age 65+ more than the given 50.8% of that population is female. For simplicity, let’s just go with 6.5% of the population males 65 and older. Sadly, there also were no statistics on who actively followed sports or considered broccoli palatable, which would further reinforce my desperate claim to minority status. If you know of a public database supporting queries, tell me. I suspect however, warehouse granularity will not support an accurate query – green cruciferous vegetable preferences are probably aggregated.