It may feel like only yesterday that the times they were a-changin’, but this year, they’re a-changin’ again, as the first wave of America’s largest generation – some 70 million strong – shifts from baby boomers to senior citizens. Bob Dylan, it turns out, is 65 this year; he’s already there. But his youngers, those born in 1946, can now officially mark May as Older Americans Month, established by President John F. Kennedy in 1963 to celebrate the wisdom, contributions and sacrifices of the country’s elders.

And baby boomers are rewriting the book and look of senior citizenship.

“Attitudinally, I’m no different from when I was 30,” said Lynn Evans, who is 61. Evans is a Realtor and house restorer in Castine. He also recently co-purchased the village’s bustling variety store. “The proof is in the pudding. Look what I’m doing at 61. I don’t see myself retiring. I want to keep doing things. I feel better both mentally and physically when I am this busy. I’m thriving.”

In 2000, Maine was home to more than 183,000 people over age 65, approximately 14 percent of the state’s population. That’s about 2 percent higher than the national numbers. And in both cases, the numbers are growing. Earlier this year, the U.S. Census Bureau reported that by 2030, the number of Americans over age 65 will double, from today’s 35.9 million to 72 million.

“Fifteen years from now, one out of every five persons you pass on the streets of Bangor will be older than 65,” said Lenard Kaye, director of the Center on Aging at the University of Maine. “Increasingly, the elder challenge will be more and more visible. So keep your eyes open and stop denying that aging is a natural and inevitable process. It’s not to be feared, but it is to be planned for.”

The best way to plan, said Kaye, is to prepare. Take care of your health, stay connected to the community through family, church, work or hobbies. And plan for the days ahead by budgeting carefully, living near educational centers and volunteer opportunities, talking with family.

“Talk about these things early before they become immediate needs or become a crisis,” said Diana Scully, director of elder services at the Maine Department of Health and Human Services. “This is hard to do when you are in your 50s and 60s, but it’s very important. Stay involved.”

And keep an open mind. Sixty may be the new 50, but 70 is the new 60. Can it be far off that 90 is the new 80? The numbers suggest yes, and whether the topic is housing, health, Social Security, red-hatted women or golf-club wielding grandpas, members of the generation born between 1946 and 1965 are not only up and coming but up and staying- for as long as they can.

“People are immobilized by their fear of what this aging explosion means,” said Kaye. “That mentality can really do great harm because it doesn’t look at what elders bring to society. Don’t sell elders short. Don’t be misled by the old quip that you can’t teach old dogs new tricks. We have technology that can help people pick up techniques in a dramatically rapid fashion. People learn. People can be retooled.”

While Kaye and Scully agreed that rural states such as Maine have more work to do with older Americans who are isolated and impoverished, many of the state’s elders, said Kaye, are “pretty impressive.”

“The majority of older folks out there are doing fine,” he added. “They are managing quite well, especially in Maine. They have a stiff upper lip, they are stoic mentally, and that serves them well. It is also worrisome. It serves them well because they survive on their own. It’s worrisome because that same mentality creates an inclination not to ask for help. They tend to underutilize services, even when they are easily available.”

Although baby boomers may be better off than any other generation when it comes to aging, many from an even earlier generation, one that has lived through two world wars, the Great Depression, men on the moon and cyberspace, have become role models for the next generation of older Americans.

Many couples and family members have taken up residence in assisted living and retirement communities. Indeed, Maine’s overall population showed small gains, including retirees, in a Census Bureau report last month. But about 30 percent of the state’s elderly people live alone without a spouse, child, roommate or aide. Many of them own their own houses, budget a fixed income, attend classes, sit on boards, go to performing arts and church activities, and take advantage of senior discounts at the movies as well as statewide services that help with day-to-day necessities such as housework and repairs.

One of those services is Meals for Me, an affiliate of Meals on Wheels Association of America that delivers more than 1 million daily meals nationally to seniors who are homebound and cannot prepare meals for themselves. In Greater Bangor, about a dozen volunteers, many of whom are retired and elderly, deliver about 140 lunches to seniors at their homes – regardless of income. There are also about 50 dining halls in the area that serve warm food to mobile seniors each day.

“For many of our clients, meal deliverers are the only people they see that day,” said Deborah Falkenburg, program director of Bangor’s Meals for Me. “It’s a nice job. It’s also a sad job. A lot of the clients are old, and you lose some of them over the years.” She spoke of a woman who was unable to go out for more than a dozen years because she lived on a second floor. She since has died, but those daily deliveries were her only connection to the outside world.

Whether well-off or poor, however, Falkenburg said the people on the delivery route “are all loving and kind.”

And hungry. Many housebound seniors make their own breakfast but look forward to a warm midday repast. Important for many is the fact that they can eat at their own tables in their own homes.

“I’d rather be in my own apartment,” said Doris Landman, who is 91. “My daughter lives in West Virginia. My son lives in Florida. My sister and her husband are both ill. They said I could live with them, but I wouldn’t put that burden on them.”

For the past eight years, Landman has lived in a Bangor apartment in a housing development for the elderly. She broke her hip when she was 88, and the recovery has been slow, but she gets around with a walker and an electrically powered buggy. Her next-door neighbor checks on her every day, and a worker from the state comes once a week to help with housework. She lives on her Social Security check, which still allows her to buy gifts for her grandchildren and great-grandchildren during the holidays.

“Every day is about the same,” said Landman, a vivacious talker who generously uses the word “dear” in conversation. “The library brings me a bag of big-print books each month. I read every one. I used to crochet, but I hurt my hand. I tried it the other day and made four rows. Maybe I’ll start in again.”

Coincidentally, active engagement also fuels independence.

“Nobody likes to be institutionalized,” said Charles Bragg, who is 95 and has lived alone in Bangor for the last 10 years. “Being at home, you can be your own boss. As long as you can paddle your own canoe, it’s pleasant enough. I can see and hear and move around, but like everyone who’s old, I have minor health problems. It takes me five times as long to do things.”

Bragg retired at 70 but “hardly noticed the difference” because he has stayed so busy. He cooks his own food, still drives – as do 72 percent of Mainers age 75 and older, and is active on boards. Until recently, he did his own housework. He speaks with his two sons regularly, though not every day. He has lived through many changes, but none quite so alienating, he speculated, as the information highway.

“I just don’t belong here,” Bragg said. “I pick up a magazine and read the ads, and I don’t know what they’re advertising most of the time. It’s baffling.”

He also expressed another difficulty of living a long life: watching his close friends pass away. Only one friend is left from his childhood circle.

“It isn’t much fun,” Bragg warned of old age. “My kids wanted me to celebrate my 90th birthday, and I said: No thank you. I wouldn’t recommend it to anybody.” He paused. “I am very, very fortunate. I haven’t lost my wits.” Another pause. “It’s people who keep me going. That’s what makes life worth living.”

True, said another nonagenarian.

Catharine Lebowitz has lived alone most of her 91 years. She has worked most of her life, lives on Social Security and a pension, but doesn’t have money to throw around. Extra cash goes for attending the performing arts or making small, civic donations.

This winter, she kept her house cooler than usual to save money. “I’m not there much anyway,” said Lebowitz, who regularly shows up at Bangor International Airport to greet troops returning from or heading to Iraq. “But I can’t overspend because I don’t know what I’ll need in the future.” Although she does not think she could afford to live in a community for seniors, she would not want to anyway: “I don’t want to be in any other living arrangement. I like to put my foot on my own land. And I would still mow that land if I could.”

Lebowitz drives, but not at night, which makes her reliant on other drivers for any evening events such as “The Will Rogers Follies,” which she recently attended at the Maine Center for the Arts in Orono. Her biggest fear is the possible loss of sight. That would compromise her theatergoing as well as her reading, which is already diminishing, in part because she is so busy – just try catching her at home.

But even the loss of sight hasn’t curbed the vigor of an 86-year-old Bangor retiree, who became blind a few years ago because of macular degeneration. As with several women interviewed for this article, she asked not to be identified because she is aware that elderly people living alone can be targets for theft, harassment and thuggery. Blindness came as a surprise, the woman said, but living alone didn’t.

“It was a way of life for me anyway,” she said. “The most horrible thing I could conceive would be living in a place where I would have to share a room. I like living alone.”

Another Bangor woman, who is 92, living on Social Security and a modest pension, was recently in a hospital and nursing home while recovering from an illness. Now she is back in her home, where she can stand upright just long enough to make breakfast. She relies on Meals for Me for lunch.

“A nursing home would not be my choice,” she said. “A girl comes in and does laundry and errands. She takes me to the grocery store because I don’t drive. I use a walker. But I don’t go in with her. I stay in the car. I read quite a bit. Just taking care of your personal affairs keeps you busy. But I’m slow. It takes about all of my time to do nothing.” Here she chuckled and added: “It’s not that bad.”

In fact, it should be good news to Maine’s newest older Americans.

“Retirement is going to be a word with very little meaning in the years ahead,” said Lenard Kaye, the social gerontologist at UM. “It will no longer be in our vocabulary. These are folks destined to remain extremely active. They are quite comfortable advocating for themselves. This is a generation that will not go quietly into the night.”

Alicia Anstead can be reached at 990-8266 and aanstead@bangordailynews.net.

BANGOR DAILY NEWS PHOTO BY BRIDGET BROWN

Eunice Leighton (left) of Brewer kisses her older sister Doris Landman goodbye after dropping off Lanman’s lunch at her Bangor apartment. “I think I’m doing pretty well for an old hen,” Landman says.