American happiness just hit a new low; don’t blame your parents

Lately I’ve been looking forward to turning 60 and celebrating with a slug of strong black coffee, the way I once aspired to turn 21 with a rum and Coke. Why? Because I’m retiring? I wish.

No, it’s the fact that, according to Gallup’s worldwide happiness rankings released March 19, I’ll join the ranks of some of the happiest people in the world: Americans over 60.

Admittedly, I don’t have a shot at Gallup’s all-ages happiness leader board unless I can somehow become Nordic. The most serene people on Earth are the Finns, Danes, Icelanders and Swedes. (So much for Nordic noir. The sun never sets on happiness up there.)

As a whole, our once-merry YankeeDoodle country has fallen off the top 20 list entirely. We’re at No. 23, well below such jolly places as Slovenia and Kuwait.

But American olds buck the national trend. We are in the top 10 for our age group! Which makes me, well, happy, that I’m not among the dread American youngs.

Poor dears, Americans under 30 are way down on the list of goodtime Charlies now, coming in after Dominicans, at No. 62. Evidently, they’re tense and sad, tossing and turning over things such as America’s leadership in the world and the U.S. economy.

Big mistake, though understandable. Maybe they just haven’t hung around long enough to know what bad leadership and a bad economy really looks like.

Those of us with 60 in our sights — coming or going — recall distinctly the four years during which the United States was led by the man historians rank the worst president in our history. The cannabis we use is evidently too weak to induce the powerful amnesia kids enjoy today.

Many of us are also “old enough to remember” the 18% inflation of 1980. President Joe Biden’s current (and probably dropping) 3.15% seems just fine in comparison.

And speaking of “just fine,” one thing you can achieve by about age 60 is a kind of tranquil indifference. Though Gallup doesn’t ask about it directly, it’s the real secret to happiness. The real bliss.

Does indifference sound like a downer, like apathy? It shouldn’t in many, even most, cases. It’s great. As you grow up, you care less how rich you are, how good at sports, how promising in the field of swimsuit modeling.

You move out beyond winning and losing, to a place that’s filled with word games and wildflowers and cold waffles and divorce.

We olds still possess bits and pieces of relationships and careers and muscle tone, some of which could command a hefty price at life’s “Antiques Roadshow” and some of which have turned out to be lovable junk. And it’s all just fine. Like 3.15% inflation.

It’s the post-young, pre-old years that are taxing. “As we get into our

30s and 40s, we’ve achieved [many of our goals],” Jonathan Rauch, who