Turn on the television and a good chunk of the programs today are reality shows stocked with tan, buff and beautiful 20-somethings who scheme, rob, lie and attempt to outwit, out-sing or out-cook their competition.

What you won't find are senior citizens, unless you count the token elder whom the younger players descend on like a pack of hyenas, a sacrificial lamb for the baby boomer generation. Even with 70 being the new 50 and facelifts as common as a neighborhood Starbucks, old age has no cool factor.

As a general rule, someone you consider "old" has 30 years on you. This is a sliding scale, as the younger you are the less old the other person needs to be. This explains the alarm parents feel when their 16-year-old high school daughter is going out with an 18-year-old college freshman, or conversely the indignation of 55-year-olds when they qualify for a senior's discount.

There are three stages of life when birthdays matter. From 4 to 12 it's all pirate and princess parties, presents and the dream of owning a pony (guaranteed to be plastic with a purple mane in 99 percent of cases). Teens wait with anticipation for that magical "legal age" when consuming alcoholic beverages can be done in public instead of skulking in the dark corners of the garage, next to dad's old workbench.

Then there's that age when birthdays are a reminder to schedule a prostate, mammogram and colonoscopy scan. It's like how the onset of daylight savings time is a reminder to change the batteries in our smoke detectors. Decorative pill boxes suddenly zoom past chocolates as the ideal gift.

While adrenaline junkies in their 20s and 30s live on the edge by skydiving, bull riding and scuba diving in shark-infested waters, risky behavior for those 60 and above means arriving at the restaurant five minutes before the "early bird special" ends. The rush you get at eating just before 5:25 pm is almost worth the heartburn you suffer later when you turn out the lights at 9 pm.

Even with the advent of products specially geared for the graying generation, there hasn't been much of an entrepreneurial push to capture this burgeoning market segment. Like, for instance, the fast food sector. As high fiber and soft food are the twin pillars of retirement community diet, we're just waiting for McDonald's to roll out the lima bean bacon special. And come on Dairy Queen, who wants cookies and cream when a "prune blizzard" tastes good and does good things to us?

The "greatest generation", those in their 70s and above, have like their forebears accepted aging with dignity. Dressed in woolen cardigans, elastic waist pants and thick rubber-soled shoes, they're a safe, easily identifiable part of society that we comfortably overtake on the sidewalks or on the road.

But fear the spearhead of the baby boomer generation; those in their 60s whose rebel days of Woodstock and the Rolling Stones not only linger but thrive like classic rock on satellite radio. Mini-skirts, studded Harley Davidson leather jackets and stilettos are part of their everyday wear, albeit with the addition of heavy duty gel insoles tucked into their Manolo Blahniks. Not wanting to wear that scarlet "A" (for aged) on their foreheads, boomer grandparents have dumped the good old-fashioned "grandma and grandpa" for the more age-neutral poppy, glamma and Alice.

Gone too are the days when mom or dad would move in with their adult children. Now it's the other way around and boomer parents are fleeing in droves to "adults-only communities", where the age restrictions start at 55 and older; better to keep that boomerang son from taking over your crafts space and turning it into a rent-free bedroom.

So whether we put ourselves in the hands of doctors, trainers or downright quacks, the fountain of youth is a demanding taskmaster and the prize requires the strength and endurance that the young take for granted. Fight it or accept it, there's one thing that rings true: growing old isn't so bad when you consider the alternative.

The author is a Canadian freelance writer based in Beijing.