What Happens When Old Lefties Get Older

Yesterday I wore the button I got 50 years ago at the March on Wshington for Jobs and Freedom.  It elicited only three comments, which surprised me.

Either people on the Metro etc. had no idea what it was or were too polite to ask, or I'm invisible.

I'd like to think it was a matter of context--people didn't expect to see this old broad in bermuda shorts, sandals and a Tilley hat wearing a button from such a major event.

But maybe it really is a matter of the young(er) population choosing not to see their elders.  In that case, maybe I should carry a sign reading: "In my head, I'm really 19." Which is the truth.