Marking a middle-age milestone while watching the country ungracefully grow old

I am a bicentennial baby in the throes of perimenopause. Spirit of ‘76, baby. The United States is a young democracy, and I am becoming, ahem, a woman of a certain age. My social media feed alternates between the latest doomsday political scenario to vitamins promising to tame belly fat more stubborn than a toddler at bedtime. Columnists bug Columnists In-depth political coverage, sports analysis, entertainment reviews and cultural commentary. This is another turning-50 column…