Wasted Youth

My friend recently asked what was probably meant to be a rhetorical question, but I'm fixin to answer it anyway.  That'll teach her.  She wanted to know what was good about aging.

Here are some of my favs in no certain order:

1. Free senior coffee at Chick Fil A, 25% discount at GoodWill on Tuesdays, and senior discounts in general.
2. Enjoying other people's children now and then. Mostly then.
3. Understanding the phrase "I've forgotten more about that than you know."
4. AARP
5. Telling young people about my experience at Woodstock (even though I wasn't there.)
6. Finally having an excuse for forgetfulness.
7. Natural platinum blonde highlights
8. Being OK with me.
9. Freedom to be flat honest (blunt? tactless?) when the occasion calls for it and knowing that I get to decide when that is.
10. Being fearless.  I mean, whatcha gonna do, kill me?  Pffftt, you gotta come up with something better than that! 
11. Old friends
12. Understanding more than I have need to explain.
13. Peace

If I had a dollar for every time I said or thought, "If I knew then what I know now. . . " I'd be able to retire someday.  But nobody is going to give me a dollar for that.  (Too bad, because I could really stretch those bucks at GoodWill on Tuesdays.)  The point is, youth truly is wasted on the young.

There's no getting around the fact that age does some wicked, wicked things to physical bodies.  It's a good thing that with age, we often figure out that we're more than just our bodies.

Tapestry

I think this was first published Tueday, August 19, 1997 in the Clinton Daily Journal, but that may have been the second printing. I’m not sure. The editor titled it.

THE WISDOM OF AN EASIER TIME. . . . .

What a treat. I bought a new c.d. today.
Actually I have the album, but I haven’t played albums for so long, I’m not sure my equipment works. I bought Carole King’s Tapestry. It’s playing as I type this. (I sort of feel like a traitor since I always have Eric on when I write.)

One million years ago, when I was in high school, I sometimes went home for lunch so that I could lie on the floor in front of the speakers (which were about as big as I was) and listen to Carole King. Actually it was more like absorbing Carole King. That woman wrote so many songs about me that it was almost embarrassing. I was sure that any moment she was going to come through the door and adopt me or at least take me on the road with her. (I though it would be a great way to meet James Taylor!) I can’t explain how much I loved her music. And let’s face it, she is one of the best musical poets the world has ever known.

But I hadn’t listened to Carole King for a long time. A very, very long time. I was in a music store looking for more Eric Clapton when I saw Tapestry.

Someone had put it back in the wrong place or maybe it was kismet. So I brought it home and put it in and by golly, I sang along with every single song! I didn’t know I still knew those songs. They are part of me, I guess.

But something even stranger than remembering the words to classic songs happened. Those songs that Carole King sang about me when I was sixteen are still about me. They made me happy and sad. They made me remember wonderful times and they made me homesick, too. I mean, sometimes I wonder if I’m ever gonna make it home again, it’s so far and out of sight.

I’m not sure why the song, Tapestry made sense to me when I was sixteen. How many bits of blue and gold did I actually have then? I’m sure I hadn’t yet glimpsed the drifter passing by at that age though I can describe him in detail now.

And I’m absolutely sure that I really didn’t know anyone who made me feel like a natural woman when I was sixteen. Oh, sure, I felt the sky tumbling down and my heart tremble a few times, but I can’t really say I’d ever felt like a natural woman.

But I knew some people who truly did have a friend, myself included. I had really good friends then.

We’d drive around the lake and sing along with the radio. When we heard Tonight with words unspoken you say that I’m the only one. . . will you still love me tomorrow? We’d yell back, “No!” We knew better than to trust our boyfriends farther than we could throw them. They’ll hurt you and desert you. . . .etc ..” We were wise. Life was simple then. We knew the rules.

What happened to my friends from that world? We were so close. Doesn’t anybody stay in one place anymore? It would be so fine to see their faces at my door.

Nick would break up with What’s-his-name and we’d shake our heads knowingly singing, Something inside has died and I can’t hide and I just can’t fake it.

We actually were high on life.

We really did get up every morning with smiles on our faces and we really did show the world all the love in our hearts. Somewhere we always had shelter from hunger and cold. We knew the shelter. We didn’t know the cold. It was a garden of wisdom in some long ago dream.

Could it be that I don’t remember it all clearly? If that’s true please don’t tell me. It’s taken me more than a couple of years to perfect these memories and I don’t want anybody messing with them. Let me just absorb the music. It makes me feel so good inside. You know, Carole, you make me feel so alive.

This was the best $13 I’ve spent in a long, long time. I guess my equipment is working after all.

Beverly. My heart smiles.

Ok, so I went to Pet Smart to meet a Chihuahua from a shelter. However, this black, 8-ish year old dog was in a cage looking oh, so sad. Her 75-year old human had been killed in an auto accident and her human sister lives in an apartment and couldn't take her.

I held her once and it was all over.

She is calm, smart, house trained, loving, and she has a tiny bit of an underbite that just makes her all that more endearing. She likes her fenced in backyard and the house and doesn't go too far from me. She is a great communicator, though I've not heard her bark.

While picking up a few essentials in PetSmart, a woman came up to me sobbing and hugged me. She told me that she was this dog's human's daughter and was so greatful that I was going to give her a good home. She was afraid that because of her age no one would want her.

Here we go with that age thing again. This fine lady has a lot of puppy love left in her. She makes my heart smile. While typing this she jumped down from the bed and came back with a chewy in her mouth and asked to be lifted back to the bed. I'm pretty well trained already.

Beverly has been through a lot and has come out with wisdom, love, and grace. I have a lot to learn from her. I am so lucky that she came home with me!

My husband is away on business, but I've told him about her and emailed a picture. He is understanding and once he meets her in person, he'll be hooked. How could anyone not be?

Year may be left blank

You don't have to tell people how old you are if your profile. You can leave the year blank if you'd like. I suppose you could lie, too. My daughter accused me of being 25 for 25 years, and I have to admit that I used to tell people I was a few (uh-hem) years younger than I was.

When we were kids we wanted to be older. When we were 15, we couldn't wait to be 16. Then 18, then 21, and then, sometime around age 25 we started wanting to be 22 again. What a bloomin' waste of time.

I have 54 years! There are lots of good, adventurous years included in those. In fact, they are all keepers. Some of them were more fun than others. In fact, at least a few of them were really painful. But since they brought me to this lovely rainy autumn day I wouldn't want to change them - not that I'm likely to be given the chance to change the past any time soon.

Why is it that young people think it's better to be young? I understand that there is a biological urge to have sex with healthy-looking prospective parents of our future children, but somewhere along the line, we come to the conclusion that age ain't so bad. When people tell me that I don't look as old as I am, my mind stutters as I try to take it as a compliment. If we really appreciate age, what is wrong with looking our age? Older, even? As a matter of fact, what does it mean to look your age? It doesn't make any more sense than acting your age.

This is what 54 looks like and this is what 54 acts like. Perfect just as I am and in need of a little improvement. I'm hot, let's face it.

Take heart, Children. Have hope. There is a good chance you will get to be 54, too. And there's every reason to believe I'm going to one day be a bright, charming, sexy 84 year old. Maybe I'll take up painting. Maybe I'll become humble.

I remember my grandmother saying, "Oh, you young people think you invented sex!" I can remember as a youngin' figuring out how old I'd be at the turn of the century and deciding that I'd be far too old to celebrate. I was 45. I was not too old (blushing.) I am still not too old. It's a well kept Boomer secret (and I hope I don't get kicked out for revealing it) that things don't even start getting juicy until about 45, when you no longer have to even consider that biological urge to reproduce and can concentrate on the fun stuff. In fact, I hope to be just hitting my prime every moment for the rest of my life.