The world is crazier than most people know. But I know. I was a clinical social worker for forty years. I am a witness. I retired from social work to write about the sad, the mad, and the savage; with whom I have spent most of my life. I have decided to translate these stories into fiction, because, as a co-worker once said, "You couldn't make this sh*t up. No one would believe you."

Saturday, July 24, 2010

HA HA HA THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COIN


I am so happy my mouth has two sides. Like most baby boomers, I have expertise in talking out of both. Now after my rant about looking young, I will mention two of the best looking people I have ever seen:



  • ·      The man: 81. Truth! He had just come back from hiking up Sandia Crest in Albuquerque, and his dog looked way more tired than he did. He was tall and broad, solid as a brick wall, had thick white hair, and looked at you with a keen eye. Ruff!
  • ·      The woman: in her late seventies, sitting down after a long swim in a lake in northern Vermont, barely winded. I remember praying to God that I could look like her when I was her age. She had an hourglass figure and was still firm and solid, and her face was beautiful even with wrinkles. Somehow on her they looked good.

Let’s face it, we’ll all be eighty-five someday. And maybe when we are, beauty changes from sex appeal to strength. Both the people mentioned above looked healthy and strong. They looked like people to be taken seriously. So maybe the thing I’m scared of in aging is not so much looking ugly, as looking (being) weak.

Truth be told, that’s what “old” is supposed to mean: a “little” old lady = weak, bent, feeble. “Geezer”= bent, wasted, feeble. Uh…I think the key word here is feeble.

Well, boomers redefine aging. Why do we ever have to get feeble? Personally, I plan to look like the two seniors above. If I can’t stand up on the subway I won’t ride it; I’ll take a cab. But I bet I’ll be able to stand until the final Fall Down. And when some crazy kid tries to still my purse, I just might pull my 9 millimeter out of it and ask him if this is the path he really wants to  
follow.

Folks, I think aging baby boomers might be a whole new breed of oldstas.

When I was young, I was a mighty bitch. And I still am, hallelujah!

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