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."

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

I AM YOUNGSTA


It’s not that my self esteem is low (I am sometimes accused of the opposite), but I do seem to be a square peg in a round hole a lot of the time. Maybe this is the boomer curse.

I mean, most people my age look a lot older than I do. Most people my age work out gently; I work out the same as I did when I was thirty five (Wait---when I was thirty five I was too cool and cute to work out---okay say forty five). Most people my age are sedate. I still want to howl, at least now and then.

When I was in my forties and got divorced, more people than I could count were suggesting that I should date someone younger. The term “cougar” hadn’t even been invented yet, and I was being encouraged to scout the youngstas.

Maybe they realized that I was young for my age, and even looked young for my age. People today tell me I look young for my age and I haven’t even had the big LIFT yet (they key word being “yet”). Once I got carded when I was 48.

I still dress in jeans and T-shirts and always will. Why can’t I fit in?

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