Saturday, October 4, 2014

                                                                      AGE CREEP

      If you are under 45, then stop reading now. If not, you probably experience occasional feelings of “age creep.” By the time you are in your seventh decade like yours truly, acute denial is a given. There is nothing “cute” about denial, trust me. If there was ever any doubt about my youth, it was quickly erased when I watched a videotape of a solo performance I gave last night.

     The camera person was 13, and my make-up came from the fake patent leather “gift-with-purchase” bag from Clinique. The sound came only from my voice--no mikes, no reverb machines, and the florescent lights blinded me as I sputtered out my first words.




      The camera baby didn’t have a clue which angle flattered my aging face or how far away I was. She just pushed the tiny red button and voilà. The good news was that there were no close-up face shots so from far away it looked like I smiled much more than I did. The chunk of granola that I thought I’d swallowed from the top of my .99 yogurt parfait did not show where it was lodged horizontally between my front teeth. yay.

     I tell myself that my hollow cheeks were shadows, the brown flecks on my neck were film shavings, and the reason I looked like a skeleton was because I was wearing black.
Yeah, right.

    Now some might say, “Why would you put yourself out there like that (especially at your age)? Good question. Because once I stop doing that, my age is truly creepy.