Tuesday, March 8, 2016


Left  42/Right 60th surprise/left 70th no surprise

          72 is the new 68!

     You kids in your 40s are laughing; that is, those of you who even bothered to click on the blog site. (Thanks, btw) Yup, 72 is the new 68. You might wonder just what this means. This means that every effen four years is crucial to the ego and the attitude.
My sassy attitude has needed adjustment since 1954, but that’s a whole other story.

    When you turn 40, you feel “old” for the first time. That is, until you turn 41 when no one gives a shit, and then you feel invisible. When you get over that and turn 50, you may fall into deep depression. wtf. Fifty? Are you kiddin’ me? Fifty? Fifty is like 12 to people my age. You can still have affairs at 50. You can still touch your toes with one smooth movement, and you can still drink until after midnight and have real honest-to-goodness hangovers. (After a certain age, you don’t know if you’re hung over or if you are just over.)

    And then the big 60 rears its ugly head. Some people when they hit 60 start writing their last will and testament, they reserve a space at the “home,” they plan a trip to Banff, and they start eating Raisin Bran. omg. All this is ridiculous. Everyone knows that Raisin Bran doesn’t have enough fiber. 

    Then the big 7. . . 0 comes along. Yup. Now that’s a challenging number, but only if you have aches and pains. I can still touch my toes (maybe not with as graceful a motion, but I still have all 10 of them). I do have a will and testament, but it’s in my lingerie drawer next to my 8 x 10s of Elvis and Tom Brady. I could have an affair if I wanted. It’s just that the guy might not want it, unless he just wanted to do it by text. I can still drink until after midnight; it’s just that I can’t start until 11:30. 

     Yes, Virginia. 72 is the new 68. At 68, I couldn’t spell “mature,” and now I are it.