I took one of the online tests that determine one's real age. I don't smoke, have lost some weight, and don't live on beer and martinis. Actually exercising, as opposed to just thinking about it, and eating more veggies had to be factored in too. Guess what? I'm only 48! I sure hope someone tells the heavenly record keepers and that they aren't planning on recouping those years early.
Conversely it seems to me that children these days are in such a hurry to grow up they are losing some years on the lower end. They don't get to loll around much. Stimulate their little minds with Baby Einstein. Six months old and it is time for Mom and Me classes. I am not saying these things are bad; you should see how clever my great niece and nephews are. They blow me away with language and innocence and I wouldn't have it any other way. But I also see little girls wearing high heels and ruining their backs and I am not crazy about twelve year olds wearing "Juicy" across their rear ends. (But that is an essay for another day.)
When I was 48 I went on strike and had the time of my life. Organizing, rallying, spending time on the picket line and helping out wherever I could. Within a few months of returning to work I was fired. I could have fought it, and maybe won, but I was determined to get out of food service before age 50. Banquet serving was golden handcuffs, good wages but no life. At the time I was living on ibuprofen, taking it before, during, and after work. My feet felt at least 75, but boy did I have some muscles! These days the feet are mostly fine, although long walks on marble floors tell me they are the same feet that bothered me at 17 when I first saw a foot doctor or 23 when I cried after a waitressing shift. Within months of leaving banquets I was able to wear normal shoes.
It is twelve years later. I am almost 61 and looking for a job again. I look pretty good, but not 40, maybe a mature 50. No one tells me they can't believe I'm 60. Believe it baby. Yet I have decided not to let the number get me down. Yes there is ageism; you'd better believe there is. And yes the economy is not the best, but people are getting new and better jobs. Granted these are people in their mid thirties. Their determination, research, and networking skills have gotten them interviews and subsequent hires. I am inspired by them. Wish me luck, but send me ideas too. I've got a lot to give and can't consider retiring for at least five more years.
The idea behind this blog was to make fun of the aging process and how ridiculous the whole thing is. Our nostrils get big and earlobes longer. I think my nose is growing. Won't it be funny when all those people with all that work done have long earlobes too? No wonder you never see their ears, the lobes don't lie. Excuse me while I examine my shell-like ears in a mirror. Are they scallop, oyster, or conch?
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