Growing old with Indiana
Awhile back, my son gave Dan a Father’s Day card that plays the “Raiders of the Lost Ark” theme. Before embarking on his adventures, Dan cracks open the greeting and treats us to a mini concert. But its battery shows signs of wear, and lately Indy sounds like he needs a dose of Geritol.
I know how he feels. Another birthday lurks on the horizon and I’m tired just thinking about it. Not sure when I started dreading them, but dread them, I do. My hubby, who actually likes being fiftysomething, does not agree with that sentiment.
“It’s just a number,” he says.
“Yeah, but it’s a big number,” I reply.
A lot of people share my thoughts on aging. I read an anonymous blog by a guy who said he got to “thinking about life and how things have changed and we’re getting older.” Amen, I thought to myself, and kept reading. That is, until he mentioned that he just 23.
In an effort to prove I’m not over the hill, I still do things I once did but they take me longer now. Kind of like playing an old 45 record at 33-1/3. Using an analogy like that dates me, too.
Oh sure, I still get the urge to kick up my heels. When the radio plays a tune from the 70s, I’ll shake my booty if I’m alone in the kitchen. But nine times out of 10, I poop out before the song ends.
What a contrast to the “Sweet 16” party I attended recently for a beautiful young woman.
The energy in the room was almost palpable. In the midst of those enthusiastic teens, I felt more like a “Sour 61”.
That doesn’t mean I can let myself go though. I still apply makeup, but given my failing eyesight, it doesn’t necessarily land in the right places.
There are days I look like abstract art. Serves me right for smiling at old ladies whose lipstick trespassed beyond their lips.
As much as I hate aging, at least I have someone to grow old with, though his hearing is on the wane. I tried telling Dan a joke the other day but had to repeat key points so much, it lost its humor.
He also has trouble with his “psychotic” nerve. Nevertheless, he’s still an adventure waiting to happen. Just like Indiana.