AARP strikes fear and denial in 50-somethings

It started with this simple photo posted on Facebook by a friend with this comment: "Gift from AARP"

What followed was the best comment string I've read in a while. Here's a few choice ones:

• We are not that old yet!
• I'm 51 and refuse to join.....
• Actually joining has its benefits. It is not an "old fogey" org. lol
• I didn't get a free gift :( I did get my card though) I didn't want to join that club :)
• (From her twin sister) I am not eligible to join yet! You have to be 50 and over :)
• I got my card, bag, insurance...well what do you say? denial is not healthy. lol
• I love AARP and I use it all the time for hotels and rental cars. Been using it for years y'all!!
• AARP is a synonym for Senior Citizen. You're going to receive more junk mail for Seniors like crazy!
• All come on...it's beneficial and outside of that awful fanny pack...the benefits are GREAT! Even discounts at the movies. Besides. We're the NEW 50 somethings...I don't remember when I was young that 50 look as good as WE look. Ummmm maybe the phrase "when I was young". I wonder what we look like to 20 somethings?

I've been throwing membership mailings from the AARP in the trash for over four years now. Why such fear and denial? The AARP is more than benefits; they also lobby for older Americans. They are on our side, and will be even more so as we age. 

Yet collectively, when that dreaded membership mailing arrives just at our 50th birthdays (the first of many pitches to older people we are going to receive), we collectively scream in our heads or out loud, "BUT I'M NOT OLD YET! I DON'T LOOK LIKE MY PARENTS DID THEN. NOT AT ALL! I'M STILL HIP! NOOOOO!!!!"

Oh denial, you are such a sweet, kind friend.

Fellow baby boomers, we need to get over ourselves. We are there. We are on the young side of old. Most of us have grown kids. Many of us are grandparents. I know, it is harder to admit in our 50s and this is not a pitch to join the AARP (but I'm going to finally do it as soon as I finish this post -- after checking the website they do have great benefits and you can even get deals sent to your smart phone). I'm just saying don't be afraid of what it represents in our lives. 

Then put on your best club clothes and get out there and get your dance on. So what if kids your kids' ages (or younger) are filling the dance floor (or you bump into your actual kids there). 

Now that's not denial, that's living! 

Just make sure your heels aren't too high so you can walk the next day.

Arthritis (Grandma's Hands)

Arthritis you scourge. You twisted my grandma's hands and destroyed her hips. And now you've found me.

But the ache of you this morning makes me think of my grandma, gone now for over 25 years. She was the one person who loved me for me -- the willful, sensitive, smart, adventurous girl I was (and still am) -- she adored me unconditionally. My grandma helped me get through. The ache of her absence is stronger, still, than any pain in my hands.

On this hot and humid morning, my sore hands evoke my grandma, which evokes Bill Withers and his haunting, soulful "Grandma's Hands."

My grandma holding my son a year or so before she passed.
  

Grandma's hands...

Here is a fabulous live performance of that song at Carnegie Hall (with an unfortunate negative comment relating to same sex love before he sings, but go on and listen to the song anyway). For all of us with grandmas who changed our lives for the better. Love.

Then and Now

I've noticed that many of my forty-something friends don't like it when I lumped them into "middle age." They are in their final years where they can claim being on the older side of young, and are not yet ready to face (claim?) what's ahead. Here's why:




And one for the guys:
Now each of these celebrities looks great, then and now. But those of us who are their age just have the hardest time admitting we are that old, too. Even though we are glad to be alive. Even though we look good, too. It's a thing. In our heads we think we look how we did then. Celeb photos like these shock us into reality. If you are there, you get it. If not, wait a few years and you'll understand.

And let's keep it real. My own then and now:

Age 24
Age 54
And last fall for a drag show I channeled what's coming in a couple of decades:
(All of these examples show the wrinkly-prone aging of white folks, thanks to our lack of melanin. The comparison of aging across skin color -- now that's another post for another day.)

Related posts:

I feel bad about my neck, too
P!nk is my inner doppleganger
Dory is my new hero but I can't remember why
Why did Dove's Pro Age campaign fail?
I wanna be like Nikki Giovanni when I'm 65
I forget to remember I had breast cancer
"It's Complicated" -- A plausible romantic comedy for aging baby boomers

"It's Complicated" -- a plausible romantic comedy for aging baby boomers

My spouse and I (we married three years ago at mid life -- a detail important to this review) trudged out in the snow and ice on Christmas Day to see "It's Complicated," a romantic comedy starring Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin, and Steve Martin. And guess what, my fellow over-50 people, it works! It's plausible! It's hilarious! The characters are sexy in a way that fits for their age; they reveal their aging bodies in a way that is charming, self aware, and not at their expense (a chubby Baldwin, sagging eyelids on Streep). They make poor dating/sex decisions and get their hopes dashed and feelings hurt as a result, just like older people who are dating do. (Yes, some things never change. What is it about sex and romance that can make us lose our minds, whether we are 25 or 55?)

Even though the characters all had a lot more money than me, were heterosexual, their adult kids were well adjusted (actually a little too well adjusted), and everyone was white, I knew their story. As someone who got divorced, dated throughout her forties, and married in her 50s, I could envision myself in the story. "It's Complicated" is not some misguided fantasy about what's possible at mid-life and beyond; it's a very funny comedy about what -- indeed -- is possible.

The audience included mostly aging baby boomers like me, but there was a decent showing of under thirties, too. I wanted to ask them what they thought. Did they imagine their parents as they watched the movie? Was it plausible to them? My twenty-something kids have a hard time wrapping their arms around the fact that I still like to go out and dance, fall in love, have and like sex, and that it's not gross or over the hill -- it's simply living!

Dory is my new hero but I can't remember why

Quick, before I forget...

My brain is slowly disintegrating, especially my memory. A good friend calls it CRS or "Can't Remember Shit." If you are with me on this, no need to explain the details. If you aren't there yet, really you don't want to know... but it's coming your way, some day -- one of the many gifts of aging.

But something special happened today. I was having a typical CRS moment at a staff meeting, stumbling through trying to remember the name of a staff member (not in attendance thankfully -- that happens, too), and his department, both which I should know well.

Then suddenly, in mid brain scramble, like an angel of mercy, Dory popped into my head and smiled sympathetically at me. (Dory, in case you've forgotten, is the plucky memory-disabled fish played by Ellen Degeneres in Finding Nemo).

So I stopped trying to remember anything, laughed and told the group, "Forgive me, my memory is shot. I'm just like Dora!" While, almost. I forget, but maybe. Wait! Now I remember! Dora is that little short kid I've written about in this blog before. Dory is my new hero for mid-life.

I think.

Aging is essential to living

Me at 22, 32, 42, and 52 (12 and 2 coming if I can find any)

This is not self-indulgent. This is not about aging "well" or "not well." It is simply an illustation of life. We are born. We grow. We die. How many decades of photos we can compile is a mixture of chance, genes, and grace.

Bea Arthur: Maude was (much) younger than I am now

Bea Arthur:
At 50 as "Maude" in the early 70s
At 54 with her then-husband Gene Saks
A very sassy 65 in 1988
At 86 in 2009.
Me dancing while celebrating my 53rd birthday, 2009.

Thinking about Bea Arthur on the occasion of her passing on April 24 at age 86. While watching a nice segment about her the next day on CBS Sunday Morning I was surprised to realize that one of her most famous characters, "Maude," was 47, five years younger than I am now, when she made her famous decision to get an abortion in 1972 (the year Roe v Wade passed). I remember thinking she was so old when watching that episode all those years ago!

So, curious, I did a little research and the math. Bea Arthur was actually 50 in 1972 when Maude debuted, three years older than her character. I was 16 then. Bea was three years younger than I am now and her character was six years younger.

I have become the so old of my teenage perspective and but am not really old yet at all.

If I live as long and full of a life as Bea Arthur did (which I plan to do), I will reach 86 in 2042, which is 33 years from now. That's a whole lot of living yet to do!

Birthday playlist for aging baby boomers

Since I am a self-proclaimed wannabe DJ, I thought I'd share this mix. I made it for my 50th birthday a few years ago, and have since burned versions of it for several other friends' 50th birthdays. Enjoy!

Half a Century!

Happy Birthday Stevie Wonder
Ngiculela - Es Una Historia - I Am Singing Stevie Wonder
I Just Want to Celebrate Rare Earth
Funkin' for Jamaica Tom Browne
I Love the Nightlife (Disco 'Round) Alicia Bridges
Pick Up the Pieces Average White Band
Dancing Machine Jackson 5
P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) Michael Jackson
Rock With You Michael Jackson
Boogie Oogie Oogie A Taste of Honey (my personal theme song)
Boogie on Reggae Woman Stevie Wonder
As Stevie Wonder
Love And Happiness Al Green
Let's Stay Together Al Green
Sweet Thing Rufus feat. Chaka Khan
For the Love of You Isley Brothers ("Our" song -- my wuzband and me)
Three Little Birds Bob Marley
One Love Bob Marley
Here Comes the Sun Beatles
Forever Young Bob Dylan

I wanna be like Nikki Giovanni when I'm 65

Nikki Giovanni, back in the day and now

Last night I saw Nikki Giovanni at a Talking Volumes event (links to the audio of the event) at the Fitzgerald Theater in St. Paul. I have loved Giovanni for over a quarter of a century. She writes and speaks The Truth. And she's funny as hell.

I became a huge Giovanni fan in my early twenties, which was during the late 70's (yes, that's how long ago a quarter of a century is). My favorite poem back then, "Rituals," from her 1972 collection, My House, is still a favorite today. An excerpt:

..."wedding rituals have always intrigued me
and i'd swear to friends i wouldn't say goddam not even
once no matter what neither would i give a power
sign but would even comb my hair severely
back and put that blue shit under my eyes
i swear i always wanted to be in a wedding."

Last time I saw her perform was in 1989. I know this because I have an autographed copy of her first book of poetry for children, Vacation Time. I asked her to autograph it for my son, then aged five. It took 15 years, however, to get him interested in Giovanni, when I shared All Eyez on U with him, a poem dedicated to Tupac (2Pac) Shakir (the poem is in her award-winning 1997 collection Love Poems). Here's an excerpt:

..."I saw them murder Emmett Till I saw them murder Malcolm X
I saw them murder
Martin Luther King
I witnessed them shooting Rap Brown I saw them beat LeRoi Jones
I saw them fill their jails I see them burning churches
not me
never me
I do not believe this is some sort of mouth action
This is some sort of political action and they picked well
they picked the brightest freshest fruit from the tallest tree
what a beautiful boy
but he will not go away
as Malcolm did not go away
as Emmett Till did not go away..."

Thanks to that one poem, my son and I, 26 years apart in age, are now both Giovanni fans, and she helped deepen our ongoing conversations about rap and hip hop. That's one of the many reasons I love her. She is always fiercely relevant.

The blogger 9 to 5 Poet has a great summary of last night's event, which was a both an interview and some poetry reading. When you read that summary you will learn, if you didn't already know, that Giovanni has a tattoo on her arm that says "Thug Life" in honor of Tupac, who she embraces as a poet for our time. Not a lot of folks who are over 60 -- or over 40 or over 50 -- could pull that off (both the poem and the tattoo) with authenticity, but she does. The high school kids in the audience loved her, and so did the rest of us.

I like to find women who are ten or more years older than me who I can point to and say, "that's how I want to be as I age." Nikki's on my list. Check out Giovanni and some other amazing African American women writing on midlife in Age Ain't Nothing but a Number: Black Women Explore Midlife.

Her most recent poetry collection, Bicycles: Love Poems is just out. An excerpt from one of the poems, "Your Shower:"

I wish Icould be

Your Shower

I would bubble

Your hair

Tickle my way

Down to your lips

Across your shoulders

And over your back...

I wanna be like Nikki Giovanni when I'm 65. I wanna want to be somebody's shower. That sensual. That alive.

Don't shop for glasses alone

I've been waiting to get new glasses for over a year.

It began in Nov. 2007 when our puggle Cookie took my very cute (and expensive) glasses from on top of a table and chewed them up. This was during her reign of terror period, where nothing was safe from her drive to destroy. Puggles are cute, but they are a breeding experiment run afoul. Pug + Beagle = cute = naughty naughty.

Here is a picture of Cookie, and a boot she destroyed:

Here is a picture of my old cute glasses, pre-chewed:

I've worn glasses since I was seven, so that should be your clue that I needed to get new glasses quickly. Forshadowing the disaster of a year that was ahead for me, I decided to get "plain" glasses, something different than my usual choice of funky, full of personality glasses. I chose some affordable, conservative, rimless glasses. Within three months (past the point of return), I hated them. I thought they made me look dull and dorky.

Here is a picture of those nice, but dull glasses:

I buy glasses using my health care flex spending account through work. It's your money, but it's taken out of your paycheck pre-tax dollars. So it's like a loan with no interest, and one that lowers your gross taxable income! It's how I justify spending (and am able to spend) $500 or more on glasses. (It's not just the frames, but the lenses. I am near sighted, far sighted and have astigmatism). The wireless ones were cheaper, but that was still my glasses alottment for the year.

So I've been waiting not patiently for 2009 to use my new flex care dollars and get some new specs! I went to the Uptown area of Minneapolis, a trendy spot chocked full of "eyewear" shops. Full of hope. Needing a pick-me-up.

It was a disaster. Every time I looked in a mirror, instead of seeing glasses, I saw a very middle aged woman, past her prime, not cute, not funky, entering the deteriorating side of age. Sixty frames later, I texted my friend Lynette , "I look old and ragged and horrible. There are no glasses that will be cute on me ever again," and headed for home.

As I was getting in my car, my phone rang. It was Lynette. "Honey where are you, I'm parking. You need help."

We met at eyedeals, an "eyewear" store with very spendy, amazingly fabulous glasses. Lynette sat me down. The very helpful Tyler was at our service. We explained that I was was shaken by my glasses shopping experience and that Lynette had come to rescue me. Next thing I knew Tyler was bringing cute frame after cute frame for me to try. They ALL looked good on me. We had to decide between cute, cuter, and cutest! I was delirious with choice. We gathered all the shoppers in the store -- a threesome of gay men (thank you Minneapolis, for being so fabulously queer) and two random straight (I think) women. We voted on the top four choices. And it was unanimous! I had my new glasses.

Here they are (and they are even cuter and funkier than they are in this picture):

And here is Lynette, who rescued me from myself:

Lessons learned: 1. Never shop for glasses alone. 2. Call Lynette. She'll help.

Update Jan. 31

Lesson 3: Don't be swayed by popular opinion

I got my glasses about a week later. They weren't as great as I remembered -- too thick and boxy. They made me look serious. And the bows were transluscent, casting an orange glow all around my eyes. So I went back and got my second choice, which I picked up today and love. And the truth is, I liked them best the first go around. It was a $90 reminder to trust your gut and don't be swayed by popular opinion.

Latecomer blogger -- let me introduce myself

Welcome to my brand new blog! Let me introduce myself. I am a 52 year old artist, connector and wannabe DJ. I am also a mother and grandmother and queer girl extraordinaire. Got legally married to my handsome wuzband in MA 2 1/2 years ago. I am the white girl in a brown family and a mostly brown community of friends. So my life crosses a lot of interesting intersections. I am going to blog about those intersections and more.

For example, I will surely be blogging about what it's like to be a whitegirl in my world, some of the things I've learned along the way, and how the world looks through the lens of my specific eyes -- which are near sighted, far sighted, and full of astigmatism -- so it's sometimes an interesting worldview.

I will likely blog about what it means for me that our new president is biracial, and was raised by a white mother and white grandparents given that I raised two biracial kids. I could say a lot about that. A lot. But not now, later. This is my intro blog.

I am very interested in blogging about getting older. That could be the topic of most of my blogs. I did not realize I was passing out of regular adulthood into older adulthood until I was almost 50. Seriously. I was still a regular club goer and general merry maker. I had no idea I was shifting into the young side of the golden years until I realized most of the people in the clubs were the age of my kids -- until I ran into my actual kids in the clubs. I'm just sayin. I was shocked into reality.

So aging has become a subject of endless fascination for me as I really have no idea what it means to be getting older but I do know I am extremely happy to be alive, having survived a lot so far. Aging thought for the day: Billions in advertising dollars are spent each year to tell women how to look younger. What if those same dollars went into telling us how to live better?

Oh, and I stay up on world events and feel compelled to opine from time to time. My favorite TV show ever is "The Wire." That's the kind of stuff you might find me blogging about here. Politics. Race relations. The media. Poverty. Prison reform. Father's rights. The needs of undocumented people. You know, light fluffy stuff.

I love music and am an armchair critic. So I'll tell you what I think about a musician, a concert, or an album now and then. Artist recommendation of the day: Ruthie Foster. Favorite song: Up Above My Head (there is music in the air).

Since I am an artist of sorts, you never know when a poem or piece of creative nonfiction might get posted here as well.

So an anything goes blog. We'll see how it goes!

Let me end this introduction by saying I try to live by this African proverb: Don't look at your feet to see if you're doing it right. Just dance!

And remember, embrace your age cause you livin'!

Welcome! I invite your comments!