Navigating 60

"They" say

Friends since grade school  Cali visit 2008

•      "It's just a number" 
•      "You're only as old as you feel" 
•      "Looking good is better than feeling   good" 
•      "Confidence is everything."

My number is 61.  Of late, I've been feeling substantially older and there's no trade-off for not feeling good.  Confidence?  It lies somewhere between a good day at work and how well my makeup goes on in the morning.  

I'm on that precarious balance beam between aging and OLD AGE.  No matter how often I walk toe to heel up and down the beam, I lean in towards the tired and decrepit side.  Yes.  I "lean in" but not the way Sheryl Sandberg advocates.  I'm tired and mad as hell and I don't want to play any more!

Pitty party petulant?  You bet.  Envious of my retiring friends with money saved?  Yes again.  Fear of the future?  Definitely.

Class of 1969 H.S. Reunion held 2008

What to do?

Possible options:

• Plastic surgery
• Frequent facials
• More exercise, less food
• More time spent with old friends
• Create an exit strategy for when you retire or get fired

Of course, applying work strategies to personal problems may or may not be the best solution.  But it is a dispassionate approach.  I can already rule out the plastic surgery.   I'd have to dip into retirement funds and that ain't gonna happen.  I was getting frequent facials for a while and they helped.  They're expensive, however, at $60 per.  That means something else has to go and it's not going to be my hair cuts & color every six weeks.  Those will be the last thing I ever give up.

More time spent with old friends my age is the most appealing.   We can talk without flinching about things forty years back, an uncomfortable elephant in the room when meeting new people not clued in to our exact decade in life.  Being a "Sixties" kid is not what it used to be.  I like the camaraderie of shared experiences.  It binds and comforts us.

Party in Westlake Village, CA  2008

My husband and I are thinking hard about our next act, where to live and how to afford it.

I'd love to hear your thoughts and/or experiences on the subject of retirement planning.  Even if you're not there yet, you probably have ideas along the lines of what you'll do.

Hump Day Humor

I've often felt this way.

As Seen on the Internet Today

This was under the post title "If Women Were Men in the Gym".  Boy, is it true!

 

Bitch Philosophy from Tina Fey & Amy Poehler

Tina Fey and Amy Poehler got it right more often than not on SNL.  Smart ladies with smart messages for the rest of us bitches...

Getting in Touch With Myself

My husband calls this "Reality Check"...

 I call it " Good hair day...and not a bad picture."

Friday Funny

I may be out of their demo but I remember the emotion...Women of a certain age, 29 vs 31.

Is This What You Want for the Next 4 Years?

Mitt Romney is confident he has the Fox crowd or "true believers" now. He knows he has to expand his reach beyond the Fox audience to women, Hispanics and Independents.  I don't think this is the way to get it.  

(love the banner)

Overheard by reporters standing outside a closed door campaign fundraiser in toney Palm Beach where the parking lot was valet-filled with Porsches, Mercedes, Hummers and a Maserati, Mitt threw out the following tidbits:

• Eliminate state income tax deduction
• Eliminate property tax deduction
• Trim or merge the Dept of Education
• Eliminate the Dept of Housing & Urban Development
• 20% tax CUT for all taxpayers in all income brackets

His wife, Ann Romney, spoke and said she was excited by the "early birthday present" from Hillary Rosen who criticized Mitt Romney for turning to his wife on women's economic concerns when Mrs. Romney "has never worked a day in her life."    Yes, Ms. Rosen could have put it better but the Republicans have latched onto this as a rallying point against the President's re-election even though Ms. Rosen is not part of his campaign.

I'd love to see Hillary Clinton go toe-to-toe with Ann Romney.  It wouldn't be a contest.  It would be fun.

Our Faces, Our Bodies, Ourselves

Ashley Judd is challenging the media as well as the rest of us to stop the incessant focus on outward beauty. She is criticizing the critics telling them to get back to the inherent values of worth: good deeds, kindness, character, inner strength...all "beautiful". It was refreshing to listen to her outrage on last nights Rock Center.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

I don't know about you but I am certainly guilty of participating in the practice of "Wonder if she/he's had work done?".  I had the conversation with the husband of a friend who looks so darn good in photos I was sure she'd gone under the knife.  He laughed and assured me she hasn't.  But I started the dialog.  It's part of our world of "looking good is better than feeling good."  I should know.  I'm from L.A.

Women are too often treated as objects, armpieces, decoration, at-your-service.  We may be asked to do things in exchange for climbing the ladder.  We may think it's okay to exchange self-esteem for security.  But we almost always have a say.  We have the right, the obligation to say "No" if we, in fact, don't like what we're asked to do.  Some women/girls have no say whatsoever.  They are slaves, chattel, second or third class citizens.  They are seen and not heard.  Luckily, this is not the norm in America though I know it can happen.  Polygamous society anyone?

We all scrutinize ourselves and one another too much.  We're all critical.  I am probably more focused on my looks now they are changing, aging & losing their luster than at any other point in my life.  It's exhausting.

What are your thoughts?  Have women perpetrated an age-old problem?  Is it thrust upon us by the male hierarchy, still in charge?  The media?  Advertising?  What can we do to change the dialog?

A Bit of SELF Examination

I call this blog "Women of a Certain Age" yet I seldom write about the topic.  I started it with the idea it would be about women what they think, what they do, who they are, where they see themselves at different ages.  Instead, I found myself seguing, time and again, into politics.   I probably should have called it "Woman of a Certain Age"  and let it be about my opinions and not feel I'm off topic.  But, it is what it is.

I've just read a very nice article in the August edition of SELF magazine, titled "Bring on the birthdays!".  It's under their self expression category swhich offers personal opinions of women of certain ages, in this case from 28 to 78.  Each person describes what her coming of age means to her.  The first vignette is by a woman aged 42 who describes overcoming her fear of being too old and too afraid to learn to surf.  She finds a "bald, wiry and short" guy to teach her, hangs in there and finally learns after years of wanting it but being afraid.  She describes it this way,

("A benefit of age is that you care less about looking foolish and you know the value of persistance.")

I certainly agree with her perspective; not sure I'd go surfing, but it gives me something to think about with respect to facing my own fears.

The eldest contributor writes of her reluctance to attend this year's family reunion at a lake.  She positions her dilemma:  sit on the shore in a coverup and watch her grandchildren cavort or participate?  Her decision,

"I will look at my 70 year-old sister, Susie, and grin.  Together we'll watch the grandchildren, so joyously alive, just like the two of us.  Then I'll shed my cover-up and there I'll be in my new bathing suit on my old body which, despite three mornings a week at the gym, continues to succumb to gravity."

Whew!  I know how that feels even if I'm not 78.   We've been going to a nearby lake and I've been in three of my bathing suits and they're all torturous.  I need to get a grip.

Another woman's essay, titled "At 50, I'm keeping my vow", writes about her decision never to lie about her age.

"It's because of a promise I made to another friend back in 1981...I was sitting on a metal chair in a hospital watchiing Ed die of AIDS.  He was 31...as I watched his chest stop moving, I could think only of what Ed would have traded for the chance to grow old.  So I silently vowed to honor the life he never got to finish by celebrating my ability to finish my own.  I promised myself I would never complain about my sheer luck at having the gift of another day.  Another decade."

I never lie about my age.  My reasons are not dramatic or because of an epiphany. I simply never lie about my age because my mother never lied about hers.  Her friends continued to get younger but Mother never budged.  I always admired her for that. 

Speaking of age, the MIL took free subscriptions to Glamour and SELF magazines, thinking they were age-appropriate for my taste.  I've enjoyed reading them even though they feel somehow like a guilty pleasure.  That said, when it's time to renew, I think I just might keep the SELF subscription.  It always has one article that resonates.

Women in the Work Force: Are We Progressing?

Whether you're in or out of the work force, there is always something new to learn.  Sometimes I get all girly and just want to know if my clothes are up to date and what's trending.  This morning I was reading clothing blogs, getting some decent pointers but mostly not.  already pretty was advising what to wear in the work force. She asked her contributors to submit their working wardrobe advice.  One of the contributors, Lisa from Privilege wrote this:

Of course, even the highly visible sometimes have positions of power, and can test a lot of limits. Look at Facebook COO, Sheryl Sandberg ...sporting heels, ruffles, and cleavage. As Facebook prepares their IPO she has the world by the, um, tail.

Well naturally I had to go see what the fuss was about...That's it?  Hell, I've dressed like that!  Many times!  What the...I  chalked her remark off to just being catty.  Then I got off the silly dress code crap and linked to the Sandberg video.  It was vaguely familiar and I knew I'd seen it before, thanks to Ad Broad who stuck to the point:  how to succeed as a woman in business.


I've experienced most things she's discussing.  My sons would wrap themselves around each leg when I dropped them at a day school in the mornings.  They were 2 1/2 and 3 1/2 and it broke my heart.  I had a boss at the time who, if I were five minutes late, was tapping his watch when I came in the office!  I was in sales for God's sake!  I earned my money the hard way, on commission.  He continually called me on the carpet for leaving work if the children were sick, etc.  My husband worked out of town and was unable to help then.  It was on my shoulders and, as the only married with children salesperson on the team, I took a load of shit.  Yet, I was the #2 biller out of 8 sales people.

My husband has always been a good partner.  He's fair about everything except making dinner.  His idea of making dinner is take out pizza.  Other than that, he was totally involved with raising the children, doing household chores, etc. He was also involved in my work in the sense he would listen to my problems.  When I had the watch tapping boss, I started to fear I was developing ulcers.  I was popping 8-10 Tums daily.  My stomach was in knots.  My husband would hypnotize me to ease the stress and it worked. 

Sandford says women do not credit themselves enough for their victories.  I believe this to be true.  We do tend to be more modest, crediting team work, etc.  We do also tend to back away from commitments when we're either pregnant, raising a child, etc.  I made that mistake once and I've always regretted it.  I walked away from a big job as a Gen. Sales Mgr of a very strong station because I was doubting my ability to do that and care for my children.  It still haunts me 20 years later.  Yeah, I know.  Let it go.

Anyway, she gives an excellent talk.  She's not preachy just practical.  It ain't easy being a man or woman in corporate America today but cream will rise to the top if you perservere and make it happen.

Barbara Bush on Sarah Palin: Meow!

Now you've done it Sarah Palin!  You've pissed off the Old Guard.  Barbara Bush is on the warpath and you do NOT want that!  I'd rather face Cheney, Rumsfeld and Rove than Barbara.  She is one scary broad and she has alot of conventional Republican women in her corner.  I know.  My mom was one of them.

Wonder if George H.W. encouraged her?

This Woman's Brain

Last night, while getting ready to leave work, I washed my hands in the restroom.  My co-worker was locking up when I realized I could not find my keys.  I began with the usual steps, dumping the entire contents of my purse on the table, looking around the bathroom perimeter, looking inside the bathroom where I knew I'd had them.  Damn! 

My co-worker, a 35 year old nice guy, unlocked the station doors and we began to search together.  I have 20+ years on this guy and I'm feeling guilty even though I know losing keys is BIG with men.  Anyway, I'm beginning to think I've gone looney tunes when he goes back to the rest room and returns with the keys.

"Where did you find them?"  I asked with shock.

"I retraced what I thought were your steps...washing of hands, towel drying, throwing towel away.  You threw your keys away with the paper towel."

Head slap!  Honest to God, I'd never have looked in that waste basket because you would not have convinced me I'd do such a thing. 

Tuesday Amusement

WOMAN'S BRAIN ACCORDING TO SCIENTISTS

For a woman, everyone of those little blue balls is a thought about something that needs to be done, a decision or problem that needs to be solved.

A man has only 2 balls and they take up all his thoughts.


MAN'S BRAIN

Dating the 7 Dwarfs (a real conversation)

Received a couple of emails from a good friend yesterday.  She was complaining about her latest boyfriend.

"Had to have another come to Jesus talk with the new guy.  Clingy/Needy/Mopey isn’t going to work with 80 miles between us and my work schedule. "

"Sounds like you're dating 3 of the 7 dwarfs." was my reply.

Her response, "Better than the other 4 dwarves I've dated, Drunken, Stupid, Vacant and Angry."

Working Out

Quite a few years ago, I fell into that zone where so many middle-aged people go...the sedentary sluggo zone.  Although I had always taken care of myself, exercised regularly, competed aggressively on the tennis court, become a faithful yoga practitioner and generally watched what I ate, I entered another dimension when my weight bearing joints began to hurt beyond endurance.

Degenerative Osteoarthritis was the diagnosis and it describes the degeneration of the weight bearing joints of the body.  I had my first total hip replacement in 2001 and the other in 2005.  By the second hip replacement, I needed a knee replacement too but was unwilling to go through more surgery, recovery and loss of body parts.  Instead, I stopped playing tennis.  After I stopped, the insidious yet subtle deterioration that had been creeping along seemed to exponentially take off at hyper speed and I added another 20 lbs to the 10 I had gained after the first hip replacement.

So here I was, thirty pounds and twelve years later, disgusted, disappointed and embarrassed by my lack of control. After a number of aborted attempts to diet and exercise on my own, I joined a really nice, really serious fitness center.  I'd been going to a drafty old gym, wearing old tees & baggy pants, working out on old machines that would often break and using the same equipment as the thick necked loud mouthed guys that frequented the place.  My husband referred to me as a "gym rat" because I didn't care what I looked like.  Unfortunately, this had extended to my work out ethic too.  I didn't much seem to care.

It sounds trite, but joining the new place gave me a new attitude.  It's a brand new, sunny, state of the art fitness center. I began working with several of the physical trainers, all women.  I was asked my goals and, instead of saying I wanted to "lose weight", I said I wanted to "lose inches".  Instead of asking to be put on a diet, I said I wanted to "eat better and gain strength".  A total needs assessment was done, including  measurements, top to bottom, a BMI (body mass index), an overview of my existing diet and exercise regimen.  I was then given a full hour's training  followed by a massage and facilitated stretching.  It was exhilarating.  Before I left the first day, my trainer had drawn up a simple nutrition plan with suggested portions and types of food:  protein, complex carbs, lots of veggies, little or no alcohol, simple sugars, simple carbs, no bad fats.  Good fats, like avocado, Omega 3 fish, olive oil, were okay.

That was March 2nd.  On that day, I committed to going to that gym four days per week with a 30 minute regimen, two days of weight training and two days of cardio.  I committed to the nutrition plan and keeping a diary of both the food intake and exercise.

I've kept my commitment.  I have been going 4 days per week.  I have been exercising 45 minutes to an hour or more each time.  I have altered my diet to more closely approximate the nutrition plan although I did not cut out alcohol or mayo and I occasionally binge on french fries and pastrami sandwiches.  While the visual progress is slow, the feeling I have about myself is not.  I see the improvement; it's happening slowly but it's happening.  I can see the change in my body even though it doesn't register on the scale.  Today I was weighed and measured and while I had lost only 3lbs, I have lost 8 inches!  EIGHT INCHES!  That's so incredible to me!  My strength is coming back.  My PT says I am truly losing the weight and burning fat and the weight is redistributing as muscle which speeds up my metabolism and allows me to burn more calories.  She was so encouraging, so complimentary.  I am truly overjoyed by the success.

It ain't easy, the work is hard, my body aches after every workout, and I take a lot of acetaminophen.  But, I'm moving more easily, I'm getting stronger, I'm extending my endurance and I may actually enjoy buying a new bathing suit in June.  My goal is to get back to a size 10, then an 8 and then buy all new clothes.

I'll keep you posted.

Notes on a Former Lover

Last night I received an email from a guy I dated in my late twenties.  We renewed our friendship last year when  I wrote him after seeing his address in a mass email to members of our media circle about a well liked friend who died prematurely.  This guy was, as Meg Ryan put it in "When Harry Met Sally", my transition guy; the first man I became attached to after my separation and divorce from my husband.  At the time, he was a national radio rep, running the LA office of a prominent national firm.  Basically, these guys represented radio stations throughout the US, calling on LA agencies for the placement of  national business.  I was a national media buyer, working in-house for the largest photo finishing company in the U.S.  I purchased radio & newspaper advertising in 40 out of 80 markets.

His interest became evident when he heard I was separated.  He approached my boss to see if it was appropriate to ask me out.  They had a good relationship;  she liked him and she liked me so she was all for it.  I'd had dinner with him many times on a business level and we got along great.  Dating was about to change the whole picture.  First of all, he invited me to accompany him to Kyoto.  His San Diego station had an annual client trip to which he was always invited with a "guest" and he invited me.  It was a week long excursion.  We'd never even kissed.  I called my mother and asked her what to do.

 "Go."  she said.

But my father got into the act.  He had been a national rep too.  He'd had his own business for thirty plus years before retiring.  He was bat shit.  The phrases "Not proper" and "conflict of interest" were applied liberally.

All my co-workers wanted me to go.  It was the trip of a life time and I was separated and my husband, soon-to-be-ex, was on the east coast.

"Go!" they urged.

I didn't go.  I couldn't reconcile any of it:  the conflict, the feelings I had for my husband and the fear I felt about being with the new guy.  Turns out, I'd have had my own rooms and needn't have worried but I was too inexperienced to ask.  He was very disappointed but when he returned we began to date and years later I realized I might as well have made the trip because, in the eyes of his competitors, I did compromise myself by dating him.  He always claimed I was much harder on him when it came to negotiations than I was on his competition and he was right.  But only he and I knew that.  It was doomed from the beginning but we became very good friends.

So last night he dropped me a note and it was sweet. He was bringing me up to date on his grand kids, his life.  He is still single having married and divorced twice, once before I'd met him and once after.  He ended the email referring to himself as an "elderly gentleman".    He just turned 67 which kinda blows me away as I remember his 40th and 50th birthdays.  We lost touch after that.

As my transition guy, we were better friends than anything else.  He was somewhat of a mentor, usually a good sounding board and very helpful through much of my career.  I was never in love.  I just had a serious crush.

What are the ramifications of looking up an old love?  Are they sweet?  bittersweet?  sad?  Do we only want to see the ones that ended not too badly?   How many of us know where our ex loves are?  How many of us care?  Food for thought.

Mirror Mirror On the Wall

Every Christmas, Santa fills my stocking with delightful small items; but this year he blew it.  This year, he  included something I viewed with intuitive alarm:  a small, round extreme magnification make up mirror.  Now, I don't know about you, but when you are a women of a certain age, you do not want to view yourself in the extreme.  You may need an average magnifying mirror in order to better see your face without squinting while you apply makeup.  Extreme is another matter. The number of times this thing enlarged my eye was so unexpected and abrupt, I dropped it in dismay. 

I look in the mirror every morning before and after makeup.  I am an optimist.  I generally feel I have very few lines or wrinkles or even age spots.  My skin is still on the oily side so I haven't the crepe paper texture so often associated with aging.  However, this mirror shows all my blemishes, crow's feet, enlarged pores and more.  It's like putting myself under a microscope and recoiling from what I now see.  Aarrggh! 

Don't get me wrong, I am trying very hard to age gracefully, sans face lifts, botox and whatever else people use to slow the process.  But, I still have my illusions and that mirror will shatter them if I keep it.  Can't break it as I'll have seven years of bad luck.

I think I'll wrap it and give it to one of my friends.

Photo from freeimages.com

Health Care Reform: Insurance Industry Obscenities Toward Women

I wanted to embed a video snippet from last night's World News Tonight on women and health care.  For some reason, ABC only provides a link to the URL.    It's about women who've previously had C-sections either being refused health care coverage, in case they planned to have another costly baby, or, even more far out, being asked by one insurer to "get sterilized."  Said insurer, Golden Rule, was willing to pay for sterilization; not another baby.

Wow.  Do you still think the insurance industry doesn't need a MAJOR overhaul?

Meanings of Contentment

Malibu Lagoon by Carson Pritchard

After many years of striving for "things" and wanting more, I find myself surprisingly content with what I now have. I say "surprisingly" because it is a surprise...to me. I have always been very security minded; anxious to know I can pay my bills and there's money in the bank for a rainy day. When those things are not in place, I am riddled with anxiety and fear that tends to make me physically ill. So, the idea that I am finally learning the meaning of contentment is a big big surprise and a welcome one.

This occurred to me yesterday while sitting in church. Our wonderful minister was speaking about the things we need to pursue on a daily basis, one of which was to enjoy the life we have. I realized I do enjoy my life now. This wasn't always the case.

I have gone from the needy, striving, covetous position of having nothing and envying others to finding a place for myself in my relationships, my marriage, the working world. I had to evolve from dependence on my husband and friends to dependence on myself. I had to learn to take responsibility; not an easy thing to do when always looking outside myself for happiness.

It has taken 50+ years to understand that happiness truly does come from within. I was told this but never seemed to accept it. I always thought there should be more. But more is all in your head. It is perception and not reality. If you perceive yourself to be happy, you are and vice versa.

This weekend was a fulfilling and reflective series of events. My husband and I attended an art show fundraiser, mingling with the artistic members of our small community. It was a great deal of fun and a different kind of outing for us. Yesterday, our youngest son turned 21, a huge milestone for all concerned. We took seven people to dinner and then he and his friends invited us to one of our favorite bars for a drink. When he paid for our drinks, my husband was all smiles. "This is the way it should be!" he said. I knew what he meant.

We talked about how lucky we are to have two sweet, kind boys, well-liked by their friends, who include their parents in their hopes and dreams and fears. They fill us with pride. Did we do a good job? We did our best.

I do not have the money I wish I had, I do not have the physical health and energy I wish I had. But, I awaken each day, go to a job I like, see my friends often, write in my blog, read my books, garden, cook and participate in life. I'm so far from perfect it's pathetic. I'm so far from secure, it's laughable. But my expectations have lowered considerably. I'm becoming a little easier on myself; more forgiving. These are the things that contribute to my new found sense of well being and contentment.

The painting above is in a collection of art work by my childhood friend, Carson Pritchard. She's another talented artist whose work I want to share. Double click her name above to see her collected works.

Friday Nights, Part 2

In May 2008, I wrote a post about Friday night get-togethers with my girlfriends, a weekly occurrence taking place during my twenties. It is a special memory because of the camaraderie and support these Friday nights engendered. These were therapeutic social gatherings arranged around wine, women & food. We listened to each other's stories, gave opinions, advice, counsel and were generally able to solve much with a great deal of laughter and gravitas combined. It was heaven.

One of the questions I ask in the post is "Why don't I re-establish Friday nights?" I would love to but am not so sure it would fly...at least where I now live. I question how forthcoming most of us are in our middle years. I know many of you are very forthcoming and yet... In those days, everyone blabbed about everything going on in their lives: sex, partners, job issues, family issues, sex. Not so sure that kind of honesty would be as easy now. We have so many to whom we feel obligated to protect.

For many of us, blogging is our Friday night opportunity to tell stories, give opinions and help one another. And it is not limited to women only. I want male readers to weigh in with their perspective. I find blogging an amazing way to reach out. It's cathartic. I'm searching for a way to make it even more interactive and instructive.

All ideas are welcome.