Women Over 40 Rock!

I recently read the article “Stumbing on the Path to G-Spot Utopia” in the Los Angeles Times that not every woman has a G-Spot. Can that be right? After all that has been written about this famous location and all the worry that went into trying to make it perform well, that it could be nonexistent just doesn’t seem possible. I realize that things work in cycles and that what is true at one time may prove not to be true later only to be proven true again later on. I suppose that is what will happen with the G-Spot as well. I just don’t know if I can wait that long. I don’t know if I can take the insecurity of it all. Just what if it IS true and that all women don’t have this desirable SPOT. The newspaper article did say how you could try to see if you actually had the physical properties that meant that you indeed had one but it involved mirrors and positions that seemed somewhat uncomfortable to me. What if I went through all that and still wasn’t sure if I had one, as I had never seen one before. Plus the description in the paper made it sound like they all have slight differences.

What the hell am I exactly looking for anyway? Could the G-Spot just be a place in your mind and the more active and creative your mind the more excitement for everyone? What was I to do? I definitely didn’t want to spend any more time on this as I had done enough thinking about this in the past. I just don’t have the energy for the G-Spot search right now.

Here is what I came up with and I would love to know what you think about my solution. I AM JUST GOING TO “ACT AS IF” I HAVE A G-SPOT WHETHER I HAVE ONE OR NOT. And that is it. I am going to “ACT AS IF” the elusive G-Spot is there and working properly. I am not going to follow the story in the paper and buy into all its ramifications and everyone’s thoughts and opinions about it. That will just take up so much time and most likely make me unhappy. So for anyone who is interested I have a beautiful and well functioning G-Spot (Now keeping it activated could be a problem but that is for another blog).

Claire Callaway, blogger for In the Trenches Productions, The First Entertainment Website Celebrating the Power and Beauty of Women Over 40

What do you do when you’ve lost it? What do you do when you think you can’t take it anymore? What do you do when you feel trapped or that you want to crawl out of your skin and transport yourself somewhere else, like a beach in Mexico with a double salt Margarita. What do you do when you have lost all your reason and focus and you don’t know what the next step is. You just can’t seem to get a grip to see through the fog in front of you so you know where you are going and why. Why am I taking this step in this direction when maybe it should be that other step. Your head is spinning, spinning out of control. What do you do when you feel like screaming forever from the tip of your pedicure needy toenails, through your worn out body and out your mouth to the heavens above. How do you relieve the pain when you do not drink, smoke, do drugs or drink coffee and the one bad habit of eating chocolate isn’t enough?

YOU GO BUY A SOFA!

Sound crazy? I totally agree. I thought of my partner, Claire Callaway’s blog about THERAPY SHOPPING and it sounds all too familiar. Well I could certainly use a dose of therapy shopping today. I love running to a thrift shop or Target or TJ Max and finding a wonderful treasure for $5 or $10. It is mostly just putting my mind somewhere else that helps. But today is different. Today is off the charts stress. This is mother load stress and I want to buy a SOFA! Yes you heard me. I have the desperate unrelenting urge to buy a sofa. It just popped into my head. I just want to hop in the car and buy a SOFA. Irrational?! Insane? Yes! BUT the stress of today and the last year has been insane.

My son has been very sick for the last year and a half. I actually have a lot of days like this. But it is nothing compared to my son’s suffering. And I get mad at myself for wanting to escape and buy a stupid sofa when he can’t escape. I can escape my surroundings but he can’t escape the body that has turned on him and also won’t allow him to get up and out to enjoy life again. I won’t go into specific details but it has been a horribly long, complex and winding journey of this “YET TO BE DIAGNOSED ILLNESS” and how it is has continued to spiral out of control and affect other parts of his body while they do the myriad of tests without finding definitive specific reason for the progression and evolution of this illness. Watching my son suffer the way he has and knowing all that he has lost (missing his senior year, missing prom, loosing friends) and feeling so helpless is enough to drive any mom around the bend. You never think your child will have a serious illness. You hope and pray everyday that will never happen. But if it happens and the doctors can’t figure it out and cannot diagnose the problem for almost year and a half of trying- what do you do? Well…you buy a sofa! And I’ll say the doctors made me do it.

There are 3 doctors’ faces that my son and I have come to dread. You too may have seen these faces. But if you haven’t, trust me these faces are bad enough to make you want to buy a sofa.

• Number 1: the look on their face when they don’t have a clue what the hell is going on and are lost as to how to move forward.
• Number 2: The look on their face when they want you to disappear because you are just a reminder of their failure and their ego can’t deal with it.
• Number 3: The look that you are a bossy over reacting hysterical mom / woman. It is the look of mommyism and sexism.

The worst grievance of all and the most stress inducing is the lack of caring. The down right cavalier perhaps unintentional “your son’s suffering is not a priority” attitude that you deal with day in and day out especially when you can’t reach a doctor or a nurse. When they take their bloody time calling you back, despite how many desperate messages you’ve left, it doesn’t seem to matter that you are waiting by the phone and rescheduling things so you don’t miss that call and the stress that causes. They don’t seem to realize what the consequence is to their patient when it takes 5 to 10 days to return a call or give a test result. The consequence is that the doctor who is supposed to be helping relieve the patients suffering ends up causing more suffering to that patient and the mom (caregiver) ends up with all the nerve endings in her entire body fried like a MacDonald’s Filet of Fish. And then when they do call you back they of course are bothered by having to do so and have too little time to talk so you panic and lose your train of thought, forget the list of questions and points you wanted to make and you are left dangling with a horrible sense of incompetency for having blown this incredibly important opportunity that you could wait another 3 weeks for.

Of course there have been some good medical personnel along the way but today I am not thinking of them. I am thinking of my son and all he has been through and how brave he has been. I am thinking of yet another incident with a doctor that ruined the day. That made us all feel so unimportant. And all I can think of is that darn new sofa I want to run out and buy and have delivered this very day even if I have to strap it to the top of my little Honda Fit. There is no good reason I can think of to buy a sofa. I don’t even need a new sofa. I guess it is just the kind of stressful day where nothing but a big-ticket item will do.

However, since writing this blog the urge has gone. Let’s call it “therapy writing” instead of “therapy shopping”. I will call my mom or one of my dear friends instead and bend their ear a while. I will give my son another hug or maybe hundreds. I will kiss my precious doggies on the tops of their heads and give them a doggie cookie and I will feel clearer and more hopeful again. I will probably eat some chocolate and then I will fight to gain my focus and my strength back so I can forge ahead to MAKE the doctors care more deeply about solving the mystery of this illness so my son will be cured sooner rather than later. That is what moms do. And I will do it all without rushing out to buy a brand new sofa. Hopefully.

Debbie Zipp, blogger for IN THE TRENCHES PRODUCTIONS, The First Entertainment Website Celebrating the Power and Beauty of Women Over 40

I get what this is.

And I know that sometimes I need it.

But I have to be careful not to do it all the time.

Therapy shopping is shopping that makes you feel good and not shopping because you need a particular item. In fact you had no idea that you would be buying that particular item.  You bought it because it makes you feel good.  At least this has been my personal experience.  Has this ever happened to you—-You feel unhappy, you feel sick, you didn’t get something your wanted and deserved, you feel old and ugly, not real smart, you just know nothing is really ever going to work out for you, you are overweight, you look terrible in a bathing suit, if you even have the courage to put one on, plus you are broke and you couldn’t get a face lift or botox treatments even if you wanted them. Or maybe you have experienced this, your husband is mad at you, you are mad at your husband, you don’t want to stay with your husband, he doesn’t want to stay with you, or you don’t have a husband. (Now replace the word husband with children or child in the preceding sentence).

Sometimes things are just overwhelming or you simply feel screwed!!!!!!!!

Hopefully this is just a temporary feeling that needs a relative quick fix and not serious therapy.  Let’s assume this to be true for now.  For now you are not feeling good about your self and your worth.  What could be better than finding a bargain?  The better the bargain the better you will feel about yourself and your self worth. Let me tell you about my last outing of therapy shopping.  I was feeling all the above-mentioned feelings one day and I just knew that I had to feel better.  Maybe I would feel more special if I could find something to buy that was really terrific and that I got for a bargain.  A fabulous and desirable item at a bargain price can REALLY make one feel good. Now I always seem to have to couch my “HUNTING” with something else.  I am off to COSTCO because I want to “SAVE MONEY” for my family on food and household needs. (PLEASE DON’T LET ME OVERBUY STUFF IN HUGE QUANTITIES AND PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE LET ME FIND A SPECIAL BARGAIN).  Almost always when I am in this mood I do find something.  Once I was lucky enough to go to the south of France on holiday. At several restaurants they served their water in these lovely clear glasses that had a bee figure on them.  I loved them and at that time I had not seen them in the states. In fact I had bought a set of glasses, because I did need glasses and they were on sale at a French shop that was going out of business.  I didn’t really, really need them but it must have been some sort of therapy shopping that day as well.  But it wasn’t a real coup because they were nice French glasses but not the ones I dreamt about. It was a good feeling but not a blowout one.  Close but no cigar as they say.  Anyway, on that fore mentioned trip to COSTCO, I found the glasses that I REALLY wanted. I was thrilled. I spent time figuring out what to do.  They came in two sizes, medium and large. Should I get twelve of one size or six in two sizes?  After much thought I figured that I was more likely to have six for dinner than twelve. I FELT GREAT.  I HAD REALLY ACCOMPLISHED SOMETHING THAT MADE ME FEEL GOOD ABOUT MYSELF.  I know that this probably sounds pathetic but I DID feel better about myself.  (Which I am just sure made me accomplish other good things).  Plus because of this therapy shopping no one ever knew that I had been pretty depressed and I got thru the rest of the day in good spirits. YEAH.

Of course you have to be careful not to overdo this therapy-shopping thing.  You don’t want to put yourself in financial ruin over it, you don’t want to have a household of fabulous bargains that never get used, take up space and that you no longer want. Nor do you want to spend your days returning all this stuff. Most importantly you don’t want this to turn into a full blown out addiction to shopping.  But an occasional quick fix to feeling better about yourself, knowing full well that that is all it is, isn’t so bad in my book.  What do you think?

PS: I only feel it fair to tell you this.  About those COSTCO glasses, I have never taken them out of their sealed boxes. (I can only hope that they are the glasses that I think they are and that none are broken).  You see, I have limited cabinet space and I just couldn’t get rid of those other bargain French glasses so I have put those unopened boxes in the attic waiting for a special occasion. But that does not diminish the good feeling I have when I think about them and believe it or not I do. Plus every time I go back to COSTCO I look for them and I have never seen them for sale again—lucky me for having been there on the day that they did sale them. And I know that an occasion will present itself for their use and I will feel SPECIAL all over again.

Claire Callaway, blogger for In the Trenches Productions, The First Entertainment Website Celebrating the Power and Beauty of Women Over 40!

I don’t know why but it surprised me so much when my son said to me yesterday, “I think you should get a job mom”. Actually I think it hurt my feelings. It hurt because I do have a job, actually many jobs. One, I am a full time wife and mom and I am at my family’s disposal WHENEVER they need it and then some. Two, I am working with 3 other gals and we are trying to get our web site known and profitable.  We are doing all the work ourselves and I truly believe it is inspiring, rewarding, informative, entertaining, and will be successful.   Three, I have a profession in the arts that I keep up with but I’m over 5o so there are fewer opportunities to make money there. Four, I have always participated in my community and various causes, social as well as political. Five, I am a really good friend.  Six, I have a very serious illness that does take up a lot of my time.

I could list other jobs but that’s not the point. The point is that none of these jobs make any real money. And when push comes to shove, like a bad economy, money is what matters. So when you don’t go to a regular job with regular hours and come home with regular paychecks, many people, even good people that I love, don’t really count all your efforts as valuable.

Now don’t get me wrong. I am talking about RESPECT here. If one were talking about the lack of money to pay the essential bills one would do ANYTHING to contribute and avoid ending up on the street. But it’s not that.  Yes, our family could always use extra money to make our lives even better but believe me I am trying to do that.   I guess sensing from my son and husband that I am not held in high esteem because I don’t make much money is upsetting.

Any one out there experiencing the same thing and how do you handle it?

Claire Callaway, blogger for IN THE TRENCHES PRODUCTIONS, The First Entertainment Website Celebrating the Power of Women Over 40.

Do you ever get up in the morning and before your feet touch the ground, or the phone has rung, or before anyone has even said a word, you know it’s going to be a bad day. That happens to me every once in awhile and I don’t know why. We all have difficulties I know. But before I even start to think about them I am feeling queasy. I understand that there maybe several explanations for this. One, there might be issues that didn’t get resolved from the day before. Two, you could have had some bad dreams and not remembered them. Three, you’re probably facing some problems that are going to have to be solved soon. Four, the list could go on and on I guess. But why today before I’ve barely opened my eyes?

Now I am not an inactive person and I have read a thing or two, so I know what to do. As I was having these shaky feelings I went over in my mind all the reasons why I am lucky. I got up and washed my face and brushed my hair. (these are two things I don’t do when I am really depressed) So I can’t be really depressed. I got my family breakfast: fresh made coffee, a very pleasant aroma in the house, cereal–but it was from the health food store which should give me a few points, and some fresh squeezed orange juice with lots of pulp, though in fact it was yesterday’s fresh squeezed from the health food store so I guess it’s a plus and a minus situation. All in all I felt that I looked half way presentable in the morning, that I served kind of a decent breakfast, and everyone left looking alright. (unless they too were hiding scary thoughts—oh I can’t go there). So why this uneasy feeling in me?

I’ve got things to do. For one, to write this blog, which I actually enjoy doing. I don’t think I worry that I really don’t write that well. After all I’m not a real professional writer. So that can’t be it. I’ve got business and personal phone calls to make. (gosh I hope I can make them feeling as I do). I know I just have to push through this melancholy. I know, just do one thing at a time, nothing too difficult so you don’t feel like you failed. I actually did go outside and smelled the roses—it helped for about a minute. What’s wrong with me. I don’t think I am a spoiled woman. I haven’t gotten some things that I dreamed about and I do have a serious health problem and yet I fully and truly know that I am a lucky person. I really mean that.

So why did I wake up this morning with this feeling? I don’t know. This is all I have come up with so far. Sometimes I am a half way person. For what ever reason on some days I just give half an effort or that’s all that’s in me to do. Maybe when I woke up this morning I knew it was a “halfy”. I didn’t have the will, the desire, or the optimum health to do a “wholey”. And maybe on some days that just has to be enough. Besides when you look at the glass and you see that it’s “half full” isn’t that a good thing? So believing that lets me rethink my thoughts and allows me to have a good day after all. This is probably only a “half way” good explanation. Any other thoughts out there? Anyone else having a “halfy” day? I could use some “whole” explanations. But a “half one” would do too.

Claire Callaway, blogger for In the Trenches Productions, The First Entertainment Website Celebrating the Power and Beauty of Women over 40

I recently checked out the websites of two friends I went to school with in Oklahoma in the 50s…two artists…and it suddenly struck me that growing up in the midwest in the 50s wasn’t, as I thought at the time, a one-way trip to stay-at-home-cook-clean-&have-no-opinions mom-land after all! Kate Kline has been working with fabrics her whole life…I remember her dressing her dolls when we were eight. She has moved on since then to include dressing herself, quilting, welding, pottery, painting and drawing. And my other friend, Sharlee Kuhns has a love affair with colors, as can be seen in her “pillow-face” collection of circus characters.

Not that many of my friends, including these, have not been homemakers and moms and workers, but they also opened themselves up to life, including all the slings and arrows as well as the bouquets, and processed it by expressing it in their artistic endeavors. And I don’t know about them, but looking back over my own life, I see that art and the appreciation of it helped me survive a less than ideal childhood marked with divorce, near poverty, and the early death of my mother. Although I became an actor, I really believe that an art teacher I had in grade school literally showing me how to absorb everything around me, helped me be a really good actor. - One of my fondest memories is his suddenly having our entire class get up, go outside, lay on the ground and look at what was a sky of amazing clouds that day. George Calvert was his name, and he was an artist as well as a teacher, and so committed to opening young people’s eyes that he gave classes after school as well.

Every time I see an article, or hear a news story, about one of our schools having to cut their budget, and doing it by cutting classes in the arts, I think about Mr. Calvert and how much he gave me at the time when I needed, and could absorb it, the most. Then when I visited these friends’ websites I thought of him again…although they both studied with many, one also had Mr. Calvert in grade school, and the other lists him as one of her teachers. Could it be that he helped open them up to the world around them as well?

And how many others? What a shame that society in general doesn’t seem to realize the importance of the arts in our lives and how they can be used to draw (no pun intended) young people onto the yellow brick road leading to better lives for themselves and those around them. I, for one, hope that the next rowdy protest I hear about is one outside a school that is cutting its arts classes!

Judith Art-Is-Indispensable Drake, blogger for In The Trenches Productions, The First Entertainment Website Celebrating the Power and Beauty of Women Over 40

In the 60’s and early 70’s, I sported a hippie wanna-be look. In retrospect, the look was a bit clownish. Afterwards, during the 80’s, I wore – in public, mind you — tight leggings with an oversized shirt. Even today I cringe when I view photographs of my hairstyles from the early 90’s. What was I thinking? My grown children laugh uncontrollably when I tell stories about the “old days.” Bad clothing choices, weird jobs, and strange antics. Did I really do that? The past has a way of mixing embarrassment with a good dose of laughter.

Like many women over forty, I carry with me a fair amount of baggage from my past. Unlike the stories I tell my children, much of what constitutes this baggage is far from amusing. I often think that if I could go back in time, there are so many choices that I would make differently. But, then again, maybe I wouldn’t, because those choices are some of the very things which have influenced who I am today, and who I hope to become.

I have grown children and step-children, as well as the accompanying in-laws and ex in-laws. I have a husband who I love, and an “ex” who I don’t. And there it is… the “ex” factor. Once you’ve had children with someone, you cannot completely sever ties, no matter how much you’d like to do just that.

Some children wish for, and plot, to get their parents back together. Not so with my kids. They have made it abundantly clear that they want us as far away from each other as possible. They say this in all seriousness, with no hint of humor involved.

Upon my son’s graduation from college this month, the dreaded, but inevitable, gathering of me, my children, husband… and ex, occupying the same place at the same time, came to pass. Not that we planned on socializing, but we each knew, as we traveled to this meeting ground, that a time would come when we would all be together, wanting to share in the moment.

As it turned out, this monumental event took place on the campus lawn. There we stood, in all our awkwardness, forced into pleasantries and photographs. Group photographs. And by group, I mean my husband and ex… in the same shot.

To witness this photo session, you would have seen no hint of inner turmoil or threat of eruption boiling just below the surface. Within a few days, the group photo was front and center on my son’s My Space page for all the world to see. Shock and awe is the only way that I can describe it seeing that photo.

Despite the uncomfortableness of it all, it was a small step in the right direction. Sometimes ex-spouses actually become close friends, going so far as to socialize together. While I don’t expect — or want — that to happen, I hope, for all our sakes, that we can manage to repeat this episode. Afterall, the future promises more graduations, as well as weddings, and perhaps grandchildren.

Life is an accumulation of our experiences. All of them… the good, the bad, the ugly, and even the ridiculous. The longer we live, the more varied those experiences become, the more baggage we accumulate. Rather than attempt to cherry-pick the past, or pretend it doesn’t exist, we owe it to ourselves to embrace it, for that past is an integral part of our present. Without a past we have no tools with which to chart our future.

So embrace who you are, ring for the baggage handler, and when they pull out that camera, don’t forget to smile and say “cheese!”

Posted by Mandy Crest, blogger for In The Trenches Productions, The First Entertainment Website for Women Over 40!

Just saw Mandy Crest’s great Our Time Is Now blog, and it only reinforces the other reinforcement I came across…and one can never have too many reinforcements, as we all know.
Yesterday I read an article by Thea Singer in the Feb. edition of MORE magazine, and Singer has left me singing!
This article, “Power Surge”, reports on several studies that have followed women over many years (one for 5 decades) assessing various traits, including confidence, and guess what? Women in their 20s and 30s felt weak, incompetent and very unsure of themselves (no surprise to me, having been there). But in their 40’s these same women experienced an increase in confidence, felt that they had come into their own (as Mandy says), and that they could follow their own convictions no matter what others thought. Their sense of competency in their work and personal lives actually soared.
But how does the media portray most of us over 40? Dried-up and drifting from senior moment to senior moment. And I have to admit the media’s views of mid-life and older have always been tugging at my coattails, even though I knew that when I hit my 40s I was beginning to feel pretty good about myself. And then when I hit my 50s I even felt sort of complete…like I had come to know exactly who I was. BUT - as the 60s approached that nagging feeling that the media was right and it was all a mirage and I was really about to sink into the pool of senility grew ever stronger. Until - I read this article and all the info these studies had come up with. It, and then the follow up when I read Mandy’s blog, helped me realize what I had actually known all along - I have gotten better and better and better with age, and plan on continuing on this course.
So thank you, Ms. Singer, and Ms. Crest as well. And it couldn’t have happened at a better time, as I turn 66 this week. A better birthday prezzie I could not have hoped for!
Judith 66-and-lovin’-it Drake, Blogger for Women Over 40 Rock / In the Trenches Productions

Our time is now.

As a young girl growing up in the ‘60s, I was raised in a sheltered New England community. Back then, I had yet to see a female newscaster, a female doctor, a female astronaut, or a female soldier. My young mind would have thought such a thing impossible.

Not long ago, the mature woman, as presented to us by mass media, was obsessed with keeping her husband’s dirty shirt collars clean and his coffee cup filled. To be a woman relegated you to a narrowly defined path; you were not encouraged, or expected, to wish for more. Television and movies portrayed the over-40 woman as asexual, content to tend to the needs of others at the expense of her own. What dreams they may once have harbored, now buried beyond reach. The worn cliché of a woman never admitting to being over 29 years of age is grounded in fact; to admit to anything else was to put oneself in danger of being deemed obsolete.

Flash to the 21st century — today. What a difference! From Hollywood to Washington DC, female role models abound. Together we have witnessed, and continue to witness, history in the making. History made when Nancy Pelosi took to the podium as the first-ever female US Speaker of the House. History now unfolding as Hillary Clinton becomes the first woman in history to find herself in serious contention for the position of United States President. Whether or not Hillary is elected, the landscape of US politics is forever changed. For the better.

Our time is now.

One need look no further than Candice Bergan’s character, Shirley Schmidt of ABC’s Boston Legal, to see a woman of action. Age is no barrier to Shirley, nor to Candice. They’re both smart, successful, vibrant, and confident in their sexuality. No wonder Candice was chosen to play the part.

Sally Field, Diane Keaton, Teri Hatcher, are just a few of the many women over 40 who have, throughout their careers, helped to shape the collective consciousness of more than one generation. Our daughters look, as did we, to these older women, and to the characters they play. In them, they see walking, talking evidence of that which is possible; that they too are free to pursue their dreams.

The beautiful and intelligent Vanessa Williams, age 44, gracing of cover of February’s More Magazine, it’s 10th Anniversary Edition, said, “I’m enjoying every moment. In your twenties, you think, I’ve got to prove something. In your forties, you don’t.” Bravo, Vanessa.

Our time is now.

We’re wiser at 40 than we were at 30. But to those of us nearing 60, 70, or older, the 40-year old is but a child. Most of us, sadly not all, have, by the time we’ve reached 40, learned some lessons along the way. For sure, we’ve learned a thing or two about life, and about our ability to cope and adapt when change rears its head. We embrace our dreams; no longer afraid of failure, for failure is just another lesson to be learned. We refuse to live a life of regret forged by an unwillingness to act upon our dreams.

Face it, 40 isn’t the new 30 any more than 60 is the new 40. But so what? We no longer feel compelled to lie about our age. We’ve earned those numbers and do not shrink from admitting them. We no longer feel it necessary to add “for my age” to the end of each sentence when we see ourselves in a mirror and admit that we look pretty good. Far from hanging up the “out of order” sign, aging prepares us to experience that which is to come. Our confidence, not to be confused with youth’s false bravado, is real, and comes from deep within. We’ve learned to trust our instincts in our quest to realize our potential.

Our time is now!

Speaking for myself, this is one over-40 woman who will not sit on the sidelines, content to watch the young girls have all the fun.

My Time is now. How about you?

Posted by Mandy Crest, Blogger for Women Over 40 Rock! and In The Trenches Productions

Whenever I have a doctor’s appointment I anticipate a certain amount of discomfort and embarrassment. But should that begin in the waiting room? Two of my doctors are connected with a large university facility and to confirm your identity, you have to announce your date of birth in the waiting room. This strikes me as rather cruel. Waiting rooms are small and oddly intimate spaces. The first time I was asked, I put on my best Tennessee Williams accent and said, “Why darling, don’t you know it is bad manners to ask a lady her age?” The receptionist stared vacantly at me and flatly repeated the question. During subsequent visits I have taken to quickly saying my numbers, then slinking to the nearest seat, feeling the eyes of the other patients stealing glances at me. As other patients come in, I am guilty of the same age assessment game, surreptitiously peering out from behind Newsweek – gee, someone looks a lot older than 60!

At my last appointment, I was ready for the age question and simply held up an index card with my date of birth. The receptionist laughed and then told me about a patient who responded to the dreaded date of birth question, by shooing her husband to the farthest corner of the waiting room before whispering her numbers. Ridiculous? Not really. I know a number of women who’ve never told their husbands their age. I don’t know the exact age of most of my women friends. One night over drinks, a friend who’d kept her age a closely guarded secret, revealed her DOB. I was flattered; I felt like family. She said she’d told so many lies about her age that to remember her actual age she had to stop and do the math.

The bigger issue, aside from UCLA changing their nasty way of identifying patients, is why after 50, no one wants to admit their true age. For most people over 50, every birthday is their 30th. The other day I heard a very bright progressive radio talk show host ruefully commenting that her birthday was approaching and she’d be 30 – again. We try to comfort ourselves with bromides like “50 is the new 30” and “60 is the new 40”. I asked an 80 year old friend if 80 was the new 60. He replied, “No, 80 is 80.’ Well said. Maybe by the time we get to 80 we can start wearing our age as a badge of honor. Maybe it takes getting to 80 to stop playing foolish ego games regarding age.

But when you start admitting your age, will people view you differently? What I certainly fear about aging is that I will no longer be relevant, that my ideas will seem hopelessly old school. I work part time in an office where I am definitely the oldest on the staff. So far I haven’t felt any age discrimination from my younger co-workers. In fact, I enjoy all of them especially a 25 year old young woman. I could tell from our conversations that I was older than her mother. The other day we were talking about something in my past, and I off-handedly mentioned my true age, which I’d been careful to obscure. She blinked many times, and turned ashen. As I rushed to get her water, she said, “Wow, you don’t look your age.” I couldn’t tell whether she was shocked because I was that old or, horror of horrors, that young. To her credit, not long after that incident we went to see a play together and afterward went to a bar where I got CARDED. I asked the bouncer if it was seniors’ night and if I was entitled to a discount. The bouncer took one look at my license and practically threw it back to me. I’ll take his dismissive behavior over the movie ticket gal who gave me the senior discount without my asking for it! Ouch - that hurt. But I digress. I had a lively evening with my young friend and we’re planning another girl’s night out. For me, I felt incredibly free. I no longer needed to disguise dates from my past to prevent her from determining my age. So, how old am I? Well, I was born after WWII but I missed being a baby boomer by 5 months.
Now it’s your turn to do the math.

Jan Bina – still not ready to admit her exact age to the world.
In The Trenches Productions