Showing posts with label age. Show all posts
Showing posts with label age. Show all posts

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Birthday Dinner at Puritan & Co.

Rosemary treated me to dinner last night at Puritan & Co., a recent arrival on Cambridge St.  I had chicken; she had beef.  The food was pretty good, but the noise was a distraction and made it difficult to hear each other.

The space is one large, long room with a high ceiling.  I kept trying to figure out what kind of architectural modifications would cut the noise.  The music was too loud, and people trying to be heard by their neighbors made it worse.  It's a shame, because they have an interesting menu.

Afterwards, we went to 1369 for coffee.

I am now thoroughly 58.



Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Modern Maturity

Today, as I turn 56, I'd like to say a few words about getting old.  Many Boomers have taken on the laudable project of making their contemporaries feel OK about getting old.  We get plenty of health advice and are told that we can have a sex life after 40 or even 50.  All this is good.

But, as in any large movement, there are unrealistic extremes.  Menopause needn't be feared, and perhaps it has been over-pathologized, but it can be troublesome for some of us.  Some women seem to believe that anything menopausal should be endured, otherwise we are ruining the celebration of our later years. At one point my hot flashes were so intense that my glasses fogged up.  That made it rather difficult to sleep; I went with medication.

In a recent interview Jane Fonda said, "I don't feel comfortable about having had plastic surgery.  But I got tired of catching my reflection and seeing that I looked so tired when that wasn't at all how I felt."*  I wish that, instead of this defensive tone, she had simply said, "I had the surgery because I wanted it.  What's that to you?"  The interviewer's questions weren't recorded, but criticism is implied.  One of my favorite health gurus, Christiane Northrup, advises women who have decided to get cosmetic surgery to keep it secret because, "You'd be amazed at the number of judgments your friends may have concerning cosmetic surgery,..Some of your friends won't think you're very spiritually evolved, for instance, if you want to remove the bags under your eyes. Frankly, how you look is none of their business."** To Fonda's credit, she has admitted, in the past, to discomfort with becoming an old broad.

When I read that interview I immediately remembered a friend from the 90s, a man, who was always bragging about how age was "just a number" to him, blah, blah, blah.   Then one day told me he was getting the eye-bag operation because his eyes made him look tired, while in reality he was energetic as all get out.  His eyes lied.   (I want to emphasize that he gave me this explanation unsolicited.  If I looked disgusted, it was because I knew he wanted to date women 20 years his junior.  Age was more than "just a number" in that respect.)  So Fonda's "excuse" was not new.  Then he hinted that he needed somebody to look after him for a few days after going under the knife, but I didn't oblige.  His lecturing had got my goat, so I let that old goat arrange for his own care.

One of the undisputed advantages of aging is that, if you've been paying attention, you may be a lot smarter and than you were as a young pup.  If you've also learned from experience, you might even become a more complicated, interesting person.  So why do some people praise "young attitudes" in older people?  Young attitudes are only appropriate for young people; in old people they are pathetic!

In conclusion, I'd like to encourage everybody to think positively about aging.  But realize that when you've been young in an age of youth-worship, going over the hill can be traumatic.  If some age-related rot is bothering you, don't be ashamed to change it, if you can.  And don't annoy me with fake justifications!



*More, December 2010/January 2011, page 24.
**Christiane Northrup, The Wisdom of Menopause, page 384

Monday, November 08, 2010

Menopausal Misnomer

I see from my PubMed searches that the medical community is now calling hot flashes hot flushes.  I approve the change.  I didn't recognize my first hot flashes for what they were, because of that word flash.  Flash, streak, lightning, glare, dazzle, instant, split second.  This is what hot flash implies.

Sela Allen

But what actually happens is a gradual heating-up and cooling-down of the head and chest lasting a few minutes.  When I first noticed the change, I thought I was getting a fever, since my face got flushed, "But, no, it's better now.  Uh oh, it's back."  Finally I had the hot-flash-ah-ha moment. 


The above graphic makes the process clear:  hormonal flux trips the on switch of the Heating Element, which slowly heats to its maximum, then turns off.

You can buy all sorts of items claiming "They're not hot flashes, they're power surges."  I don't know why a power surge is better.  Perhaps the word power is felt to be so good, that it hardly matters that power surges blow out your electronics, and that you buy surge protectors against them. The promoters of that slogan probably are thinking of something like Sela Allen pictured above; but real menopause is not like that.
Menopause tchotchkes are fine; I have several myself.  But they shouldn't  be too silly.  We are old enough to know better!

Wednesday, September 01, 2010

Finally ! Color-Coded Rhyme

As my regular readers may recall, rhyme has been a carrier of Truth to me since childhood.  So I love poetry that uses lots of rhyme and slant rhyme.  Currently I am reading Kay Ryan's latest: The Best of It.  Here are a couple of rhyme-bunctious poems from the book with the rhymes and slant rhymes, same sounds and similar sounds linked using my own color-coding system (patent pending).

GRAZING HORSES (page 166)
Sometimes the
green pasture
of the mind
tilts abruptly.
The grazing horses
struggle crazily
for purchase
on the frictionless
nearly verticle
surface.  Their
furniture-fine
legs buckle
on the incline,
unhorsed by slant
they weren't
designed to climb
and can't.


CHART (page 254)
There is a big
figure, your age,
crawling, then
standing, now
beginning to bend
as he crosses
the stage.  Or
she.  A blurred
and generalized
projection of you
and me.  For a
long time it seems
as remote
from the self
as the ape chart
where they rise up
and walk into man.
And then it seems
the realer part.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Monday, September 07, 2009

Feeling Young?

For those of you who still feel young, I suggest checking out this site, which describes the mindset of the incoming class of college freshmen.

If that doesn't work, check out this site, and see if you remember wearing any of these outfits.

Then, if that doesn't work, check out this site, and see if you ever thought your future would turn out this way.