On Aging: Everyone's Doing It

As you know, our society does not highly favor old-ness.  If you're oldsauce, you're put up on the shelf like an outdated 8-track player.  People with grey hair should be well taken care of, even ancient writings of Proverbs (of the Bible) refer to grey hair as being a "crown of the aged".  (Better than the alternative, right?  Dead or bald?  Exactly.  Although based on the Hair Club for Men commercials, maybe some people would prefer dead to bald, but I digress.)

I consider myself to be 1/3 of the way through my life, so I'm old to teenagers, but beyond that I'm young-ish.  (Young-ish gets older with each passing year, doesn't it?)

Our society is pretty stupid.  Here's the thing.  Everyone is going to get old sometime. (Unless they die first, of course.) They should totally make it IN STYLE!  This is especially true for women.  Men already figured this out.  You see old dudes (like Bob Barker!) and people love him.  You see old ladies and you're like, "Aww, what are you doing today, knitting an afghan while sitting at your lace tablecloth covered table?"

In Hollywood, females are old when they're like 28.5.  Men are old when they're 68.5.  

I say we mess with this.

So here's what I do.  It kind of freaks out my hubby, but even more the better!  Sometimes I go out in the sun and get freckles.  At some point someone told me what I thought was a freckle on my hand was an age spot.  So after my initial reaction of, "Could this be?!  Is it possible!?", I began celebrating it.

I would proudly say to hubby,  "Look at my age spots!  Woo!"

He would say, "Stop it!"

"Age spots, age spots, age spots!!  HA HA HA!!!"

Now I just make it up anywhere and say "ooh la la" when people talk about me one day getting grey hair.

I'm still working on liking anything that may be wrinkly or saggy, but it's coming around.

I think you should just be happy with where you're at.  My offspring asked me if I wished I were their age.  HECK NO!  I have gotten this far in life, I do not want to have to to ANY of it over again.  

Just think of those pathetic ladies who dress like they're 25 and they're 70.  You see them from behind with long hair and spandex and then they turn sideways and you're shocked, horrified and repulsed.  Don't be an old lady who wishes she weren't.  It's so unattractive.  It's like you're saying, "I'm fighting for youth!  I'm losing!"

Now you don't have to go all homemade plaid jumper on me, but unless you're a 70 year old woman in a triathlon, you keep your spandex at home.

And anyway, I think it is much more impressive to be awesome when you're older.  When you're young, it's easy to run a 6:00 minute mile.  When you're old and you do it, you are pretty much a rockstar.  If you slalom water ski when you're young, whoop-tee-do.  When you're my 66 year-old Dad and you can slalom ski from a jumping shallow water start, rockstar.  When you're young and you run past me in a triathlon, go ahead you stupid jerk, fine.  But if you're old, I'm first going to slap myself and then cheer for you.

It's all perspective, I guess.  Wear it proudly.  After all, hopefully you are a lot less stupider than you were when you were 19.

Don't fight it.  Go boldly where you've never gone before.  Be a rockstar.  

Peace, love and age spots,
Ms. Daisy

Supercentenarians...and you

So I'm sure you've just been dying to know what my latest obsession/interest is, right?  You've probably been sitting around at your kitchen table with your head in your hands, wrenching them through your hair - occasionally pounding your fist in frustration upon your beloved eating space while desperately crying out, "What COULD she be obsessing over today?  OH!  If I only might know!  I would feel that my day would be complete!  Argh!  I am robbed of joy, robbed!  Robbed, I tell you!"

You may now heave your gigantic sigh of relief because I am about to tell you.  

Lately I have been inclined to obsess over...bum ba da BAAA!!  Supercentenarians!  

They sound like super heroes.  Well, duh, 'cuz they so are.

If you're saying, "What the heck is a supercentenarian?", you know that I shall gladly tell you.

So, a regular centenarian is a person who has achieved the feat of turning a mere 100 years old.  My great-grandma was a centenarian - she was 102.75 when she passed from this world to the next and my grandmother (her daughter) is 11 months shy of her 100th birthday.  I suppose it's how we roll around here.

A supercentenarian is someone who is greater than 110 years old.  There is this organization that records and verifies the age of such people and they keep this list and it's all Guiness booky and everything.  You have to have three sources to prove your age that are recognized by an international body.  Other people who are not verified may have less than three - like just having your birth certificate is not quite good enough for these fancy people, they've got to do it up all the way in three separate directions.

Currently, the oldest person in the world is a man from Japan.  He worked for the post office for about 45 years and then after he retired, he decided to be a farmer until he was 90.  He's 115 (116 in April) and is reported to read the paper every day with a magnifying glass.   He says his secret is eating small portions of food.

The oldest person ever on modern history's record is a woman from Arles, France.  Madame Calmet was 122 years old when she passed from this life to the next.  If you know anything about Impressionism, you know a Mr. Vincent van Gogh and that he lived in Arles in his painting years while he was trying to get people to come hang out with him in that section of France.  You will be fascinated to know that Madame Calmet was in her uncle's shop when she was about 13 when Mr. van Gogh came in to buy some paintbrushes.  She described him as, "rude, dirty and unpleasant" and she disliked him very much.  If you read his letters, you can see that many people held that opinion of him during his time (except perhaps his brother - who was also his patron).  

She celebrated her 121st birthday with a little champagne and was reported to eat about 2.2 pounds of chocolate a week. 

Once, someone said to her something along the lines of "Perhaps I'll see you next year?"  (She was about 115 at the time.)  She said, 'What's the matter with you?   You don't look sick!"

All of these people had something in common - they had an outgoing personality, many had/have a good sense of humor and they all tried new things and found enjoyment in life.  Madam Calmet took up fencing when she was EIGHTY-FIVE YEARS OLD.

What is says to me is that they were actually living their lives instead of waiting to die.  I suggest to you that you do the same.  At best, you may one day join the supercentenarian club - at worst, you will have spent your life enjoying it, others and learning about piles of things all over this blue and green planet.  

I'd say that is no loss either way.

Peace, love and get out there and enjoy it!
Ms. Daisy