Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Getting Old

One by one, things go by the wayside.

My waist, for starters!

I used to be a blonde. My hair gradually darkened, but I didn't notice, because I was out in the sun a lot, riding a bike to and from work in all weather. That kept the top layer of hair pretty well sun-streaked, and I just didn't look at much else. Then, I got a car. That's probably where my waist went, too. All that driving and no more biking and walking. Of course, quitting smoking seems to have had quite an effect on the waistline situation.

So, now I've got dumpy, and my hair has darkened to a nondescript shade of blackish-brown, with a goodly dollop of grey. All I can say is, "Come on, grey!"

My hearing is definitely going. All those loud concerts I went to back in the 70s, I guess.

Now, I need trifocals. Right now, I'm switching glasses. I have one pair that works for close work and distance, and another for the computer. It wouldn't be so bad, except that the first pair makes me feel 2 feet tall, and all this changing of height makes me dizzy.

Could somebody please tell me how, at an age when I'm supposed to be running short of calcium, my body appears to have enough reserves of the chalky stuff to put it in odd places, like the first joint of my right forefinger, and the bone at the base of my big toe?

So, thanks to the lack of a waist, I'm wearing baggy clothes. Thanks to the lump on my toe, my beautiful 9 West three-button, hourglass heeled black patent leather shoes are no more. Reebok stopped making my style of tennies--called The Classic, in case anyone cares. They have replaced that model with The Princess, and I've had a lot of shoe sales people tell me they're the same.

They're not.

I wear what I call "Croc-offs." The cheap Payless version of the now-famous Crocs. They are squishy and soft, and have support where I need it, and don't crowd my toes. I have several pairs--one without holes for rainy days and dressy occasions.

I hope they bring out a formal model soon.


  1. I am afraid of getting old because of the changes to my body. So far, so good (I am 48), but the waist thing freaks me out. By the way, I am adding you to the blogroll on my baby boomer blog.

  2. Thank you very much!

    My friends tell me I have a waist, but it's really just a dent in the fat.

    I see no reason to try and look youthful. That way, madness lies!

    I qualify as a "boomer," because I was born in 1949.

    All I can say is, if you smoke, quit now. If you don't, you're one up on the waistline situation.

  3. The passage of years and gravity humbles us all. Age doesn't deter me-it inspires me.