You Know You're Getting Older When

I am 52.
I am married to a man who will be 60 this year. I am still very youthful in attitude, and I think in looks, but recent things have reminded me that I am NOT 30 anymore, and in the process of becoming invisible, like most people between 50-100 become.  'Tis a shame because the younger ones miss out on all the knowledge and stories that we have.  Perhaps if they paid more attention to us, future generations MIGHT REALLY change the world.


Today, when filling out a survey for the store EXPRESS, I got a shock.  The survey was supposed to take 15 mintues, but I figured out that I could do it in 5.  FIrst question-my gender. Easy. I didn't even have to look.  Question 2: my age group.  I was in the last one, 50+.  I hit enter.  A pop up said "Thank you, you have now completed the survey". I was insulted, outraged.  Because of my age, I was no longer valuable for their consumer survey.

A similar thing happened on a survey I did for Victoria's Secret.  It was obviously intended for the 18-30 crowd, whose bellies and breasts have not been irreversibly altered by the birth of children and the ravages of time. Yet us older folks still like to make the best out of what we have and YES, WE STILL LIKE TO LOOK SEXY,and you know, we probably have better sex than they do because we know how to ask for what we want and have experience.  But we go unrepresented, and largely ignored. 

In conclusion, I'd like to include a few stanzas from a poem that really makes sense to me now:

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple

with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired

and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

and run my stick along the public railings

and make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

and pick the flowers in other people's gardens

and learn to spit.

Photo from the air of the Newburgh area.  The airport parking lots were a mess, with giant mounds of snow from what lots they could plow and many parking spots filled with snow.

I got a spot not too far away.

Off to take a breather in the 60 degree weather!

Patti