Tag Archives: aging

Finally! We’re 65!

65 postIf there’s one thing I have learned over the more than two years that I have been writing this blog it’s that, while I am overall a pretty shallow gal, the one thing I am not shallow about is this blog. Funny, isn’t it? Perhaps even a little ironic, although I have a reliable source who informs me the word is used incorrectly about 95% of the time so you can decide if this is one of those. But funny or ironic, it’s not surprising really. You see for me, being shallow is not some sort of hobby or passing fancy. It’s a way of life. The lens through which I view the world. It’s the core of my very being. So what happens on this blog is important to me. And don’t get me wrong, things happen. At the beginning, you may recall that I expressed some concern about the possibility that writing about being shallow might result in my becoming less shallow. Fortunately, it hasn’t. In fact, while my goal has always been to help others better understand the life of a shallow person, I have come to the realization that, as an unexpected corollary, I too have come to a better understanding of such a life. Just by writing about it.

Honestly, if truth be told and you know it always is, I have to say I have learned more than one thing. I have also learned that, for the most part, shallow people try to view life from the sunny side. Which is not to say that everything is always hunky dory. You may recall that it is possible to be “shallow in a sad world” although one hopes that those times are few and far between. Not just for shallow people but for all people of course. But back to the point. Let’s think about aging. For some people aging is a bad thing. For some people the whole aging process reeks of fear and apprehension. But as a shallow person I have quite a different view about getting older. Let’s face it. Getting older is way better than the alternative. And there are perks. Like never having to lift your luggage off of those pesky carousals at the airport because, without exception, some young fella, seeing you standing there looking rather apprehensive about the prospect of lugging your inevitably overpacked case with the neon “heavy” sticker on it, will insist on doing it for you. And almost everything is cheaper. Movie theatres, drug stores, hotels, they all pay homage to the aged by at least 10%, most of the time. If you’re really lucky they’ll ask you for your ID before bestowing their gifts upon you. As you can see, even if they don’t there is a huge upside to reaching that magic age of 65. Which I haven’t of course. But with a modicum of luck, I eventually will.

And while I still have some time to put in before the “big day” you my friends, have finally made it! There are now 65 of you strong reading this blog. 65 people who have taken the initiative, the big step, that proverbial leap of faith and joined the shallow movement. 65 people who get this very blog sent to their email each and every time it is written. I know. Not all of the 65 are “actual” readers of the blog. Some of you only clicked on my blog so I would click on yours. Others simply want me to benefit from their surefire approach to increasing the revenue generated by my blog. Which in my case wouldn’t be all that difficult since even a buck would be a huge increase for me and I don’t really need to send $5.95 to a post office box in Utah to figure out how to raise that. Nevertheless, you are all here and you all count and I am supremely thankful for that.

Now I may be shallow but I’m no fool. I know that to some people 65 followers doesn’t seem like a lot. But I look at things a little differently. I look at things from the bright side and from that vantage point 65 is 65 more people than were reading anything I wrote two years ago. As a matter of fact, I’m guessing that nothing I have ever written has been read by more than 65 people. Except maybe the article I just had published in Nurse Education Today. Oh my! Did I just unabashedly and shamelessly plug myself in my own blog? Well there you have it. Proof positive that writing about being shallow has definitely not made me even one little iota less shallow. And from the sunny side of the street, that’s just hunky dory!

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It’s that time of year again

bus seatsI know! It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it? The thing is, I’ve been a little busy lately. As a matter of fact, right now I’m writing to you from just about 38,000 feet, listening to my fave chanteuse, Ms. Brandi Carlile, on my way to yet another conference. Which, if I do say so myself is quite an accomplishment since, not so long ago the only way I would get on one of these things was with the help of my “little white pill” and you certainly wouldn’t want to be reading anything I wrote in that state, even if I would have been able to write. I’ve come a long way in more ways than you can imagine. Because, if you have been reading this blog carefully you’ll know that around this time last year both me and the President of the United States of America had quite a lot to celebrate. One year ago, give or take a few weeks, Mr. Obama was reelected and I made my way into yet another decade (you don’t really expect me to tell you which one, do you). And, if I can speak for the both of us, the year has had its ups and downs, perhaps less for me than for him. After all, most of the web stuff I’ve developed over the past year has actually worked.

But that doesn’t mean it’s been smooth sailing. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I have a problem with getting older. Quite to the contrary, I actually think it’s a “good thing” given the alternative. As a matter of fact, I’ve managed to save quite a lot of money this year by taking advantage of all the discounts that have very recently been made available to me. Let’s face it, I’ve always enjoyed a good hotel but now I get to enjoy it 10 to 15% more, most of the time. And shopping has become a bit of a treasure hunt, what with all of the potential savings to be had on Tuesdays, my new favourite day. If only the sales clerks could remember to always ask me for my identification. It’s a funny thing the cycles of life. For years I hoped no one would make me take my pic out of my wallet to prove I had reached that all-important age of majority because really, how much more mature was I going to be once I did reach 18? But now I’m quite distressed when they take my word for it that I actually meet the requirements for their “special” prices. Which brings me to the one thorn in my side, fly in the ointment, wrinkle in an otherwise well thought out plan.

You’ve heard it before. The boomer generation has redefined aging. Well why not? We’re a big group of people and that’s what big groups of people do. So it shouldn’t surprise anyone that we’ve managed to convince the rest of you that “60 is the new 40” whatever that might mean because I’m afraid most of us can barely remember 40. Nonetheless, I’m going to come right out and say that I’ve done a pretty good job of staying fit, at least enough that I can still do 5 long ones on the treadmill without causing any serious damage. And when people who haven’t seen me for quite some time proclaim, “you haven’t changed a bit” I try my best to believe them. Which is why I found my recent experience on the Tube (you recall it was not all that long ago I was wandering the streets of London) just a tad concerning.

As a Mother of two fine young men, I know it was incumbent upon me to ensure that my sons were aware that, finding themselves seated on any type of public transportation meant they needed, at all times, to be prepared to relinquish their seats to someone older and perhaps wiser than them. It’s the right thing to do. Period. Well other Moms, you and I may have made a mistake. You see, on my most recent travels, almost without fail, as I stood comfortably and securely holding on to the poles provided for just that purpose, some young man would politely tap me on the shoulder and say “Ma’am, please take my seat”. And while I knew his Mother would be proud I, on the other hand, was just a tad mortified. Because up until that very point in time I was happy in my illusion, content to think that I really “hadn’t changed a bit”. But that one act, that innocent and generous gesture, that simplest of requests, that one thing, in and of itself, burst my bubble and made me realize that no matter how much I want to believe otherwise, to those who don’t know me, I have changed, likely quite a lot. And in that moment, my otherwise smooth ride became just a little bumpy.

So Mr. Obama, it looks like we made it through year one and as you begin the second year of your term I wish you all the best. As we both continue on our journeys, here’s hoping the ride will be a smooth one from here on out. Although, if you don’t mind me saying, I’d like to think that my term will last a whole lot longer than yours.

Before I leave, a quick thanks to my little bro’ for the idea for the post. It helped unblock the writer in me and now you can blame him for this one.

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