Great Things About Being Sixty…and other nonsense
There’s a lot I love about being sixty. No, really.
I’m really comfortable in my own skin, (though it appears to be coming loose from my body and hanging languidly from my frame.I don’t love that. ). I like the person I am. I accept myself. I’m not buying any more self improvement books, no exercise equipment, no diet plans.
Actually, I’m not buying much of anything, being on a fixed income and all. But it’s cool.
I love that I can get by with outrageous behavior or comments. It’s like being a three year old. I can dress weird, talk to strangers in public places, embarrass my children as they once did me. I can joke and tease, even flirt. No one takes me seriously because of my age.
I also hate that no one takes me seriously because of my age. But this is about things I love about being sixty, so I’ll leave that alone. I just have to say I find it unfathomable that Donald Trump can be elected to the highest office in the country at seventy, but I am unsuitable to be a receptionist in a doctor’s office because I’m too old. Also Trump is unsuitable…
At my age one becomes more aware of time. For me this is a good thing because I’m a procrastinator. In fact, I meant to write this yesterday, but I put it off a day. When you’re sixty, you may not stop procrastinating entirely, but you know you can’t afford to wait too long for the things that are most important. I’ve always thought myself a distance runner in life, pacing myself, hoping I was saving a little something for a big finish near the end. I’m sixty, so I have only about thirty or forty good years left. Haha. The truth is; we never know how long we have left on Earth. Anyone can die at any time. Dying is scary, but not living the life you have left is even scarier.
It’ll really piss me off if I die before I accomplish the things I hope to, so I have to stop procrastinating. Soon. Very soon.
Standards of beauty are lower for people “of a certain age”. She looks great for her age. No one ever says that about a twenty five year old, do they?Well, I do. Now.
I’m okay with looking good for my age, if that’s the best compliment I can get. I may have to say I’m seventy to get it. Whatever.
Mental acuity is ever being scrutinized. Still sharp as a tack, is a compliment said of older citizens. Thankfully, I’m a little young to receive that back hand compliment. Pretty smart for my age, not brain dead yet, thank you very much.
Of course, I do forget names sometimes. And I forget the correct word or name for something. Once, I forgot khalbasa, the actual meaning of the word. I saw the word and my mind went blank for a minute, actually about thirty frightening, am I losing it, minutes. Then, I remembered. Crazy. We had it for dinner a month or so before.
Did I mention the drugs?No? Well, although, I joke that my drug of choice is sugar, I take lots of drugs. Prescription drugs. Apparently, a side effect of one of them, is problems with word retrieval and memory. Whew! I was a little worried, but I’m not sick. It’s not dementia. I’m a drug addict.
Also a sugar addict. That’s no lie. It’s shocking that my weight is normal, since I must eat something sweet every day… or I will die! After three days with no cookies, candy, or ice cream; I found a container of marshmallow creme in the cabinet and ate some with a spoon. My family is probably planning an intervention.
Being sixty means I can be honest about who I am. I don’t worry about being liked or accepted.
Not that I ever tried to win a popularity contest. When I was teaching, I was nominated twice for an award that I always thought was based not on job performance, but popularity. I knew I wouldn’t win because I was always too busy working my ass off to kiss butt. I admit I am a really bad loser. I wanted to pull a Kanye, and rip the award from the recipient’s undeserving hands. Not really. Haha.
I may have offended fellow teachers with my outspoken views. For example, once during a school uniform discussion, a teacher had expressed her strong personal bias favoring uniforms, saying such things as, “ uniforms will decrease bullying and improve student behavior”.
I said, “ Really? They wear uniforms in prison and they sodomise each other .”
She picked up her food tray and walked out of the break room. I may have crossed a line. I doubt I got her vote. On the plus side; no student uniforms. Suck it, miss perfect!
I’m a good person, but a horrible example of a native Texan. I don’t drink iced tea, don’t support capital punishment. I voted for Hillary. I support sensible changes to current gun laws. I don’t own a gun. I support legalisation of marijuana (no, I don’t smoke pot). I sympathize with immigrants. If I were living in violent or deplorable conditions and I could get into America by any means possible, I would do it.
I am braver and more daring now that I’m older. Recently, I killed a spider with my bare hand! Being a pacifist, I usually avoid such violence, but I felt threatened. I was naked and the spider was attempting to jump into the bath with me. Everyone has a breaking point. This is mine. I am naked and you attempt to get into my bath uninvited, I will take you out.
There are a plethora of positives about being sixty if you think about it. So many wonderful experiences and interesting stories, the people I’ve met, and the history I’ve lived through. I can’t think of a better generation.
Old age is designed to make death appear desirable. I’m not falling for that! I will not be seduced by death. I’m loving this old age thing. Sure. Of course, I am.