the art of becoming

         Years ago (and I mean years ago), I happened to be in the same restroom as a very well-dressed, sophisticated lady who appeared to be in her late eighties or maybe even early nineties.  We were both looking thoughtfully at our mirrored reflections, and I had to ask her – I had to ask somebody – why didn’t I see my wrinkles that I knew were there?  She smiled and told me, “You never will because your heart is young.”     

         This may be true, or it could just be like that due to my increasing nearsightedness.  But I prefer to think she was right.

         Recently, we went to a resort on an island just off Cancun.  Once we had boarded the catamaran to take us there, the captain of the boat asked me to come up and sit next to him.  How privileged I felt, how proud I was of my new hairstyle and the outfit that I had chosen for the boat trip.  How captivating I felt!  It reminded me of the last time I had felt that special and could turn heads.  (That should have been a warning!  The reason that heads were turning to follow me that day as I paraded past the patrons of the restaurant was that I had just visited the restroom and my dress was tucked up into the waist of my pantyhose.) 

         Ha!

         Back to the catamaran and the handsome driver.  When we were almost to the island, he leaned over and asked me if I needed wheelchair accommodations.  Then it dawned on me – he had asked me to sit next to him so I wouldn’t accidentally fall overboard.  My newfound confidence fell crashing into the sea, where it remained the entire time; for all intents and purposes, I believe that it is still there.

         I recently had to take one of the Great Danes to the vet.  While I was getting him settled in the examining room, I heard one of the vet techs talking to the lady at the desk.  The tech said, “Whenever I see one of these huge dogs, it’s with a little old lady.”  I peeked outside at the lobby, hoping to see this anomaly.  There was no one there.  Then I realized – I was the anomaly!

Now I am at the jumping-off place, to be sure.  Like an old shirt hanging on the clothesline, I am waiting for a) someone to eventually come along and remove the clothespins and free me or b) a good wind to decide matters for me.

         But you know, there are some upsides to this condition of LOL (Little Old Lady).  For instance, I have finally seen some age spots appear on the left side of my face. What a relief!  Previously, they had only been on the right side.  Well, now we’re getting somewhere, I thought.

         I do love my age spots, because I equate them with freckles.  The last time that I visited my dermatologist, he asked if I would like a laser treatment to get rid of the little spots.  I was horrified.  Never!

         Adding to this upside of getting old, I must admit that I love to go to the hospital.  Where else can I watch tv, read, be served meals (and not have to share), not have to do housework, etc.?

         When you are of advanced age, you don’t have to obey the arrows on the pavement in a parking lot.  You can go the wrong way; just assume the “elderly” pose at the wheel (hunched over and scoot down on the seat) and when you meet traffic headed in the correct direction, appear confused and pantomime sorrow.  But you are not sorry.  Not in the least.  You are just driving, and parking, creatively.  Nothing wrong with that.

         I must mention my creativity in eluding speeding tickets.  If you ever see the flashing lights directly behind you, immediately go into the elderly posture, pull over and act confused.  Keep your hands on the steering wheel in a conspicuous manner and you will make the police officer laugh.  No patrolman wants to give his grandmother a speeding ticket.  You will be set free very shortly.

         When you want special assistance on the phone, make your voice quaver and appear to be hesitant and helpless.  You will be able to bypass much bureaucracy and your requests will be hastened along; problems will be solved without you having to expend any energy.  Your “don’t know how to use a computer,” give me a break.  As soon as you hang up, you will immediately return to your online shopping!  You will have more time now that someone else has taken over your problems…

         Shuffling when you walk helps, too.  Peer doubtfully at the ground as you use crosswalks.  Be especially cautious when encountering cracks in asphalt.  No one has to know that you’re playing, “Step on a crack…”  No one would guess.  And clutch at your purse.  Wave slowly and pathetically when cars stop; hurry, limping, (or for special emphasis, drag a leg) as you cross in front of them and gesture piteously again.  Being played like this, people will cry out, “Don’t hurry; it’s okay!”  At times like this, you feel like you are the luckiest creature on the planet – to have reached an age where you live perpetually in a land of milk and honey.  The kindness of human nature overflows upon you!

And believe me, you are very thankful!

While you enthusiastically inhabit this guise of a crippled old woman, no one will ever allow you to replace a shopping cart.  And if you appear to struggle when loading the groceries into the trunk of your car, don’t worry, someone will help you.  Texas is populated by many chivalrous men.

    You will notice a sisterhood, much stronger than the one that bonds younger women, that 

claims elderly women when we happen to pass each other and we smile.  We share a secret.  See, we have figured it out; we are not helpless – we are slick.

    Your mind will forever acknowledge you as only 17 years old.  However, the age range of 

people who are attractive to you will span the years from, say, 18 to 95 and even beyond in certain cases. 

            A word of caution:  Be careful if you use shorthand notes. (Remember shorthand classes?) It really, truly looks like Arabic writing and this can be called into question at airports (true story).  Using it in a store list is okay, though; you might meet someone else who can decipher it and then you will have a new friend (also a true story).  

To be continued...