Aging Gracelessly

There are occasions when my mind tends to do far worse than wander. In fact I think it takes a hiatus from time to time. I try to cover it up, but never to much success.

"Your name is...."

I'll try this polite trick at boring family gatherings, where I should know the person to whom I'm speaking, but oh...that memory thing.

"Ann," she'll reply curtly.

"Oh, of course I know you're name is Ann," I'll exclaim. "It's your last name I've forgotten."

This, I feel, makes me appear less forgetful, and in my book is far less insulting to the recipient of my question. And it works... most of the time, unless of course the person I'm addressing is an immediate family member... like my sister.

Why do Americans feel the need to glamorize the aging process? Most cultures revere the aged. Their societies teach that to age is an honor. One has accomplished much and lived long, so if they forget a name from time to time...who cares? American culture on the other hand insists it is bad to age, and so has developed an entire regime to either attempt preventing the process or masking its arrival.

Watch any television program, and if the content itself doesn't hint at the perils of aging, just wait for the commercials instead. You'll see creams and serums to mask "fine lines" and plump up bags and sags. You'll see ads for plastic surgery to painfully alter what life mandates as natural progress. You'll view vitamins, minerals and miracles to sharpen your mind and raise your IQ, and you'll see old men dancing the night away in anticipation of popping a pill and getting lucky when they hit the hay.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm all about self-preservation and enjoying life to its fullest, but there's something to be said about reaching certain milestones. Is it really wrong to let nature take its course and incorporate a few sags and bags in discreet places? I view mine as battle scars. I've lived well, loved long, borne five children and even lived to tell about it. If I stood flawless in light of these accomplishments, who on earth would believe me?

I'm completely in favor of enhancing what little I may have left. I like to use moisturizer. I try to get a little exercise. And I make bold attempts at wearing flattering clothing.

I do not, however, succumb to the lure of surgical beauty enhancements. I don't tattoo on my aging eyebrows. I haven't had the age spots lightened with lasers. And I won't whiten my teeth to the point that they blind the drivers in oncoming vehicles.

I saw a fairly new ad last week. I actually thought for a fleeting moment that the ad industry had started embracing aging and was perhaps running a legitimate, tasteful piece. It's the ad where the attractive grandmother has been out for an afternoon motorcycle ride with her handsome grandson. The bike races into the neighborhood, and pulls up in front of the house. The lithe, long-legged grandma gets off the bike and removes her helmet. The audience gasps to learn she's that old. Oh, my! This must be an ad for hair color, right? Wrinkle cream? "Look your age and don't regret it" aromatherapy packs?

No. Diapers. This attractive lady was grateful to the makers of adult diapers. Their creation had allowed her an afternoon on her grandson's motorcycle. Now get real! What kid would want Grandma on the back, riding up close and personal on the back of his pride and joy...with a urine-soaked diaper? The advertising industry has once again failed us middle-agers.

I'd like to start a protest, but no one would listen. So I'll boycott. I'll vent. I'll write dumb pieces that nobody reads, and I'll share my opinion with a select group of well-chosen like-minded individuals. I realize the group may be small, but we're an important one. And we won't go down without a fight. We need to band together to fight the illusion that aging is a horrific process. Okay, it's not necessarily a big laugh-riot, but it's not so bad I'd have my face lifted, tummy tucked and breasts reconstructed. And I'll NEVER ride on the back of anyone's motorcycle if I experience any sort of bladder control problem. Aging takes common sense. Most things do. We don't need to age gracefully. We simply need to let aging take its process and enhance whatever we're left with as it goes. And that may mean staying within a reasonable proximity of a bathroom.

So remember these important words. I'm sorry to say I don't recall who said them.

"Optimists age like wine."

"Pessimists age like milk."

I'd like to invite you to age gracelessly with me, but am awfully sensitive to foul odors. You do the science!!