2010 January « Resisting Gravity

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Tina Bishop 10:43 pm on January 28, 2010 | 0 | # |

About six months ago I discovered something quite startling about myself: I had suddenly become a nonagenarian. That’s a fancy word for being over the hill.
I did not want a big, festive fuss on my birthday. A friend recently celebrated her 90th with a gala reception attended by 150 friends and relations. I really can’t think of a time in my life when I could have been honored by so many. Most of my old time friends are either dead or in rest homes, or have been added to my feud list.
How does one achieve the distinction of getting on that selective list? It’s relatively simple. A few ill-chosen words will do it. Let me suggest a few samples.
“Dear, you’re looking lovely as ever. How smart you were not to tell anyone about that face lift.”
“Put on a few pounds, haven’t you? I always say it’s better to blow up than to wrinkle up.”
“Even from across the room, I can always recognize you by your walk. When are you going to give up those ridiculous high heels?”
“Saw your husband in the supermarket the other day. The poor man looks so thin and worn out. Does he still do all the garden chores and the cooking, too?”
“Ran into your older son the other day. Too bad he doesn’t do something about that acne.”
“Thank you, honey, for that big box of clothes you sent to our thrift shop. The Actors Group’s always on the lookout for period costumes.”
I’m the last one to make trouble for a good friend, but I think you should know………….” That one takes the prize.
With friends like that, who needs new friends? Even at an advanced age, making new friends is not as hard as you might think. Lesson number one: even if your hip is killing you and you’ve just found out that you’ve over-drawn your bank account, keep smiling. A grumpy little old lady is far from appealing. A radiant smile will transform the most ancient of faces. Don’t look too helpless, but also avoid looking too feisty. A boastful, gutsy old type may be fun on a TV comedy, but in short order can become an awful bore.

Beware of bragging about your age. I have heard so many “Why God bless yous” that I am ready for a halo. I’m still waiting for someone to exclaim, “Ninety! I can’t believe it!”

PS Since I wrote this I’ve turned 92—and everyone believes it.
Tina Bishop 1:42 am on January 16, 2010 | 2 | # |

If you are lucky enough to be feeling perfectly healthy, stay away from the pharmaceutical ads on TV. (From now on, I’ll call then “drug” ads. Spelling’s a problem for me.)

According to these commercials, we are a nation in acute physical decline. Gas, bloating and diarrhea (with graphic depictions of our distress) seem to be endemic. But wait—a dose of Aunt Jennie’s Magic Elixir can fix all that in jig time.

But beware, the drug company warns us, “Do not take this medicine if you are subject to dry mouth, falling hair, hallucinations, occasional bad breath and frequent pregnancies.”

If your digestive system is functioning well, you’re lucky. But once in a while you could be feeling listless or depressed. There’s a cure for that condition, too. Be wary of dosing yourself for anxiety, high or low. “Consult your doctor before using this medicine as suicidal thoughts, nightmares, uncontrollable rages, and sudden switches from one political party to another can occur.”

For men who are suffering from once unmentionable “masculine” problems, the drug companies’ warnings are hilarious. Watch it, Buster, or you’ll be sorry. Too much plenty, no good.

Some of us are so impressionable that an ad about migraine can start a pulsing in our heads, and our bones ache when we see the arthritis ads. Our advice to them is as follows: turn off your TV, go off for a silent, bracing hour in the fresh air. As they say, “You’ll be glad you did.”
Tina Bishop 6:33 pm on January 9, 2010 | 1 | # |

2009 was for the most part, a year to forget. It started on a note of optimism. Our new President had promised so much and so many of his grand plans had been scuttled. It was to be expected that he would meet with brickbats and sledge hammers from those on the opposite side of the aisle, but the surprise alienation from those of his own party was a shock.

As a fervent Obama supporter, I must confess a certain disappointment in his record so far. Perhaps I had hoped for a miracle, a complete turn-around from the usual antics in Washington. The health bill finally seemed like a done deal. In order to placate some recalcitrant Democrat senators, it now comes with strings attached.

I am one of those elusive voters, a registered Republican whose last vote for a Republican was for Eisenhower, and who has voted the Democratic slate ever since. Call me an Independent, a creature much lusted for by both parties.

Last night Ron Paul was on the TV. Like many others, he is disgusted with the situation in Washington. He discussed the Tea Party group, a faction which in college would be labeled “nerds”, the misfits.

Unfortunately, unless things in Washington shape-up, the nerds may conquer all. We are at a cross road. Unless we watch out, a third party could sneak in and rule our world.

As a 92 year old woman, whose only political foray was a speech, made at 18, for Alf Landon, my interest in the future is fading, but I still would like to feel that my descendants will be living in happier times.

I can only croak out my dismay and hope that some one will listen.
Tina Bishop 4:27 am on January 1, 2010 | 1 | # |

It’s tough to be old. I sometimes think how much more bearable life would be if I could jettison two objects that bug me: mirrors and bathroom scales.

The old lady who had formerly owned my apartment ended up in a nursing home. Could those two full-length mirrors have hastened her departure? For the most part, I try to ignore them as I pass, particularly in the morning. Why start the day feeling depressed?

Friends are kind. They’ll tell you, “You look wonderful!” Your mirror will tell you the truth: your hair is thinning, your body is thickening, your jowls are growing more matronly and the bags under your eyes are detracting from your baby blues. To add to the bad news, the mirror will advise you to throw out your current wardrobe and put some money into more “age-friendly” garments.

As if that weren’t depressing enough, if I hold my hand-mirror in special way, over my head, I’ll be horrified to see what my taller friends see, a little pink patch of scalp among my grey hairs. With some artful combing this can be disguised, but if I live much longer, I’ll have to go shopping for a wig. Wigs are expensive, hot, and need just as much care as one’s own hair. My French great-grandmother, a lovely nonagenarian, wore a little lace triangle over her head. It was very becoming. Ah, that is the solution. Guess I can cross off baldness on my worry list.

Most devastating to my ego is the seldom- used magnifying part of my hand-mirror. Sometimes I use it by mistake. Never in my right mind would I want to see a close-up view of every pore, wrinkle and age spot in my face. Think I’ll paste a picture of a lovelier, youthful me on that cruel side of the mirror.

The other hateful household possession, the bathroom scale, is less often put to use. It, too, tells the truth. But, unlike a mirror, does not humiliate one by an image of all that “too, too, solid flesh.”

As a sensible old lady, I guess I’ll just have to control my urge to give them both the deep six. Perhaps, as a nonagenarian, I should concentrate on the spiritual side of my life. What do you advise?

Resisting Gravity

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Tina Bishop 10:43 pm on January 28, 2010 | 0 | # |

Tina Bishop 1:42 am on January 16, 2010 | 2 | # |

Tina Bishop 6:33 pm on January 9, 2010 | 1 | # |

Tina Bishop 4:27 am on January 1, 2010 | 1 | # |

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