Selected Ambient Works by...the Aphex Twin?
Huh. What happened to the easy listening station?
No. No more of that. We need to challenge our brains. We need difficult listening.
Why? I like Celine Di---
Nope. If I hear Celine sing about her heart going on, I promise you...mine will stop going on in protest
(flicks the station…strains of Bon Jovi’s “Shot Through the Heart”)
Aww, remember when…
Stop. If you say remember when we all looked like Bon Jovi, I’m jumping out of this car.
But…(twirls finger near ear)…the hair?
In case you are really happy about that, consider this. You are now 5 days older than you were on Monday and about 3 seconds older than the sentence right before this one (when we were all, yay...Friday!) When you are done reading this blog you will be a few minutes older than when you started. Or, given the length of my blogs...ages older.
Why do I insist on being such a killjoy you ask? Misery loves company. Yes, that’s my name…Misery (just eat a couple of marshmallows and then say it. See?)
So, yes. I’m misery and I hate doing things alone. Including the whole rapidly aging thing.
To help prevent the speed at which you decline, you need people in your life who won't let you get old. My sister and I hold each other accountable for this. She is always checking to make sure that I'm not eating supper at 4:30pm or going to bed at 7:30pm. She frequently asks me what year it is (and makes me write it). She doesn't let me reminisce beyond a decade (she strictly bans use of the word decades at all, regardless of the reference).
For my part, I'm always reminding her that it is not a tan, it is 9 million freckles banding together and mapping out a good place to lay down some wrinkles, in other words - did she wear sunscreen? We join forces to help out my parents simply by making sure that they don’t stay in their pajamas all day, as tempting as it may be, considering their tightly packed schedule of couch occupation.
We both make each other download phone apps with “mind challenge” games but neither of us confess that we can't play them too early in the morning. Or without the aid of coffee. Or very late into the evening. Or early evening? (we’re so very tired). Or against those random opponents that Google thinks are a good match (we definitely appreciate the anonymity, though). Or without the aid of a teenager at whom to yell "A mammal! Starting with f! Go!" and having them yell back “frog!" and then type in frog and then have the game tell you it is not actually a mammal but an amphibian and then yell - "That's not a mammal, it’s an amphibian!! Don't they teach you anything in Science?" As if we are experts in all things frog. Or anything frog. In other words, we are...um, not very good at those games?
I recently watched the movie "Age of Adaline". It's the one where Blake Lively gets struck by lightning at the age of 29 and from that point on she doesn't age, she just stays stuck at 29 forever. "Twenty-nine and holding...!" (we get it). Clearly I didn't miss my calling as a movie reviewer because I left out a few details. The movie did get to me a little, though. And it's not, I repeat not... because I'm jealous of Blake Lively - jealous, please. Imagine being ten feet tall and gorgeous, married to (Canadian and Superhero) Ryan Reynolds (probably not how he introduces himself to people) And now she has to stay that way forever?
What cataclysmic ruination! What disastrous calamity! (what did we say about throwing the thesaurus at people, Google?) (it’s Friday…Google thinks it’s no holds barred day).
I feel for poor Blake! I mean, you know...everyone else around her starts to get old and wrinkled, forgetful, sick, and eventually dies! Where she, on the other hand, stays young and vibrant for all eternity! Why would I be jealous of that?
I know it's a movie…(what, I know?) I know that Ryan Reynolds is not really a Superhero (pretty sure). But the movie makes you think. Blake was jonesing for grey hair by the end of the movie. She actually wanted to age. She was tired of looking fantastic. Of falling in love any old time...even at 107...if she wanted. She was bored of knowing 17 languages and the answer to every single Trivial Pursuit question. Imagine her suffering! Her struggle! I wanted to reach out to her. I wanted to understand her fate...maybe, oh I don't know...live a day in her Jimmy Choos? Then I could be of more help to her. Considering I'm a bit of a slow learner, I think I'd need at least a week or two. You know...to really "get" her plight?
Anyway, it’s Friday and you’re not getting any younger so let’s quickly summarize.
Despite how it may sound, I’ve made my peace with aging. We shook hands (we crossed our fingers behind our backs but we both kinda knew the other one was doing it). I’m holding up okay? I haven’t noticed a single new wrinkle in at least 4 days. I only hang on to the railing when I climb the stairs if my arms are full of stuff. Or if I’m tired. Or if I’m---wait, wait…listen. The railing is for holding on to, okay? Let’s not make that a thing.
It’s Friday and I am still (relatively) happy about that, despite the fact that I’m an entire week older than last Friday.
Who was it that said the great line….”we’re not getting older – we’re getting better!
(no one knows. They have since passed on…)