Age is a Helpless Hurt

Willie Mayes said, 'Age is a helpless hurt,' and some days I know just what he means.

I'm in my early fifties so I'm not even, by my calculations, in the third act of my life. Sometimes I imagine the best is yet to come. Other times I have to admit, the best, at least my physical best, is in the past.

What has ol' Maddy Moore singing the blues? Wrist pain. My wrists hurt and I'm trying to write, here! Grumble...

Also, I'm a bit weary of the baby boomers (and I believe we're in the process of rebranding ourselves as 'zoomers') insisting that fifty is the new thirty. I've been thirty. I've been fifty. Fifty is not the new thirty.

One thing maturity has done for me is make me leery of jumping on bandwagons. I come from the generation that said 'Never trust anyone over thirty.' Well, we're over thirty now, folks. Deal with it.

It bugs me that people with $$ will not only be more secure than I will be in my old age, but better looking! I don't want a face lift or botox, but I wouldn't say no to a little human growth hormone...or smart lipo...although...

I've anticipated being a cranky, pink or blue rinsed ol' lady for decades. I promised myself a little leeway in the 'dress and deportment' areas of my life. I don't want to be a 'zoomer.'

I just want my wrists to stop aching.

Man Candy Monday

Here's some Back Candy to help you launch your work week.

OK, I admit it, he's probably gay...I copped him from the comments section of a gay guy's myspace page.

He sure is sexy, isn't he? Lookit his downy back, doncha wanna lick it?
Go ahead. I dare you.