Over the Hill and Sliding Down the Other Side

On my next birthday I will turn 66, which sounds pretty damn old to my ears, and yes, I can still hear. I got this way by waking up every morning and not dying, so now I am this age.

I still do almost all the things I did when I was young, just not the dumb things. Truth be told, I don't run anymore because of a bad hip caused by years of abuse --running-- but other than that things are pretty much the same. I still color my hair which I started doing at age 13 so it's not gray as far as I can tell, still wear size 8 jeans, still have all my teeth except for one way in the back that can only be seen if I laugh really hard, which happens less and less often these days so is not worth the thousands of dollars it costs for a fake implant. I still listen to rock music and eat pot brownies, mostly because smoking it is bad for the lungs and I still have two of them. In fact I have all my body parts and most of them work, including my brain. I can still spell words I never heard before, a skill that has gotten me exactly nowhere but which gives me immense pleasure anyway. Despite all this, society sees me as an old coot.

Last night I saw a new movie that perpetuates a couple of silly myths about aging. Ironically, I got in for three bucks less than my cradle-robbed husband for some reason I don't understand--I mean, does Warren Buffett get that senior discount too? Anyway, "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel" features several very fine actors who actually have a lot of wrinkles in real life, so the producers must have saved a bundle on make-up. The story centers on a group of British oldsters who emigrate to India instead of living out their meager, wrinkly lives in Great Britain, opting instead for one final and affordable adventure outside their comfort zones. Way outside.

The movie offers a fun look at India, but some of the plot is gag-worthy. For example, one myth is that women north of 70 still desperately want a boyfriend. This is poppycock, plain and simple. While I love my husband and hope he outlives me so I never have to face a single day without him, if he were to keel over tomorrow I would not be out bar-hopping, shopping for his replacement. In fact, I might even let myself go, put on a few pounds and walk around the house in a flowered shmatte without a bra. Another myth is that old people desperately want sex but can't have it. Wrong! The ones who still want it want it because they can have it, and the ones who can't have it don't want it anymore. (It's all got to do with hormones, look it up.) And speaking as someone who's been at it for like 40-plus years, sometimes enough is enough.