He's right, of course: I really do go to bed by eleven and I really don't want to go out clubbing and I really do prefer my generation's music to all others, except for Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin who I always have time for. Not only that, but I've been known to take a stool softener--sue me. Besides, the worst thing you can do is try to fake it. Be your age, dammit! It's embarrassing when I see my peers clinging to their lost youth. I want to run up to them and shout, "It's not working!" For example, lately Hillary has been letting her hair grow long. If it's a ploy to hide the scars of an impending face lift, all is forgiven and I envy her courage, otherwise she should just take a good look in the mirror and see that her flowing blond locks just don't cut it....no pun intended.
Yesterday I had most of my hair buzzed off. Now, instead of matronly and dowdy I look trendy and maybe a tad gay. Either one is better than grasping.
