Tag Archives: Aging

Dinner with Friends

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POB (partner of blogger) and I went out on Saturday night with two couples after about six months of juggling schedules.

One of the couples are the parents of our son’s best friend (BestFriendCouple, aka BFC) and the other couple are the parents of our son’s betrothed (FutureWifeCouple, aka FWC).  Forgive the identification in relation to children, but let’s be honest here, we are now someone’s Mom or Dad.  For at least half of our waking hours, our identities are in direct relation to our progeny. It is what it is.  Life never asks if you like what has happened, it just dares you to deal with it.

You may remember FWC from prior blog entries.  The dad is the Gentle Giant, until our kids get too serious and then I will start wearing body armor.  Until then, life is good.

POB and I decided to walk part of the way to dinner, along the Hudson River so we could feel the breeze should one arrive and give momentary relief to blazing hot and humid New York City.  As we walked along we saw the preparations for the next day’s triathlon in which people (of questionable mental acuity) run, bike and swim in forecasted 93 degree weather.  And the swim is in the Hudson River.  (By the way, if any skimmers in the Gulf are idle, we could use them to get the gross garbage and scum off the water’s surface.)  There were signs for the line-ups depending on your skill set:  Elite men under 35, Elite senior men, etc.  As we walked, I was looking for my category should I ever enter such a race:  “Women Far Too Decrepit For Middle Age” or “Those Desiring A Watery Demise“.

Apparently, I won’t even get a slot even as a “Hail, Mary” contestant.  I’m ok with it.  I will live longer for not swimming in the Hudson River, even with a wet suit.  There are beautiful bodies of water with a vast, healthy ecosystem (until we find out about them and then ruin them), there are bodies of water with foundering ecosystems (the Gulf, for example), there are dead bodies of water (one or more of the Great Lakes) and then there is killer water which will destroy and corrode anything that dares enter its watery slaughterhouse.  THAT, that is the Hudson River.  Hint:  it has a menacing brown color.

Because we are New Yorkers, we were hungry after our walk, EVEN AFTER discussing whether a life form in the Hudson River could mutate enough to survive nuclear holocaust and repopulate the world in a crazy-horror-flick-come-true scenario.  We NYers are a hearty people.

We arrive early at the restaurant so we can pretend that we are not middle-aged and possibly flirt with, and coo at, each other.  Since our son may read this one day and I already cannot afford the therapy that having two moms will cost, I will stop at this.

Lucky for our son, FWC arrived.  Wife of FWC (WFWC) looked very stylish (she is not yet middle-aged so it was ok).  I think she was wearing jeans that are like leggings.  On her, it worked.  But for everyone else, DO NOT TRY THAT AT HOME.  It could lead to unsightly consequences.  The Gentle Giant, also H of FWC (HFWC) is a terrific guy and bravely ordered an unpronounceable drink.  WFWC tried one that sounded like, if you didn’t like it, it could also be a spa treatment.  I was eying the cucumber slice garnish and thinking about the laugh wrinkles POB mentioned in our abortive attempt to flirt and coo.  Note to readership: “I love your laugh wrinkles” does not put one in any “mood” worth having.  Just saying.

Shortly thereafter, BFC arrive.  The husband (HBFC), who has been busy being “Dad” these last few months, gravitated to HFWC for manly, over-8 year-old talk.  Soon they were drinking beer.  Which is to say that it is primal that men, in the company of other men, eschew foofy drinks with unpronounceable names in favor of BEEHHHH (beer) or possibly even LAGGGEH (Lager).  The foofy drinks are just to show off one’s feminine side and gain points with your wife’s friends.  I still think that lesser men in the presence of four strong women would have stayed with the foofy drinks.   So, bravo to these two husbands (who are today shepherding their children to assorted events while the wives relax or go to the gym, G-d bless them).

So, WBFC and I haven’t had much time over this last year to chat.  And we sit opposite each other at the table.  We are both very opinionated and believe that everyone is entitled to hear our opinions — from the what-were-you-thinking-when-you-got-that-tattoo to why we are living the dreams of our unionizing forebears even though we are not unionized and work long hours, etc.  Our upbringings are as strikingly similar as our backgrounds are diverse.  Totally awesome.

Then we all had too much inspiration and meaningful conversation. It was time to DISH on those whom we know in common.  So, four women between 40 and 46 (old enough to know better), started sentences with “omigod, can you believe . . . . ?“ in loud voices.  SOOOOOOO MUCH fun.  The boys were probably talking about hunting because they kept ordering BEEEEHHHH or LAGGGEH.

Having had two glasses of wine — my upward limit — the rest is a blur of delicious food and vicious conversation.  So much fun that I even forgot (until writing this entry) that POB mentioned my wrinkles.

What wrinkles?

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So, canyoubelieveit, someone asked my opinion

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No sooner did I write about not being polled, than I answered a phone poll.  About my local Congressman.  What I answered surprised me.

Charlie Rangel has been great to NY and the country.  He also has some alleged ethical lapses.  Serious (alleged) ones.  He is 80 years old and probably should make way for the younger generation (who are nearly eligible for AARP benefits).

But, Charlie Rangel remained a steadfast liberal even when it was a dirty word.  He spoke up against the tyranny of fear-mongering during the Bush years, even when others (whom we thought were strong) cowered.  He has worked hard for over forty years to move America forward.

Assume what is alleged is true.  He failed to pay taxes on investments and improperly owns too many apartments in a subsidized building.  I am ok with it.  (Not HAPPY, but ok if I hold my nose.)  I guess I have mellowed or my righteous indignation has been spent on other, more deserving targets.  Or, I guess I put it into perspective of what other politicians did — sold their votes to big oil, took us into a war that was a mistake, vilified a group of Americans or immigrants for political gain, stoked the birther movement for political gain.  I could go on and on.

Yes, he should retire soon (and wear an orange jumpsuit if he is guilty) and let the younger politicians carry the torch, but right now we need people who are experienced in the trenches and are squarely on the side of the President to help the President get us out of the mess created by 8 years of George and Dick.

So, guilty or not, Charlie is my man.

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Let’s Party Like It’s 1929

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If I read the news, I will go into that bad place in my head that holds all my fears of being destitute and homeless.

The stock market is tanking, confidence is tanking, the economy is sputtering, unemployment is high and nerves are frazzled.  At first, everyone was talking about a double-dip recession, then about, PHEW, how we escaped the double-dip and now, how it looks like a triple-Lutz-followed-by-triple-pike-nosedive recession.

No prognosticator today can know for sure what the Monday morning quarterback will say with a certain smug clarity (after all, he who survives gets to write the history). 

But that doesn’t stop the pundits from scaring me to distraction.

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I am your mirror (just one more reunion story)

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We were at a sit-down, dressed-up dinner on the lawn in front of the library at the College.  We were sipping champagne in a beautiful setting and we were nostalgic and wistful and glossing over the really bad things that happened there.  It felt like we were in a film about British aristocracy before World War I.  My inner snob was momentarily overwhelming my otherwise egalitarian (and self-satisfied) character.

And, then . . .

And, then —

From stage left, I heard a loud booming voice breaking through my revelry, rising above the din and seemingly causing the sumptuous scenery to fall away: 

“[Blogger], I hear you have a partner!! How could I have been your roommate for a year in college and not have known you were gay? 

I think you’ll agree that I am pretty intuitive?!

So, I decided you didn’t know either.  Am I right?  I am right, aren’t I.  Yup, I knew it. 

You look great by the way.  You have a son.  Did you have it or did she or neither?” 

WHOA!!!!

And I thought my sexual orientation was just about me.  And I thought people didn’t ask about paternity and maternity in polite company.  Nah, this is reunion after all, and I am “radically” different than I was 25 years ago.

I adore this person.  And her comments were so authentically “her” that I just smiled, laughed and enjoyed the feeling of 25 years just melting away. 

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Beauty Hints

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The craziest people in our class are plastic surgeons.  You might expect that they would wield knives, but not necessarily for good or ethically neutral purposes if you know what I mean.

So, one of our group compiled a list of beauty secrets:

1. Still a #1 choice in the lip category — Chanel. Twinkle is a bit more gold tone, and Blizzard more rose. Both are frosted, not matte. Chanel gloss stays on well and is very moisturizing. Unlike regular lipstick and some other glosses, I find it has no taste. I am giving this product 4 out of 4 stars, with a high $$$. Available in most department stores.

2. Trish McEvoy. Excellent cosmetic line in general. I use her pressed powder and eye shadows. This line sells the items with magnets on the bottom so they all fit neatly into one small compact organizer. This is a mid-tier price line for cosmetics, but very high $$$$ for skin treatments. I use her Beta Hydroxy pads, but I cut them in half to stretch them further. Her Beauty Booster moisturizer is expensive, but could change your life.

3. Trish McEvoy lip products. Really love her Esential Lip Pencil in Baby Pink. These pencils are not like some other pencils which are liners or stain — these are all over coverage like lipstick. They are not drying. I use her lip gloss over the pencil in the Very Sexy shade, which is essentially clear. But these lip glosses are very moisturising and also have no taste. The lip pencils and glosses come in other shades, but Baby Pink and Very Sexy are my choices.

4. Cle de Peu under eye concealer and liquid foundation. These are very $$$$$ products, but if you have dark eye circles like me you would pay any amount for the concealer. The foundation is like silk and does not break my skin out like many other products. Has SPF 22. Have only seen this line at Neiman Marcus and Saks — recommended by In Style magazine.

5. Yonka Masque for Sensitive Skin. Had a facial with this line of products at Mandalay Bay. My skin felt like a baby’s butt. I called the spa afterward to get the name of the products. Sold only in salons, I prefer the Trish McEvoy beauty booster, but love the masque.

You cannot go wrong with this list.  The provider of the list looks FABULOUS!!!!!

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Gender Neutrality and other things

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At Reunion, we stayed in the dorms.  Because there is one (count with me, ONE) inn in the entire town.  Don’t think Jesus in the manger.  Think Daniel Webster, as in, “it is a small college, Sir, but there are those of us who love it.”

Our dorm was a “gender neutral environment”.  None of us knew what that meant.  We felt a little dumb asking undergraduates who weren’t alive when we were at the College to explain it.

Apparently, all the bathrooms are co-ed but the toilets and the showers are single room occupancy only.  But the toilet is separate from the shower.  Maybe teenagers and 20-somethings don’t have to pee before they shower (let’s not imagine the Seinfeld episode, for surely it will blind us), but 46 year-olds do.  So we have to go from our rooms into the hall way into a toilet and then out into the hall way and back into the shower.  Too many opportunities to flash too much flesh even though we were wearing our granny bathrobes.  And, as earthy as some of us (me) are, we all wore flip-flops into the shower, because as one said, “there is hair in there and it belongs to someone we don’t know and that is just gross.”

I believe I overheard someone saying she Purelled her feet after taking a shower but I could be making that up.

And, and, many people complimented me on my fragrance.  It was my friend’s bug spray.  I’ll get the brand and publish it in another blog.

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What a difference 25 years makes

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Ok, so I was “chubby” (work that euphemism with me, please) in college.  Once leaving college, coming out and feeling the rhythm of post-college, I lost weight — a lot of weight — and resumed being the skinny kid I was before 11th grade. 

Of course, many people haven’t seen me in 25 years.  (Some one asked me, “so were you thin in high school and then just went out of control for the college years?)  Now the guys, now a little chunkier with a lot less hair, were checking me out.  I was amused by it, and a little creeped out because they were married. 

In fact, two of my married friends were hit on by married-men-not-their-husbands.  Really?  Really?  I thought one of the waitresses was really cute (a grad school graduate picking up extra money — I was in the back talking to a fellow classmate who owns the catering company and she introduced me to her husband the chef and the entire staff).  Hey, if everyone is checking out people, I could, too.  And besides it would be too ooky to check out my classmates, even though many clearly did.  One of my friends, a straight woman, saw this same waitress seemingly sweltering in the heat in her uniform and said to her, “You look hot!”  As in, “it is Hot Like Africa Hot here and you must be sweltering and sweating into my food and that is too gross!”  Still, my friend reported to the group that she told the waitress she was HOT!  I love my friends.

In a too-weird-for-words episode, I was standing with some friends on Main Street and a guy comes barreling out of the nearby café to talk with one of my friends. The guy says “how’s the film business in NY?”  Ok, my friend isn’t in film anymore (as in not for 20 years) and he isn’t in NY.  So, my friend says where he is and what he does and the guy says, “you may know my brother! He died in 1996 but, before he died he was the foremost authority on [the most obscure crazy thing NO ONE has ever thought about].” Ok, now that is a conversation stopper. What do you say, “So, you like staying in the dorms?” or “Got kids?” 

Somethings a person doesn’t need to remember:  nicknames like Crabs, Stain, Fiend and — yes — Swivel. 

Finally, in the too-late for this reunion, but something to remember for next time: 

When someone asks you what you do after blowing hard about all the fabulous things he or she does, just say, ” I just released an album about yodeling.  You might recognize certain cuts from the Sound of Music, but I included more authentic tunes and some new, really edgy stuff.  If you would like, I can put on my lederhosen and bring out my trumpet-like instrument and demonstrate.”

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The 25th College Reunion That Was

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According to the new-ish President of the College, Dartmouth alums are different because we cry when we sing the Alma Mater.  I am not a sentimental type about my college years and it is hard to cry when part of a verse talks about having rocks in our brains (see below).

Dear old Dartmouth, give a rouse, For the College on the hill,
For the Lone Pine above her, And the loyal ones who love her [words omitted]
Though ‘round the girdled Earth they roam, Her spell on them remains.
They have the still North in their hearts, The hill winds in their veins,
And the granite of New Hampshire In their muscles and their brains.

Crazy, right? I cried like a baby.

It was good to be back on the Hanover Plain.  The campus is just beautiful and being in an environment with undergraduates reminded me of the gift of learning.  In the midst of this beauty with a diverse undergraduate body of scholar-athlete-artists, it can be hard to remember how racist and misogynist the campus was in the early 80s, but that, too, must be acknowledged.

And, that, and for a group of friends, who have known each other for 29 years, we celebrated our years there, and also 25 years of life since then and the friendship bonds that have sustained us. 

I think what makes us unique is how we celebrated.

  • First, we talked about deal breakers for new relationships (some of us are not married; and we also talked about when we are — G-d forbid — widowed).   One mentioned that her much older aunt was seeing this man who was terrific in every way (wait, he was really cheap – so not every way) but when they were both in the airport traveling east to see family, she said, “Watch my bags, I am going to the restroom” and his response was, “Oh, I don’t bother; I wear Depends”.  Thereafter, ensued a spirited conversation about medical versus recreational use of adult diapers as a bright line deal breaker.  [Blogger comment: we are 45 but we like to be ready for big life decisions so we start thinking about these things ahead.  Also, many of us after childbirth cannot sneeze without worrying about leakage.]
  • Second, we got teary-eyed about the meaning of our friendships and how we are each other’s go-to people in a crisis.  We laughed, we cried, we hugged and we clasped hands and celebrated being together. [Blogger:  some random people tried to break into these deep moments and change the mood and we wouldn’t let them.]
  • Third, some of us played beer pong until 4:30am just like in college.  Others of us, not so much.  [Blogger comment: Of course, everyone was tired because college beds and prison beds are not that dissimilar.]
  • Fourth, we really played it to the bone. We were direct with each other and with our other classmates.  One asked another, “are we supposed to be ok with your drinking this weekend?”  Another said to a surprise attendee, “You really need to apologize for [disappearing without a word for 23 years after his best friend asked him to be his best man].”  [Blogger comment: This was not for the faint of heart.  We asked and wanted answers.]
  • Fifth, we were each other’s memory-recall buttons and coaches.  One of our number kept asking us, “did I have a fling with that guy?” and we did our best to keep the record straight.  Another gave us a real teachable moment when, being introduced to someone, she said, “Nice to meet you” and he said in a slightly hurt (possibly belligerent) way, “we know each other”.  Then the friend remember the fling that happened more than a quarter-century ago.  The resulting advice was to say, “good to see you” to everyone and anyone.  [Blogger comment: This is in addition to the old standby, “Good for you!” Really, good, GOOD, for you!”.]

Next blog entry will be the crazy things that happened while we were there.

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A confession

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I have been strong and even-keeled about my 25th college reunion — ok, maybe the sheer number of blog entries suggests otherwise.

I have to confess that I have been working my triceps and biceps because CLEARLY I will feel less like a failure standing next to my classmates who are CEOs of Fortune 500 companies if my biceps and triceps are toned.

I mentioned this to a work colleague who said:

“Or you can either (i) wear long sleeves or (ii) keep your arms glued to your sides.” 

Now, that was brilliant.  She should go instead of me.  (It took me a while to realize that she wasn’t suggesting I actually glue my arm to my sides, which I also thought was a brilliant idea.)

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Letting the days go by, water flowing underground

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Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground

Ok, it is a little crazy to meditate on the words to a Talking Heads song Once in a Lifetime

I am just six days away from my 25th college reunion, and so I am in a slightly maudlin and definitely introspective mood.

I have 8 wonderful women friends from college and we have seen each other through 25 years of life’s highs and lows.  We have known each other for longer than we were alive when we met. 

We all know that each of us cherishes these friendships, but right now we are stressing about what to wear and whether we will be able to survive a few nights of dorm living.  Today, one of our number had a minor meltdown about only having fleece to wear as an evening cover-up (she is a suburban mom with three kids — what else is she supposed to have for casual eveningwear?).  She was planning to go to the local mall and feared that she would find nothing to wear to the reunion but come home with a new pair of khaki shorts and yet another fleece. 

Others of us are taking stock of the pounds gained and lost or of how our quarter century-old pounds are migrating toward our hips and tummies.  And in our own particular (and in my case, peculiar) ways, we are taking stock of the lives we have lived in advance of revisiting the place that gave birth to many of our dreams.  Life interfered with those dreams in wonderful, sad, humorous and sometimes mediocre ways.

As we are all giving into some vanities (I am working out my arms so that I look toned), and then:

One friend emailed, “I don’t want to brag but I can still wear the same earrings I wore in high school!”  

Thank G-d for friends who keep it real and help you keep your head on straight.

So, in response to Messrs. Talking Heads:

Yes, POB (partner of blogger) is my beautiful wife and we live in our home.  I got here by taming my demons and working hard and earning the love of POB.  And together we created a son (ok, with a little help) and a family. Yes, I am here and this is what I have done.  Unfortunately, the days go by too fast. And I still lose sleep at night over bills and the general state of the economy.

Now, that I have had that Frank Capra “It’s a Wonderful Life” moment, I am still going to work out every day until the reunion, and I spent a small fortune on skin moisturizers and wrinkle removal goop.   Capra would totally get this — even Jimmy Stewart’s character in that movie was perfectly coiffed while contemplating suicide.

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