The term “Anti-aging” is tantamount to a slur. It reinforces negative perceptions and makes millions for companies that shill everything from face cream to stem cells. You never hear “pro-life” associated with the aging process. It is a subtle form of discrimination and women buy into it. Why relegate yourself to the status of a container of yogurt with a “use by date” emblazoned across your chest?
Refuse to participate in the “anti-aging” myth and accept the fact that in many instances you are going find yourself residing out of the land of the mainstream. Through no fault of your own other than tenure, you suddenly become a target for diminished expectations.
Re-allocate your resources both monetary and personal. Refuse to waste money on plastic surgery. Don’t waste YOU on anyone who attempts to marginalize.
Take advantage of the new status and age outrageously. Let your freak flag fly.
Let the wrinkles and arm fat flap. Wear tacky shoes. Wear elastic waist Capri pants. They may look like ship sails, but what do you care.
Go to the early bird dinner and ask what time the bar opens.
If it’s raining and you absolutely have to go to the mall, park in a handicap spot and limp as you drag one foot behind you. If you look ratty, most likely no one will stop you.
Reinvent history. If you have been the soul of propriety, create a different background for yourself. If you have not engaged in salacious affairs, invent some. (You might want to let your spouse in on the subterfuge lest you spend your twilight years sleeping single.) What do you care about propriety? Your in-laws always suspected there was something a bit “off” about you. At least you will have done one good deed in your lifetime and confirmed their long held beliefs.
When the sales person in Macy’s lingerie department automatically directs you to the granny panties, ask if they carry a thong in a plus size. Let ’em figure out a politically correct response to that.
When the pharmacy tech calls you “hon”, ask if female Viagra is available yet. Responses should provide entertainment to those waiting in line. No one respects the privacy boundary and everyone eavesdrops. I guarantee you will never be addressed as “hon” or “sweetie” again.
If some nut at the gym doesn’t want to share a lane in the pool, (it’s always a man) move his lap markers to indicate he’s finished because he IS.
Anti-aging is anti life.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.