I grew up in the suburbs, middle class, the child of a banker father and a SAHM [stay at home mom]. We went to church and Sunday school every week. We went to the beach every summer.
I didn't know until I grew up that we were very square.
Most everyone I knew had a daddy who worked and a mom who stayed home. I only knew one family during my childhood where the parents got divorced. I sort of envied the daughter, who was my best friend. Her dad took her out to dinner and did fun things with her. She got his undivided attention more than I got that from my dad, who was a workaholic.
I think that was the first non-square thought I ever had, jealousy of my friend whose parents were divorced.
The older I got, the more odd/weird/original thoughts popped into my head.
My cousin sent me a link to some film footage shot by her dad at a family reunion weekend in 1970, when I was 8 years old. I am all over the place -- dancing around, turning cartwheels, yelling out questions at the adults every two minutes. I always think of myself as a child as that kid in the corner with the book, quiet as a mouse, eavesdropping on the grownups. I was that bookworm, sometimes. I was also a hot mess.
I asked my mom about that the other day and she smiled. "You were a handful, just like your brother," was her reply. "You were always busy. Music, cooking, writing -- you were talented in so many areas."
What made me think of this, you're wondering?
I was reading about an online magazine and how to pitch articles for them. I read a couple of their published articles. I realized that I am probably too old to write for them. There was a photo of all their editorial staff standing around outside, looking hip. Nobody had gray hair.
So is the AARP magazine the only one I should aim for?! Dang.
So here's the thing. I don't feel all that different from that cartwheeling 8 year old in the home movies. I don't do cartwheels any more because.... well, I'm too old and fat. Just keeping it real, here. I would love to, though.
I still feel passionately about things, however.
It seems like this decade of my life has been about being invisible. The ages from 50-60 are weird. We are not young, for sure. That's okay. We are not really old either. Feels wrong to say we're "middle aged" -- that's only true for those of us who live past 100. I doubt that will be me.
So we're in a no-man's land, neither young, old, or middle-aged.
We are not young and hip.
We are also not old and hip, like Betty White, or Ron Wood, or Dolly Parton.
I'm kind of jealous of my friends who have grandchildren. Then again, I hate changing diapers.
I'm a bit jealous of my friends who are able to travel. I am pretty much stuck here, for the moment. Then again, I just bought a new 50 inch smart TV, and I can watch Travel Channel and feel like I've been on vacation without ever having to hire a housesitter or pack Immodium.
I have a cousin who will retire soon, after working at the same library for more than 40 years. I sort of envy her, and I'm sort of worried about her. I hope she doesn't decide to just go off and live in Costa Rica, far from the rest of the family, but then again, maybe she should?
Retirement must be scary, especially for us spinsters. I doubt I will ever be able to retire. Maybe a career as a Walmart greeter will yield enough material for a book of pseudo-hip short stories..
I keep thinking, I've learned a lot about life in recent years. Maybe I should write about that. When I was a twenty-something or thirty-something I wouldn't have read such a book, though. I remember dating a much older man once, in his early 50's and thinking he's like, stuck in a time warp. Not young, and not quite grandpa in the nursing home.
Remember the old Huey Lewis song, "It's Hip to Be Square"? I hope Huey was right. I've got the square part down. I'm just waiting for the hipness...
