I’m going to borrow a phrase from comedian John Heffron, who described being in your 50s as being “the youngest of the old people.” He is 100 percent correct. My parents were in their 50s when I was in my 20s thinking I was already a grown up. Now that I am — essentially — them (except without the emotional distance or narcissism), I feel like people in their 20s simply don’t appreciate that they are little more than recycled teenagers. They don’t appreciate being able to stay out late, buy their own toys, and subscribe to the deluxe cable TV package while still enjoying physical activity with ligaments that stay in place.
Personally, that starts with everyone in the house waking to the rifle cracks of my toes and knees when I am trying to tiptoe around in the dark.
John says people in their 50s are the “freshmen” of the old people set, and I would agree with him. I still often felt like I wanted my mommy until I turned 30, and I was in my 40s before I finally felt like I was in the senior class of young people.
Now that I’m a noob again, it would have been nice to have had some 60s sophomore mentors provide me with appropriate warnings for this new life stage. For instance, the freshman-15 is back again, only this time it’s not something I can blame on awesome weekend party activities. Without changing, literally, anything about my lifestyle, I packed on the pounds courtesy of my hormones and lazy thyroid. So where was the Be sure to eat 45 percent less food space on my “Surviving Middle Age” bingo card?
If, like me, you’re new to the club, you can stop worrying about going to pop music concerts because you’re going to hate pretty much everything you hear on the radio from now on. It starts to creep up on you when you’re in your 30s and 40s — I’m pretty sure I haven’t downloaded anything new since Bruno Mars sang at the Super Bowl. If you think I’m wrong, consider Britney Spears is 42 and Toni Basil is 81… now try to name any of the last 10 hosts or musical guests on “Saturday Night Live.” I can’t, but that’s mostly because I go to bed at 10.
Another tip: It’s important to purchase a shredder as a new old person because once you show up for orientation, you will start receiving daily postcards and applications from AARP and people trying to sell you walk-in tubs and Medicare plans. Seriously, there is an entire industry making money off of trying to help you figure out how to keep and/or avoid all the “perks” real seniors get.
On the plus side, you go to movies in the daytime and pay matinee prices. Plus there is almost no one younger and noisier at the theater. However, you will be required to download the IMDB app so you don’t aggravate your children with, “Oh, I like him! Wasn’t he in that show with the other girl with the hair and the pretty eyes? Aren’t any of the actors I still know making movies any more? Is Clint Eastwood still alive?”
On the plus side, you can now leave parties at 9pm and no one calls you a wuss for not staying for just one more…anything. Most of the time you just get that patronizing, smiling head-tilt and a cloying, “Yeah, well, we’re just so glad you could make it out of the house tonight.”
You get to enjoy memberships at stores and clubs you used to walk by and think, How are they still in business? These include shops that provide items and supplies to feed wild animals in your backyard or crocheting and quilting, and can-your-own-food learning annexes.
You also might want to start practicing the speech you will inevitably have to give your parents about assisted living, taking their car keys away, and/or why they should have stopped watching CNN in 2015.
Fortunately, my son is in high school now so I have someone to keep up with my technology and I won’t have to feel like I’m running a marathon in flip-flops as I graduate to my 60s and 70s. In the 1980s that race was me telling my mother how to use the microwave. Tomorrow it will be me asking my son how to reboot my refrigerator because I am locked out of the grocery app and can’t remember what I wanted to eat.