I call a
friend on her birthday the other day.
She’s 61. “Lyn, we are old. If we were described in the paper, they would
describe us as elderly.”
A man disappears
in New York and he’s 61. I subscribe to
a New York City email notification system that tells me about street closings,
emergency detours, subway changes, and apparently missing people. Notification of a 61-year-old missing person
comes as a Silver Alert.
I have something
in my left eye. I thought I was seeing a
snarl in my hair until I realized that my hair was nowhere near my eyes. I go to my ophthalmologist whom I haven’t
seen in two years. My eyes are healthy
and yes, I do have a small floater. He
tells me not to worry, over time my brain will adjust to it and it’s likely
that it will be “pushed down” and I won’t see it anymore. “What causes floaters?” I ask. “They're mostly related to age,” I’m told, “ and
about 70% of people will, at some point in their lives, have them.” Now I’m one of them.
So, feeling old and blind (my pupils are dilated
and I can’t see), I leave the doctor’s and stop by Bloomingdales, which is
nearby. It is the first day of their final
winter sale-an additional 50% off. I can’t resist. The prices are ridiculous…over 90% off. I end up getting a gorgeous, form-fitting black
jersey dress by Donna Karan, marked down from $1,995 to $179.55.
As I am
debating if yet another dress may be too tight, a customer passing by says,
“You have an amazing body.” Still not sure, I ask a foreign man in his late 60’s or so, and he offers his opinion of the dress: “You
look sex,” he says. I think he means
sexy, but I'll take either.
My eyes may
be old, newspapers may refer to me as elderly, the city may describe me as a
“silver” person, but at least somewhere I feel young again. Another good reason to stay thin.
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