Turning 70 and More

As we approach the holidays, more and more catalogs appear in my mailbox. There is everything from “Hearth & Home” to “Wind and Weather.” There are “Whatever Works,” “The Feel Good Store” (I’ll have what they’re having) and one I had never seen before, “Spilsbury,” where I could order a set of Donald Trump playing cards, “beard baubles” to decorate a man’s beard and “Weener Cleaner Soap,” which is just what you think it might be and is advertised as “one size fits most men.” And don’t forget to buy your Jesus soap to “cleanse your soul as well as your hands.” How on earth did I get on THIS mailing list?

Nine months into the corona crisis and I am still rationing squares of toilet paper.

I turned 70 at the end of October! Shocking, isn’t it? In junior high, there was a teacher who looked like she was in her 80s – at least to students who were 12 and 13. One day she mentioned something about her mother, who was still alive. I remember being stunned that she could have a living mother, who, I deduced, must have been 100 years old. Now I am 70, which is probably much older than this teacher was at the time I thought she was ancient.

When I watch “The Golden Girls” I realize that all of them except Sophia were younger then than I am now.

People say 70 is the new 60. I say: Small consolation. Like 60 wasn't old? However, I still seem young – except that I can pull a muscle just by turning over in bed. I don’t remember my mother running around wearing sweatshirts and baseball caps. Had they invented sweatshirts by the time she was 70?  

All I know is that being in my 20s in the 70s was more fun than being 70 in the 20s. For one, there was no pandemic limiting my ability to mark this special occasion with the proper level of partying.

Being 70 has not made me any less cranky about things. I am becoming more like Andy Rooney every day. And you have to be of a certain age to even get that reference.

For those of you who sent me birthday cards with glitter, don’t think I didn’t notice!

I get a lot of requests from people who ask to “pick my brain.” I’m afraid you are too late. My brain is pretty picked over by now.

Is it still against the law to remove those tags from the couch cushions and pillows? I really would not want to go to jail for that. Who exactly enforces that law? Just wondering.

I can only hope I outlive my magazines. I hate to throw out the 2017 Thanksgiving issue of Better Homes & Gardens and some recipe for dinner for 12 that I’ll never make!

There are definitely advantages to virtual meetings, such as no traffic, no leaving late at night for a long drive home and no clean-up of the meeting munchies when the meeting ends. Instead, you hit the “Leave Meeting” button and you are DONE! Of course, you still have to clean up after yourself if you have had any refreshments during or prior to the meeting.

I was so close to reaching the $400 total I need for a free turkey at ShopRite. My last shopping trip left me just 98 cents short. I should have bought a few extra oranges to put me over the top! But don’t worry, because by the time you read this, I will have smashed through that $400 barrier on my way to a free Butterball Turkey breast!

Why do we have to log into a portal for everything? Why can’t I just call the doctor’s office for an appointment? Why can’t the lab just mail me the blood work results? Accessing a portal is one more sign-on and password to remember, and who needs even one more? And no, I am NOT going to download your app onto my phone so once a year I can access my health records. That’s a hard NO.

I admire people who wear clothes well. They can slip into something absolutely ordinary and make it look like they are going to a fancy event. I have seen actress Sharon Stone show up at an awards ceremony in black pants and a starched white blouse and look like a million bucks. I, on the other hand, put on something new and it looks like I have worn it a thousand times. I could wear a ball gown and look like I am going to wash the car!

I record so many programs on my DVR, many of which record automatically whenever they happen to come on again, like “The Amazing Race” and “Survivor,” that I will notice the little red recording light on and wonder, “What am I recording now?” 

Dunkin Donut bagels are neither bagels nor rolls. Please discuss.

I just unsubscribed from one of the myriad places that send me unwanted email and I received a message saying, “We’ll miss you.” The feeling is NOT mutual.

I got a text message recently that promised me I could lose something like 60 pounds in 6 weeks. Yikes! Another message said I could go "from XXXL to a size S" in something like 10 minutes. I want to know who is monitoring my shopping cart or my closet and sending me these crazy messages.

I belong to a Facebook group for people who use Amazon’s Alexa. It is an amazing device that I use for everything from checking the weather to maintaining a shopping list. I just yell from the kitchen, “Alexa, add beef broth to my shopping list,” and, sure enough, it is right there when I check it 3 days later in the store. But some people are just too dependent on the technology. People on Facebook use it as an alarm clock and to turn on their lights, sure, but that’s just not enough for some people. They want complicated “routines” to do everything from boil the water for spaghetti to serve it in the bowl. You know, folks, we were all able to turn on our own lights and drain the pasta all by ourselves once. Let’s not lose those practical skills.

I asked Alexa to bring in the groceries when I got home from ShopRite and she didn’t even budge or comment on my request/order. #insubordination

I am so sick of kitchen duty. Whether I make it or have take-out, there’s always so much clean-up. It would be easier to go on a hunger strike!

I shook enough crumbs out of my toaster to stuff a small Thanksgiving turkey. Then I had to vacuum the floor to capture the crumbs that got away. Every time I toasted an English muffin, it smelled like the house was burning down. Those are some stubborn crumbs!

I know I have gotten really lazy around the house, but when I ate my toast plain with just margarine and without actually taking time to toast it, I think I hit a new low.

There’s nothing worse than chomping on a hard-boiled egg and getting a piece of shell. Yuck. (OK, there are worse things, but you get my drift.)

How am I supposed to thoroughly wash my sharpest knives without having them slice my sponge? Conundrum. 

I sure hope someone is telling the next generation that you use a fork to split English muffins. Never use a knife. It is all about the nooks and crannies!

I think I may be overusing exclamation points these days. Stop me when I start using two at the end of a sentence. Please!!

I am in such a quandary about spacing between sentences. I was taught to use two spaces, but now that we communicate largely online and don’t use actual lead type between sentences, the current standard seems to be just one space. I am an old dog, and it is hard to teach me new tricks. But now using two spaces between sentences is starting to look too spacey to me, so maybe I am coming around after all.

Here is a sure sign of the change of seasons and impending winter: Despite being 70+ degrees, my neighbors just covered their patio furniture. I wonder if all of the Ritas are closed yet.

I will have to get through a year without being able to watch my beloved Rutgers Women’s Basketball team from the cozy confines of the Rutgers Athletic Center (the RAC). No chance to sit on the sidelines cheering, no high fives or chanting “RU, Rah, Rah” at a timeout, no band playing the fight song, no rooting for the rookies and appreciating the returning players, no sideline salutes to legendary Coach C. Vivian Stringer. And I don’t know how the refs will survive without the fans providing loud vocal help in pointing out fouls they should have called (we REALLY like to help them!). It will be a year like no other, when we watch from home and remember to never again take for granted something we love.  

Rudy Giuliani’s press conference to announce the Republicans’ intention to file lawsuits regarding the election results was held not at the fancy, schmancy Four Seasons Hotel in Philadelphia but inadvertently booked at Four Seasons Total Landscaping, located in an industrial area adjacent to an adult bookstore/peep show and a crematorium. If it is a landscape company, surely they stock fertilizer. This is more irony than one could conjure up for a Saturday Night Live sketch, except that it actually happened. 

Please – for the sake of your health and that of your loved ones – don’t gather in groups, wear a mask, wash your hands and hunker down for a tough stretch as this virus continues to spread and kill thousands of people. Hopefully, the new year will bring us all new solutions to this scourge.