Is There Sex After 60? (Navigating Single Life After 60)

At 5’2 ¼” I have got to say, I do not tower over most people.  Well, I actually don’t tower over anyone.  There isn’t much to like about being short.  I don’t sit on those tall chairs in bars or at counters because my feet don’t touch the bar where you are supposed to rest your feet.  My feet hang down all night long and I am uncomfortable. The tall chairs are too high for me to climb up on now that I am over 65.  At least it is hard to do it gracefully.  Years ago I had a boyfriend who would lift me up onto the tall chairs. This can look cute in your 20’s but not in your 60’s.  I can’t think of a man I know who could lift me onto a tall chair these days.  All the men I know are over 60, too.  God knows, I am not the little, skinny, girl I was at 28 either…. therefore, I just stay away from tall chairs. The other problem with being short is that most restaurants that have booths aren’t a good fit for me.  When I sit at a booth the tabletop often comes up to my neck. This makes it hard to cut my steak if and when I have the inclination to order a steak.  My arms and elbows stick up in the air.  I end up looking ridiculous.  The first minute or two when arriving at a new restaurant I scout out my surroundings and ask the host or hostess to please find me a table with chairs that are a normal distance from the ground.  After I am comfortably seated I am able to relax enough to order my dirty martini with three olives.

We, short people have new issues to address. I have noticed that young people keep getting taller and taller with each new generation.  Obviously architects have noticed this change in the new generation’s height as well. Each new kitchen I move into has cabinets that are way too high for me to reach anything beyond the first shelve.  When I moved into my present apartment I had a housekeeper help me to arrange most of the items that I need everyday on the first shelves above the counters.  The other items were placed on the second shelves and the items I only use at Thanksgiving or Christmas were placed on the higher shelves.  Then there is the problem of the towel racks in the bathroom. When did people decide to place a towel rack so high up next to the sink that one must stand up on one’s toes to dry one’s face?  To combat most of these issues I have bought small stepladders to accommodate my short stature.  This has also become an issue, as I have mentioned before in many past posts on my blog. I am very clumsy.  I don’t take notice of my surroundings, and well, in the last 5 months, I have fallen twice.  The first time I broke my nose and the last time I broke a toe and bruised my knees.  I try not to use the stepladders if I can avoid them.

There is good news however, my oldest son moved in with me after my first fall.  This didn’t happen because of my fall but due to the fact that the house he was renting with his father was sold.  My son moved in with the dog and the two cats.  Once again my life, tout seul, came to an end.  There are good and bad things about this happening. One, my son helps with everything. He takes the dog for walks and cleans the cat litter.   Two, he does a lot of the grocery shopping and most of the cooking.  Now if I need a bowl on the top shelf I call out to him and voila, I have the bowl that I needed from the top shelf.   I love see the animals waking and sleeping, wagging their tails.  When I walk into the apartment they are happy to see me but it has taken a heavy toll on my lovely new furniture.  The furniture no longer looks new.  It now looks like I need a whole new apartment filled with new furniture.  I have learned a lesson… you shouldn’t have three animals in a 1,300 sq. ft. apartment.   But I regress… we are talking about my small stature.

The one good thing about being short is the fact that there aren’t a lot of men who are my height or shorter.  Every new man I meet is usually taller than me.  I really don’t like to wear shoes with heels higher than two inches so, really, everyone is taller than me. I don’t have anything against short men.  I was madly in love with Dick Cavett when I was in college.  Even Dick is able to look down on me at his 5’6” height.  Let’s face it I like almost all men of any height.  I like intelligent, clever, men and thoughtful, kind, generous, men. That is what matters to me.  Once more, I regress …. I’m talking about height.

Now, here, is the very interesting thing about my short height.  NO ONE THINKS THAT I AM SHORT.  It’s true. If you ask anyone who knows me how tall I am they would probably answer 5’ 5” or taller.   I have an image of myself as being a tall person and it must have worked. The only time people notice that I am short is when we are walking down the street together. Then, usually, my friends will be walking very fast, with their much longer legs, and I am usually running beside them trying to keep up with them.  At this point, they usually look down at me and remark that they never noticed that I am so short.  I see myself as a tall, statuesque, woman, of some influence.  Don’t laugh.  I have seen this in my mind’s eye for so long that it might be coming true.

This post has the title, “Short and Sweet.”  Not so sure about the “Sweet”, part.    I guess you will have to make that judgment for yourselves. Maybe you have to know me for a while.  I do have my moments of sweetness, if you catch me on a good day.  Just ask my pets… but try not to scratch the furniture.

Until Next Week….