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

Author Archives: istheresexaftersixty

• *Note to my Followers!

  Posted at 11:08 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on January 18, 2020

  Hi Followers,

  I am starting to organize my blog for the future.  I would like to categorize my posts to make it easier to find a post that might interest you.  I am also going to add some new pages that I am not going to publish here.  I hope to make my blog into a book someday in the near future.  I will keep you informed.

  The last post I published with the title, “Terra Firma” was posted about a year ago.  While searching through my past published posts it looks as if 6 of my posts were deleted.  I will be posting these again in the next week, however, I will let you know that these posts were published in the past and somehow deleted.

  Thank you for following my blog.  Please note, that I am happy to read your comments, ideas, suggestions as well as your own stories about your lives.

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• Terra Firma

  Posted at 12:29 am by istheresexaftersixty, on January 18, 2020

   

  In the dictionary, Terra Firma means dry land however, in Latin it means, solid land. 

   In the last week, I had a birthday. I often get a bit nostalgic and well, even more than nostalgic, actually I often feel quite sad lately, for a few days before and after my birthday. Did you ever read or see the play “Our Town” by Thornton Wilder? There is a section of the play where the main character dies.  She is allowed to go back in time to relive one day in her past.  She chooses one of her birthdays.  She sees her mother and father and her friends and relatives talking among themselves and talking about their planned celebration.  Her ghost watches the action that is all in the past. At first, she is thrilled to see and hear the family and friends.  She is fascinated with how young her parents looked at the time.  Soon it becomes too emotional for her and she cries out, for the action to stop.  Looking back can be too sad and too emotional for me and really, maybe, for all of us. 

   I try not to go back in time and I do a pretty good job of it, most of the time.  I try to concentrate on the present and the future. Even when I look back at the past I am usually able to separate the past and my emotions regarding the past, however, for some reason that cool exterior breaks down much like a cookie that crumbles, around my birthday each year.   You see my mother used to make a big deal about our birthdays.  Once, many years ago I heard the writer Calvin Trillion on television and he was talking about his wife’s birthday.  Mr. Trillion said that his wife doesn’t have a birthday. He said that she has a “birth- week”. She celebrates her birthday for an entire week.  Well, that is what I used to have when I was a child.  My mother would have a family birthday, with just my mother and father and sisters.  I would get to choose my favorite dinner and my favorite cake that my mother would make for me.  I got presents from my mom and dad and sisters.  Then we would have an extended family birthday party with my grandparents and aunts and uncles.  More dinner, more cake, and more presents … then last but certainly not least I would have my birthday party with my friends from school.  My father, who was well known in the cake business, would decorate my cake and there was more cake and lunch and presents.  We had great parties!   Now everyone is gone.  My grandparents and all of the aunts and uncles from the Chicago area, and my parents and my youngest sister and some of my friends are gone.  So now it is a bit of a challenge to get through each birthday, but I do, and I am grateful that I am still here, alive and well. 

  Lately, I guess due to my “birth- week”, this week somehow makes me reevaluate my past.   I consider what is happening in my present situation and lastly I try to imagine a possible future.  I noticed one very interesting fact.  Recently, I heard a man on television mention how happy he was to be back on terra firma… after a flood in his city. I thought how my terra is, and never has been, very firma, so to speak.  I started counting (no, not calories) but homes and apartments and or condos that I have lived in from 1 year old to my 67 years on earth.  I have moved 24 times.  Chicago 7 moves, (I am also going to count college) 2 different rooms in my college in Iowa, 2 apartments in London and 2 apartments in Paris, 2 places in Europe (when I was first married), 8 homes and apartments in Colorado and 1 home in Arizona.  That makes 24 and counting… 

   So looking back in time, at my life, as a Pisces, born in March, the water sign, of two slippery fish swimming in opposite directions; I can say, with conviction, that I am a very good swimmer.  I can swim, float, I can swim strong and steadily avoiding sharks and danger zones, most of the time.  I have had to tread water, keeping my head above water sometimes for years at a time. I did learn how to dive but I still prefer to jump in, holding my nose, with eyes closed.  Now there have been times when I have had to manage my family and my life on terra (land) and sometimes I have had to avoid avalanches blocking the road and unexpected rock slides, often with one child under each arm pulling a dog and two cats behind me.  The terra is definitely a challenge, moving, moving, moving, on to the future, leaving some things and some people behind.  The secret is to keep going, jumping over the potholes, avoiding earthquakes, skirting around possible erupting volcanoes.  

  Was there help out there in the past and in the present?   Golly, yes. Life preservers, floatation devises, canoes, on the water and on land scooters, wagons, roller-skates, motorbikes… all types of transportation that help you glide past lots of problems and pitfalls.  You might ask who (or is it whom?) provides a great deal of this life-saving emergency equipment?   It is, close family members, that help carry the heavy load, and the rest is the helping hands from friends and sometimes even from total strangers.  

  There are lots of people who have lived 90% of their lives on terra firma.  I have known some.  I have seen their photos.  I have the greatest respect for people and families that have managed strong lives on very strong stable terra firma.  It would be nice.  There is always the possibility that sometime in the future I might move to that elusive spot somewhere on this planet earth.  Until that time, and on this particular birth-week I would like to thank all of the people who have helped my family and me through the years with that life saving helping hand.  I hope you all know who you are, in the here and now as well as in the far and distant past. I’m still here, thanks again. BTW I had my favorite lemon cake and Champagne on my birthday.   It was a nice birthday after all. 

  Until Next Week… 

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• What Is A Preposition & How Do I Find One?

  Posted at 1:55 am by istheresexaftersixty, on January 17, 2020

  Now I am going to admit something and this is going to make me sound very, stupid for many reasons, which I will list without further ado.  1. I graduated from a college in Europe with a double major, in World History and ENGLISH LITERATURE.  2. I have two college degrees and the second one was in COMMUNICATIONS.  3. I had pretty good grades in English. 4. I am an avid reader and I have read hundreds of books.  I am not sure how many books that I have read in my life except to say that for many years I read 3 to 4 books (or more?) a week, until the birth of my first son when my constant love of reading took a big hit.  5. I was one of the very few kids on earth who loved to diagram sentences.  6. I am over 60 but, so far, I think my brain is still functioning, hopefully, about on the same level for the last few years.  I am not saying that my mind isn’t going to turn to mush in the next year or two but so far so good.

   This is my embarrassing statement.  A few days ago I couldn’t remember the definition of a preposition and then when I read the definition it really didn’t make any sense to me.  I knew the general meaning and many words that are used as prepositions such as “inside, up, besides, below, above, across.” I had to look up the definition to explain it to another person.  Here is the definition that Siri recited to me when I asked her the definition of a Preposition. (my phone tells me almost everything that I need to know on a need to know basis.)

  This is according to Siri,

  [A word governing and usually preceding, a noun or pronoun and expressing a relation to another word or element in the clause, as in “the man on the platform,” “she arrived after dinner”] 

  What a preposition does is explain the relationship between two things like a noun and a verb.  It connects the noun with the verb.  It shows us how two things are related.  It hooks things together.  Now, the whole preposition thing gets very confusing unless you are shown some examples.  Sometimes a word can be a preposition and sometimes it’s not a preposition such as, “The dog ran down the street.” and, “Put that dog down!”  Confusing right?  I had a lot of explaining to do and I had a lot of reading to do to be able to explain the in’s and out’s of the confusing, preposition.

  Of course, if you know me or if you have been reading my blog lately you might realize that this all had more of a meaning to me than just proper English and proper grammar.  Now, what some of us need is a preposition for our lives to explain the relations we have to our lives and to our friends and to our past and to our future.  How does it connect?

  What I need is a Preposition working for me in my life. I am going to call him Bill.  So, Bill, show me how to connect with that verb. How I’m going to pay Bill and is anyone guess?  I am not in a position to throw money around lately, especially to a Preposition.

  Bill, explain to me what my connection is to my, “Was-band” How exactly did he end up (after separating 17 years ago) sleeping on the couch in my living room?  Explain that connection to me, Bill.  I know, I know, he is the father of my two sons and he is still my “Was-band” and I am still way, too nice to everyone.   Got it.

   While you are at it Bill, show me how I am going to connect to the next phase of my life heading into my 70’s.  Yes, I’ll be in my 70’s in just two years, six weeks and five days.  So Bill, how am I going to “hook up” to a new job at 67 going on 68 that will pay for myself, two other people and three pets?  Better yet, Bill, tell me how am I going to connect or hook up with any human when I am this old and working and worrying and not sleeping enough and my “Was-band” is sleeping on my couch?

  It is interesting that actually there are a lot of women over 60 in this same position, Bill.  It might be that we spent so much time thinking of everyone else and doing for everyone else and keeping everyone else alive, that we never noticed that time was going past us very fast.  We never stopped long enough, to imagine where we were going to end up, in our 60’s.

  Well, Bill, the good news is, that I am a pretty strong person and I am still working and still trying to keep it all together and I am not giving up just yet.  I still like writing my blog and I am still considering looking for that Preposition that shows how that noun connects to the verb.  If you know one and he is interested, I am relatively available.  Please give him my number.  I have heard that Prepositions are good at combining with a noun or a pronoun.  They aren’t flashy and they can make a mean Prepositional phrase.   At least, that’s what Siri told me. 

  Until Next Week…

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• 2020, Are You Kidding Me?

  Posted at 2:00 am by istheresexaftersixty, on January 3, 2020

  Don’t ask me why I decided to get the Obituary Notices from the Aspen News in my email but I guess when I did that I must have had a good reason.  Now, this is how you know you are really getting old, I actually read them.  Why? I’m not sure.  I suppose originally maybe I wanted to see if anyone I knew in the past, had passed!  Frankly, I only vaguely remember signing up to receive the “want ads” so, maybe I signed up for the obituary notices at the same time?  I might have done this to see if any of my old bosses from a previous job might have kicked the bucket.  In 2009 I was downsized to one day a week working for a group of horrible, terrible, no good, slimy creeps.  When hearing my new, one day a week, schedule, I QUIT!   In an almost four year period, I had worked for five or more terrible general managers and several horrible men and one or two horrible women for a semi-combined home management /real estate company.   I was called a floater and I had to learn how to run four different offices in and around Aspen, Colorado. For about six or seven months during this period, I worked in one of the company’s offices in a town next to Aspen with a group of perhaps the coldest, meanest, most offensive, men that I have ever had the unfortunate luck to be introduced to.  I worked at a desk directly across the room and faced the bosses’ assistant.  After this woman passes through this life to the other side, it is my humble belief and I am pretty sure that I am right about this belief, that the Devil has made his pitch for her to be placed in a desk directly in front of the gates of HELL, as his assistant.  I am sure she will do a fine job.  Most of the men from the real estate division will be on the inside of the fiery gates, on their phones trying to make millions of dollars selling the homes of millionaires’ and billionaires’ mansions.  They will carry on in Hell with their present careers.  If I die and I spot any of these people I will be unhappily aware that I haven’t made it to the “Pearly Gates”.  My wish for this life is that I will never have to see or speak to any of these people again and when or if I do have to gaze once more on any of their faces it will be from the Obituary Notices in the Aspen Newspaper.

  Well, now to get to my main point.  Today I read two obituaries of two men.  Both of these men were very good looking and had what read like two very busy, interesting lives.  They were both liked and loved by many people and both had left loved ones behind.  It looked very much like these men were very good men.  Lots of people knew them and loved them.  They will be missed.  One man was three years younger and one man was twelve years younger than my 67 years.  They both passed away in the last few days.  It looks like their deaths were anticipated.  I, therefore, made the conclusion that they each had been ill for a long time.

  If you haven’t noticed by now we all have moved into a new decade.  What happened to the year 2000 and where have I been and what have I been doing for the last twenty years???  I don’t know about you but it now seems as if we are all traveling at lightning speed on a bullet train to the future.  Holy Cow!  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  IT IS ALREADY 2020!!  I’m afraid to blink or it might just be 2030 or 2040 when I open my eyes.  Twenty years ago I was still kind of cute.  Men in their 30’s thought I was their age and they still flirted with me.  I still had young boys to raise and my husband and I still slept together.  Whoosh!!!! Gone, it’s all gone.  My boys are men.  My husband is now my husband, that was, or as I call him, my “Was-band”.  I’m not sure I would know what to call myself now?  Would I be a “Was-ife?”

  Hitting 2020 has hit me a bit like running my car into a brick wall.   Actually, January 2, 2019, a truck ran head-on into me.  Somehow this event should have prepared me for the year ahead but it didn’t. For the last 37 years, I have been worrying.  I have had very good reasons for worrying.  I had really high hopes for my 60’s.  Surprise!  Life keeps on going and problems keep coming and unexpected issues keep happening.

  Hey, I have tons of friends from my past who are calm and happy and comfortable and sitting back and enjoying their lives and their marriages and their retirement and their grandchildren while I am still worrying and wondering how in the heck I am going to keep going.  Life and years are flying by while I worry about paying rent.  Then, this morning I read the Aspen Obituaries.  Two good men are gone.   One man was 64 and one man was 55 years old.

  I am facing and have faced big problems since the year 2000 came and went.  Somehow, I am still here and my children are alive and well and my pets are happy and still wrecking my furniture and the Oriental rugs.   My “Was-band” is still his usual pain in the (well you know what) I am still worrying about bills but I get to get up tomorrow morning and I get to see the sunrise again and I get to have a nice cup of coffee with cream and I get to text my youngest son and I get to ask my oldest son what terrible thing is happening on the news.   Tomorrow morning I just might call my old friend in Texas that I have known for over 50 years.  Tonight I am going to have a bowl of stew for dinner and a large glass of wine.

  Time is speeding by faster than ever.  I’m still glad to be able to see 2020 arrive and with any luck hopefully, we will be able to see 2021, and 2022, and on into the future.  Worries or no worries, I guess it is all still worth it.  HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!

  Until Next Week…

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• A Disjointed Discussion of Christmas

  Posted at 1:36 am by istheresexaftersixty, on December 20, 2019

  Have you seen the commercial where the young handsome husband gives his beautiful, young, very skinny, very healthy looking wife a $2,000 stationary bike for Christmas?   She is thrilled to get into better shape for her beloved husband and child so that she is able to survive for many more Christmases and to keep looking attractive and slim for him as she inevitably ages.  I think this wife might want to visit her husband’s office to see exactly what his new secretary looks like.  How much do you want to bet that the secretary is working out after 6 PM at the office gym on a stationary bike?  I think that is where the husband got the idea of buying his wife a stationary bike for Christmas.  Just saying…  Personally, I am not sure that marriage is going to last through the ages but you never know, do you?  A car, a vacation, or a nice piece of jewelry sounds like a better idea to me.  Imagine a wife buying her husband an electric shaver when he has had a beard for many years.  Are you hinting at something?

  In my 20’s I had been dating a man for more than two years.  We were in a serious committed relationship.   What did he give me for Christmas?  He bought me one brass candle holder that needed to be attached to the wall.  I was dumbfounded.  Even if he had bought two, well at least I could have put one brass candle holder on either side of the couch with some paintings in-between, but just one brass wall mounted candle holder? Why?

    We had known each other intimately for over two years and that is what he decided to buy me out of everything in the world that he could have bought me for Christmas?   Now if my friend or relative had overheard me talking about a brass candle holder that I had always wanted, then, I would have been thrilled to get this as a gift.   Needless to say, I had never mentioned that to anyone.  This relationship didn’t last.

  My younger sister had been dating her boyfriend since high school and they were a happy loving couple.  They had both graduated from college and they both had good jobs.  They were very much a couple and serious about each other.  My sister was very excited about the start of the Christmas season that year as she totally expected to get an engagement ring and a proposal on Christmas day.  The big day at last arrived and she could hardly wait for her boyfriend of seven years to arrive at the door. (I am sure you have guessed by now.)  She opened her package.  It was a medium-sized black purse.  She frantically searched through the purse looking for the small black box that would be holding her engagement ring.  There wasn’t a ring in the purse… the purse was a purse and it wasn’t leather.  That was the end of that relationship.  A year and a half later she married a wonderful, handsome man who gave her an engagement ring for Christmas.

  It isn’t the price of the gift that makes a gift important it is the thought that there is some feeling behind the gift that makes it important.  All people really want for Christmas is to know that they are important to you.  It is just knowing that you care about them and what you think about them and that you listen to their likes and dislikes.  That is what makes a gift important.

  There is something that I have to admit to you about this season.    Christmas makes me cry. Yep, I cry at everything.  Old movies that I have seen maybe 200 times still make me sob.  I mean when Jimmy Stewart’s brother holds up his glass and makes a toast to Jimmy, “To my brother, the richest man in town.”  Donna Reed is hugging him and he is holding Susie, his daughter, and his son is playing the piano and all of the friends and neighbors who he has helped throughout his life donated money to help him out are smiling and singing and they all toast him together, “To the richest man in town!”    How can you watch that scene even for the 201’st time and not cry?  I do.  I cry.

   I cry at the television commercial where the son is coming home from college and his little sister is up early but his parents are still sleeping and he makes himself a hot heaping cup of delicious Folgers Coffee.  How about when Judy Garland sings, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” to Margaret O’Brien and she sings “Someday soon we all will be together if the fates allow. Until then we’ll have to muddle through somehow.”?   I can’t help it I cry.  The thing is, the fates don’t allow that we will always be together.  The fates can’t be trusted.

  So how do we keep enjoying the magic of the season when you are 60 plus?

  The past is over and we are still here.  We have to make the best of the present and the future, but if you have lived to 60 and over we know that nothing is certain and life can be hard.  Sometimes life can be very, very hard.  Senior citizens know that life isn’t always a breeze.  The best way to enjoy Christmas is to just live in the present, the Christmas of this year and to give the gift of caring to all of your friends and family.  Thank you for reading my blog and thank you for your friendship.  Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! 

  Until Next Week…

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• Candid Nonpolitical Judgments on the Democratic Candidates’ Fashion Sense & Would they be Good Dinner Partners?

  Posted at 1:50 am by istheresexaftersixty, on December 6, 2019

  Now you may have noticed that I have pretty much stayed out of the political conversation during this very, heated political atmosphere.  You might think that I am not interested in politics but you would be wrong.  I don’t like to make people angry.  I like to be liked.  I am a people pleaser.  I wish I didn’t care but I do care.  WELL, that might be all over for me at this point because I am going to give you my real opinions on a group of candidates.  I AM GOING TO TELL YOU WHAT I THINK ABOUT THE FASHION STATEMENTS THAT THEY ARE MAKING.  It’s my opinion and only my opinion.  So if you are angry and you want to sue someone then you will have to sue my brain or my upbringing or maybe be my ancestors.  Anyway, who knows where or how opinions are formed?

  Just in case you need to know before we go any further into these assessments and in case you are dying to know more about me.  I am an Independent Voter.  I have voted equally for Republicans and Democrats and once or twice for an Independent.

  This isn’t going to be in any real order.  Today I am just critiquing the Democratic hopefuls who as of today’s date are still in the running.   I thought that I would start with the B’s Biden, Bloomberg, Booker, and Buttigieg.

  Pete, (I call him Pete) well he has a nice short haircut, he looks clean like he just took a shower and sprayed a nice clean lemony after shave lotion on his face and neck.  He is slim and often wears a white dress shirt with a button or two open at the top and long sleeves rolled up.  He wants to give the impression that he went to work wearing a suit and tie but that he was working so hard for you that he took off his jacket and his tie and rolled up his selves to show how serious he is about getting things done.

   Bloomberg has a nice hair cut, short and styled by the best.  He always wears suits and ties and they always look like they come from a good men’s tailor hopefully one from New York City.  He looks fit and trim so he cares how he looks and he always looks like a businessman.

   Cory or Booker as I like to call him.  Booker is tall 6’2” and really nice looking.  He shaves his head to give him that action hero look, however, he looks a little too nice to pull that look off.  Now let me tell you about his clothes.  Out of all of the men or women candidates, he is by far the best dressed.  His suits and ties and shirts are perfect and you know that he spends a good amount of his time picking out the perfect outfit for the perfect event and he is always the best-dressed man in the room.  His suits fit him and he makes sure that they fit perfectly.  Here is an interesting note…. his phone number can be found at the bottom of his website ladies.  If you are interested he is still available.

   Last of the B’s is Biden.   Joe is 77 years old and he is 6 ft. tall and he is very slim and trim.  He wears suits well and he is and looks comfortable in casual clothes.  He is very nice looking but what I notice about him is how straight this man stands.  The next time you see him on TV notice his posture.  It is nearly perfect.  I am not going to say one word about their political views … that’s not my job.  I am only giving you a sense of their style that’s all.  I will say this I would be more than happy to be seated next to any of these men at a dinner party.  I don’t care what political side you are on these guys would be great dinner partners.  Right?

  Castro, nice clothes, very trim, very clean looking but he has bad hair.  He is very short and it affects how people see him especially when standing next to a tall man or woman.  Not fair at all, but true.  He doesn’t give a strong impression.  Now Bloomberg is small but he gives a stronger impression.  I don’t make the rules I just report them how I see them.  (LOL)  Also, I don’t want to be seated next to him at a dinner party.  I think that I would have to do all of the talking.

  On to Sanders and Steyer.   Bernie, Bernie, Bernie, what can I say about Bernie’s style?   The best you can say about him is that he always looks sloppy and disheveled but always, always comfortable.  This is a guy who goes in his closet in the morning and picks out the most comfortable outfit that doesn’t have spots on it from last night’s dinner reception.  He looks as if he would rather be tortured or pretend to be having another heart attack than to be forced to put on a tux and put on a pair of patent leather shoes.  One problem with Bernie just might be his shoes.  He always looks a bit grumpy.  It might be his shoes.  Maybe his shoes don’t fit and that might make that grimace that you see on his face especially when you ask him a question that he doesn’t want to answer.  No, I do not want to be seated next to Bernie at a dinner party he might get mad at me or frown if I had a second glass of wine.

  Tom Steyer.  He is nice looking and dresses well.  He has a nice haircut and I think he is rather tall and good-looking.   He dresses appropriately for each occasion.  I am sure that he would make pleasant conversation as a dinner partner.  He is a billionaire and a philanthropist.  I would do my best to see if he would consider helping a struggling writer with a very small business that needs a new SUV.  Please pass the Dom Perignon, Tom.

  Okay now on to the ladies.

  Tulsi Gabbard, tall, pretty, nice shiny black hair.  I love her white pantsuits.  She looks, strong, tough, no-nonsense, and fast on her feet, yet feminine.  She looks like she would be comfortable in a ball gown or a jogging suit or a bathing suit.  She looks smart and she looks like she isn’t afraid to stand up for her opinions.

  Amy Klobuchar, mostly wears suits.  Suits with skirts and sometimes with trousers.  Nothing too fancy but she always fits in.   Nice looking suits.  She wears some jewelry and she wears some makeup a little not too much. She has a nice easy but attractive hairstyle.  She looks like a teacher or the principal of your high school.  Amy has a twinkle in her eye and a nice smile.

  Elizabeth Warren.  She is the reason I decided to tackle the style of our Democratic Candidates.  Liz, Liz, Liz.  What can I say about your style???   ONE THING, THAT IT, HASN’T CHANGED IN MANY, MANY, MANY YEARS???  I HAVE ONLY SEEN HER IN her black stretch pants and her black tank top.  On top of her tank top, she wears either a bright colored sweater or a jacket.  That is it.  That is all she ever, ever, ever, wears.  Her hair doesn’t have a style and she doesn’t wear makeup.  I don’t believe I have ever seen her with any jewelry on any part of her body.  Elizabeth if you want to be President of the United States you are going to have to wear another outfit someday or at the very least at your swearing-in ceremony.  Then please fix your hair and wear a touch of makeup.  One thing I will say about Elizabeth is that she is slim and trim and she might have the best figure out of all of the men and women.  I would really like her height and her figure.  Liz, you must workout because you have a great figure. By the way, I am pretty sure all of these ladies would be great dinner partners.

  Stay tuned for my views on the Republicans.  I have something to say about some of their wives too.  It’s fair because there are fewer of them running so I might have to add their wives and maybe a Republican Journalist or two to make it even.   You might be surprised because I really like the first and second ladies of our country.  I am nothing if I am not fair.  Right?

  Until Next Week… 

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• Do We Have a Choice?

  Posted at 1:17 am by istheresexaftersixty, on November 19, 2019

  Do you ever feel like you are going around in circles?  Have you seen hamsters in pet stores running on those metal wheels?  They keep running faster and faster and never get anywhere.   There is a quote; I am not sure who said it, maybe Einstein?  I am paraphrasing here, “Stupidity is when you do the same thing over and over in the same way and expecting a different outcome.”  Taking a look at my life I can see this,  as my life so far.  Am I that stupid hamster, running like crazy on that darn wheel as fast as my legs will carry me, spinning that squeaky wheel around and around and not getting anywhere?  Sometimes I do get tired and I get off of that damn wheel and I look around and there I am, right where I started still in that same old hamster cage with the leaky water bottle and sawdust in a pile on the floor.

  There have been times in my life where I have made really bold changes or bold moves to create change in my life.   Lost weight, worked out, changed my hairstyle and color, bought new clothes moved to a new city, new apartment tossed out everything old and stared with everything new.  Somehow I end up in the same place, with the same problems and the same life and mostly with the same people.  Are we stuck?  Is our future set up just how it is supposed to be when we are born?  Can we change anything or are we walking on a road and that road takes us to the same place no matter which fork in the road we take?  I’m starting to think that this might be the case.

  Theologians have been pondering this question probably since the beginnings of human reason.  Can we change our future or is it all just mapped out for us and no matter what changes we make or how far away we may roam perhaps we end up in the same place doing what we were programmed to do since birth.  This is an uncomfortable thought but as far as my life is concerned it seems like I might be fighting and changing and pushing but no matter what I do or how I change or try to fix my life I end up exactly where the mysterious God or gods and goddesses have decided to place me.

  Do we have free will?   I don’t really know?   When I was in high school I had no idea if I would be going to college or not.  I only decided to apply for college in my senior year a few months before graduation, because my high school counselor sat me down across from her in her small, dusty, dingy, dark, office and told me that I shouldn’t even try to get into college.  She said I would never be accepted into any college due to my lackluster grades.  I guess I had a different perspective on her view.  The same day she told me to forget going to college I decided to go to the school library (this was before computers, for my readers who are under 45 years old) and search for colleges that I might be mutually beneficial to the college and to me as well.   I applied to about eight colleges and universities.   I applied to a few of the best universities in the country.  I was accepted to all of the schools with two exceptions.  Northwestern University and SMU would accept me if I attended summer school in advance of the fall semester.  One University in the Midwest offered me a full scholarship.  That is the school I decided to attend.  I attended this college for two years and then I transferred to an International College in Paris, France.  Was this all because of my actions or was this preordained?

  As a very small child, I was fascinated by ocean travel.  I cut out pictures of ships.  I ordered pamphlets on ocean travel as soon as I could print.  When I was accepted to my International College in Paris they offered a very, very, reasonable price to travel across the ocean on the SS France.  I crossed the ocean on the ship of my dreams.  Was it meant to be?

  Now here is the interesting part of this scenario.  The summer before I had any idea of going to school in Europe my good friend asked me to accompany her to a metaphysical convention.   During this convention, a man walked up to me and said, “You will be going to a school in France in the next year and the name of the school will start with the letter S.”  This happened.  I decided to escape to a college in France due to a broken heart and the name of the school began with the letter S.  Was it meant to be?

  When I was about nineteen.  My sister and some friends of ours played with the Ouija broad.  I guess we asked it if we would get married or not and to whom that might be.  It said I would marry a man who was living in a foreign land and it said that his initials were TB.  When I was growing up TB stood for Tuberculosis.  I think that is why I remembered the initials TB.   My “Was-band” is French and those are his initials.  When I met my husband we talked for a while and he left me abruptly, not long after we spoke.  I remembered being surprised because I had a strange feeling that I was going to know him for a long time.  Well, he returned after about 30 minutes and a year later we were engaged.   So far we have known each other for 39 years. Was it inevitable?  Who knows???

  I always thought that I was going to have two boys.  I bought a painting in my 20’s of two boys playing in the rain.   As a child in art school, I did two clay sculptures of two boys with the age difference of my own children.  I always wished to have several children but I miscarried several times.  When I was a few months pregnant with each of my sons, the obstetrician asked me if I wanted to know the gender of my child, both times I told him.  I said, “It’s a boy.”  Both times the doctor asked me how I knew and he asked me who had told me?  I said, “I just know!  I’ve always known that I was going to have two boys.”  Was this meant to be?

  Last January I had a strange premonition.  I was extra careful as I drove my car with the worry that someone would hit me.  I don’t know why I felt so worried?  I loved my car and kept it in perfect condition.  One day I actually gave it a pat because my car had seen me through so many years and I said out loud, “Thank you, you have been a good car.”  The very next day I was driving straight through a wide, busy, boulevard and the light was green.  The light turned to yellow, as I was halfway through the street.  A large black Ford Truck turning left hit my Jeep at full speed running the light.   The truck totaled my Jeep.  I broke my foot and smashed my knee and was bruised everywhere but the Jeep saved my life. I remembered thinking directly after I was hit, that I was relieved that the crash that I had predicted, was over.  It had happened and thank heavens I was still alive. Was this preordained?  Who knows?

  Now, a little more than two years ago I was supposed to move to the big city in my new apartment all by myself.  I was going to continue with my easy job as the owner of a small seasonal business and enjoy my life, really enjoying, (so to speak) the “Life of Riley”.  My ex said that he would pay my rent, plus some, my kids were grown and the pets preferred living with my “was-band”.  I was free.  In a few months, everything changed.  My ex through no fault of his own couldn’t pay me anymore and my oldest son and my ex and the three pets all moved in with me.  I had to pay for everyone.  So now as a senior citizen, I am paying for three people and three pets.  I have a business and am getting a full-time job and writing this blog.  Was this meant to be?  My guess is that my easy, “Life of Riley” wasn’t in my future.  Could I have changed anything?   Frankly, I doubt it.

  The only thing I am sure about these days is how I handle what might be in front of me.  Maybe our lives happen to us.  Maybe we can’t change the future.  It might be set and fixed for us.   The only thing I know is that I will keep going and that I will keep trying and I will keep smiling no matter what life has in store for me.  I’m pretty sure of that!  Was I born with this personality or was it acquired?  Who knows???

  Until Next Week…

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• Me Too? Not Me, Well, Not Exactly Me!

  Posted at 10:59 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on November 8, 2019

  Have you noticed lately that people are going slightly crazy?  I mean they are losing their minds about stupid little things.  For instance, let’s take the issue of men and women’s bathrooms.  How about if you have a men’s special part (you know the one I mean, it looks like a kind of faucet and it sticks out in front of them below the waist, that thing.) you go to a men’s bathroom, if you don’t have that thing, you go to a woman’s bathroom.  If you aren’t sure what you are, let’s have a bathroom (and frankly I have seen this) where there is a picture of a man and a woman on the door and you visit that bathroom.  Everyone is happy, right?   It makes sense to me.

  Are we sick of politics yet?  NO? Well then, let’s just tiptoe into the conversation, but just for a minute or two. How about if someone has voted for someone you don’t like or with whom you disagree, how about you don’t kick, hit, or spit, or threaten, the person because of their choice?  Of course, this is just a suggestion.  If they are holding a sign and you don’t agree with this sign.  Just move on.  Maybe, don’t wish anyone dead?  This is also, a good idea.  People can change their minds.  I certainly have in the past and the present.  A good idea is to consider stating facts clearly and simply.  Sometimes this can work.  At the very least, it makes you aware of a different point of view.  There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?  I might be different than some people on television, but I see lots of good important views on all sides of every normal political discussion.  Yes, indeed, on BOTH SIDES.

   There is a new movement in the last few years.  It is correct and justified in many, many, many, instances, however, like everything these days, it might be going way too far for me.   Recently, some women, and I guess some men too, have objected to the winter song, “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” This song was written by, Frank Loesser in 1944.  BTW, this song won an academy award.  I just thought I would mention that fact.   It was considered to be a pretty good song in its day.  I will make a full disclosure, I love this song.  The song is about a man and a woman.  It is cold and snowy outside.   Inside the man and woman,  possibly had dinner and drinks and they are sitting close together on a couch (no doubt) in front of a cozy fire.  The man wants the woman to stay in front of this fire with him.  Could be he is interested in this woman?  (Yeah, think so?)  The woman thinks that she should leave, as any proper woman in the 1940’s would think after dinner and a drink or two.    He tries to coax her to stay and frankly she would like to stay.  Okay, he probably would like her to stay because, “OH NO NOT THAT?” he probably wants to have sex with her, and GUESS WHAT? She actually might want the same thing?  HOW SHOCKING AND HOW TERRIBLE IS THAT?  You mean to tell me that men and women might have, at one time, in the far distant past, actually wanted to have sex?  You mean to tell me that men tried to get a woman in bed, and occasionally they succeeded?  Women actually might have wanted the same thing?  Did someone have to be talked into it?  Did people really flirt with each other when they went to dinner, had drinks and might have, just might have, decided, (good or bad) to have sex?

  Listen, I get it.  No one should be forced into anything.  NO, means NO!    I, 100% agree.  Don’t yell at me after you are finished reading this post.  Men have talked women into having sex.  It happens.   I blush.  It has happened to me.  Here is a surprise for you men too. There are times when women pretend that it was all the man’s idea.   Sometimes it is the woman’s idea too.

    I am a flirt.  I readily admit that fact.  I am not insulted if a man flirts with me.  I like it.  I am pretty sure I will always like flirting.  Here are the rules.  If someone flirts and you don’t like it, tell her or him.  If it is at work you have to be careful.   One shouldn’t be offered a job or not offered a job because of sex or dating, or no sex and no dating.   I repeat, NO, IS NO!   If you say, maybe, than maybe, probably means you can still coax the person, and then, what will be will be.  I don’t think that is too difficult to figure out?

   Now, if you are like me and over 65 and really, if anyone wants to flirt at any time, anywhere, well, just sit back and enjoy it.  Keep that fire going and pour me another glass of Champagne.  I’m not going home just yet.

  Until Next Week…

  | 2 Comments

• I’m Mad as Hell & I’m Going to Keep Taking It?

  Posted at 10:00 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on October 17, 2019

  Let’s begin at the very beginning of my frustration, it’s called, the grocery store.  First, let me just say that grocery stores of my youth were nice little neighborhood stores where everyone knew you and your family.   If I went to the store, half of the time people would ask if my sister was going to cheer at the game on Saturday or the butcher would tell me that he ordered the goose for my mother for our usual Christmas dinner.  My mother would often order our food over the phone and the groceries would be dropped off at the back door.  My mother didn’t have to tell anyone what brand she wanted, the grocer knew and placed it in the order.  (I know, we do have Amazon now in our city, and you can order your groceries and they drop them off at your door, but it’s not as personal, it’s just not the same.)

  When I shop at my local grocery store it is always packed with people, it doesn’t matter what time I arrive, morning, noon, or night, it is always crowded with pushy, unhappy, people.  It is almost impossible to find parking. I live in a place where it often snows 8 or 9 months of the year.  This means that there is ice and snow and dirty slush to be waded through from your car to the entrance of the megastore most of the year.  While I’m on the subject don’t you hate the people that leave their shopping carts in your parking spot!!  I hate these people.

  Recently, my local store has made the aisles narrower, and the shelves higher.  So when the lady ahead of you stands in front of the pickle section for ten minutes deciding if she wants spears or circles or sweet or garlic, you are standing behind her and it is impossible for you to reach around her and her husband to grab your Zesty Kosher dills!!  (No, I’m not Kosher, but they are really good pickles)

  Did I mention the height of the shelves??  Not every one of us is over 6 feet tall.  I wear flats because the grocery store is miles long, and I have to wear comfortable shoes for the two mile hike. I like to make 3-bean salad.  You need yellow wax beans to make a good 3-bean salad.  The yellow wax beans are on the top shelf, 7 or 8 feet above the ground.  I am 5’2 ½” tall and I don’t have long arms.  (I always have to roll my sleeves when buying a long sleeve shirts or sweaters.  BTW this makes me mad too)  Since, I am not going to climb up shelves to reach the can of my yellow wax beans, therefore, I stand in the aisle with a group of unhappy people waited for me to move my ass.   I wait until a tall person comes along.  I smile a sweet, helpless, smile and beg some hopefully nice person if they would be kind enough to hand me a can of yellow wax beans.  Young people often give me a funny look that says,  “Why would anyone want to buy yellow wax beans?”   Listen, if you like bean salad, I make a really great bean salad.  Just saying …

  Now, let’s discuss something that really drives me crazy.  HAS ANYONE NOTICED HOW NORMAL SIZED ITEMS HAVE GROWN SMALLER IN THE LAST FEW YEARS?  Do they think we don’t notice???   We aren’t all dumb blonds!  Full disclosure* I am blond but I do have two college degrees for heavens sake!

   A message to the Campbell soup company, Do you think that we haven’t noticed that one can of soup in the 1960’s used to feed a family of four.   Now one can of soup makes one small bowl or two small tea cups of soup.   Hey, Stouffer’s Frozen Food, My mother often bought your Spinach Soufflé for a side dish for a family of four, accompanying our meatloaf and baked potatoes.  Now it might be a side dish for one or a side dish for two infants.  Hey, Lay’s, your potato chips used to come in a big bag and the bag was full.  Now the large family size is in a small bag and it is half-full.  Hey, Nabisco, my 31-year-old son loves the cheese crackers you make.  He loved them as a child.  I recently bought him a box of his favorite cheese crackers.  Today they came in a box that was a little larger than his right hand and when he opened the same bag that was nestled inside of the small box, the bag was half-full.  The cheese crackers are now the size of the nail on my index finger.  (I might mention that I have small hands as well as being short in stature.)

  These companies are not alone.  This is a trick that all products are guilty of pushing on what they think of as the ”ignorant public”.  Now, guys, on your side of things, let me say that in most cases the quality of your products has stayed the same.  Your food is really good and the quality has occasionally improved, however, while I am still angry,  the other thing that I have noticed,  Hey, Lay’s, your chips are much thinner.  Not as good or as crunchy as they used to be … this goes for your Doritos too.  Sorry you might be owned by Frito-Lay.  Is that the same company?  I can’t keep track.  At any rate, the chips are thinner and WE HAVE NOTICED THIS FACT.  One more thing, pasta companies, we have noticed you aren’t putting as much pasta in your boxes and the boxes are smaller.  The price is still pretty good but it has gone up along with all of the above products.

  Please grocery stores, hire people to help me pack my groceries.  I am terrible at packing my own grocery items.  I smash my bread when packing my own groceries, and my ice cream melts onto my steaks and my grapes are crushed under my canned goods.  I am nervous to take too long while packing my own groceries.  So please have that high school boy help me and he can help me put them in my car too.  (Ever try to lift a box of cat litter into your trunk?  Not too mention my large wine bottles.)   Oh, I like plastic bags too. I know, I know, it isn’t good for our ecology.  I have an excuse.  I use them to clean the cat’s littler box, everyday.  I use them to pack my son’s lunch.  I reuse them and I recycle the bags I don’t use.  I promise!!!

  Okay, now after I have said all that.  We are really lucky to live in a country that is chock-full of every kind of food and fruit and vegetable and meat and fish product that you can imagine.  We do have really good food items as well as cleaning items and drug store items and school supplies.  We are so lucky to have tons of products from which to choose, in our mega-stores.  I am grateful and frankly I don’t know how they do it and keep everything really pretty clean and the shelves stocked full.

  I let go of most of my anger, by writing this post.  I feel better.  Just don’t try to sneak into my parking space when I am pulling in and put your damn cart back where it belongs, or I’ll be mad as Hell!!!

  Until Next Week… 

  | 3 Comments

• Is Sex On Your Bucket List?

  Posted at 1:41 am by istheresexaftersixty, on October 11, 2019

   

  When I was about 54 or 55, I was sitting at a table with about four of my best friends.  At the time, we were having our monthly dinner party in one of our local restaurants.   As ladies will do, after talking about our basic issues concerning, work, our family, the latest news, the conversation drifted off to relationships.  Three out of four of us were essentially single.  One of the four of us was in a long-time, contented, relationship, with her partner of many years.  One of my friends has been single her whole life, one was divorced and then there is me… I am the one in limbo.  I was married at 30 and after a whole lot of ups and downs the marriage was faltering after 20 years and died a pretty miserable death a little more than two months after our 24^th anniversary.

  I acquired a full-time job, within two weeks after my husband left me for greener pastures.  I asked him to leave, for many good reasons that I won’t go into now, due to lack of time and frankly; I just don’t care anymore.  The reasons aren’t really important.  I have let the anger and sadness go.  I am no longer angry or upset.  It is over.   It is so, so, so, great, not to hold onto anger or disappointment or hurt.  I let it all go and so I’m free to be worried or upset or hurt by other things.   I am telling you this so that you may see how far I have come in the last several years.  Sure, I am a “Zen-like” person, but I haven’t changed… now I am hysterical about a whole new group of other things.

   Am I still hurt by men?  DUH???  Sure, hey, I am an enlightened person but not THAT enlightened.  In the last month my feelings were hurt and believe me he wasn’t worth it … the only difference is that after 60, everything … even death … (well, not all death, but some people’s, death, like people that you never really liked, their death, or, like the guy that hurt you… his death) is a breeze!   See how enlightened I am???  Almost everything is easier to get over after 60.  Did I mention, lemon cake, or pasta, or lots of wine, or one to three, martinis before dinner???  NO?  Well, any of those things also help a lot to get you to that enlightened Zen-like place as well.

   Some people believe in jogging or taking long walks or yoga classes, to feel better.  Okay, if you want to be popular with the “In Crowd” in Hollywood.  I can pretend to be like them too.  I wear my yoga outfit to pick up my mail in the lobby of my building with my hair in a ponytail.  I look tired … like I just finished Pilates, with my personal instructor.  I can fool the best of them.  If someone comes for a visit to my apartment, I make sure to dust my stationary bike, first, then, I wipe my forehead as my guest enters my apartment and I make sure to leave my Nike, (Air Force 1 Shadow Shoes) right next to the front door.  I dirty the shoes just in case someone notices that they haven’t been worn.

  Well, back to my dinner with my friends (in case you forgot; that was where I left off, after the first paragraph in this post) … At this very dinner party with my girlfriends, I made an announcement.  Everyone was talking about their boyfriend problems and their possible dates and I was nodding my head as I usually do when I listen to my friend’s conversations.  When I blurted out, “I want to have sex before I die!!! “   This stopped the conversation at once, as one might imagine.  Everyone stared at me and started to talk at once.  I think it is because I am so very motherly looking and acting.  People don’t think of me as a sexual person.  It’s there.  It is hidden behind a very sickeningly, not sexy, but sort of sweet, older, face.  Hardly anyone suspects a real sexual person might be trying to escape.

   I used to live in what was a famous but very small town. 

  Somehow the word got out about my conversation with my friends.  Who would have thought??  All of a sudden, men, some young men, some younger brothers, of young men, lots of married men, seemed to come out of the woodwork.  Men would arrive at my house to lend a hand.  Men were offering to “tote that barge and lift that bale” for me, all out of the blue.   It is amazing what men will do for you just in case they might have an opportunity to have a quickie.  Did I mention married men?  I was very attractive to married men.  Were any one of these men interested in anything except a quick affair? NO!  One man even told me that he was only interested in one time.  He wanted me one time and that was it.

  The whole experience was amusing to me.  I was totally unaware that I even had a hint of sexual appeal.  If you have been in a bad marriage for a while and if you just spend your time working, being a conscientious mother, pet owner, and friend, one forgets that one has anything that anyone would want?   It was amusing and sort of flattering.  I walked with a quicker step.  I know that I have written about this one man’s view of my possible future, before, however, a good line is worth repeating.  One very handsome, young, man looked me in the eye and said, “You know, men will stop looking at you in a few years.”  In other words, I better get right to it, now, while there was still time.  (LOL) I love that line because I had no idea anyone had been looking at me for the last ten years!

   I am still here, yes, older and probably not too much wiser.  I didn’t fall in love.  I wasn’t wild or carefree then and I am not very wild or carefree now.  I just adore all of the courageous, sexually, adventurous, friends, throughout my life, that are not deterred by possible embarrassment or the pain that often might accompany the loss of love. I am totally for sex and fun and excitement and adventure.   Somewhere is there still that sexual tiger clawing to get out?  Is there such a woman inside, after one reaches, plus 60?  Who knows?  I guess where there is life there is hope.

  Until Next Week…

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