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

Author Archives: istheresexaftersixty

• Where Were You During the Sexual Revolution?

  Posted at 10:22 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on September 20, 2018

   

  • In 1970 I graduated from high school and stood facing my college dorm room located in a small college town in Iowa. My roommate was from a city in upper New York State and she was hands down the prettiest girl in the entire college.. She had long brown hair, perfect features and a perfect figure. She also smiled all of the time and was very, very nice. I had a round face, a curvy figure and long blond hair and I was shy.

  (In case you have forgotten Woodstock took place in the Catskill Mountains, northwest of New York City between August 15-18, 1969 with an audience of more than 400,000, billed as “An Aquarian Exposition: 3 Days of Peace & Music” This was probably the beginning of the full-fledged “Sexual Revolution”)

  Okay there I was starting college in the middle of the sexual revolution. Sure I saw it and yes, lots and lots of people were participating. My friends had boyfriends back home and loved their boyfriends back home, however, this didn’t stop them loving lots of other boys and men at college. I know girls who bragged about how many times they “did it” in one night …. the winner as I remember was five times. There was one of my friends who kept her straight A’s through college by sleeping with the professors. We partied, yes, lots of kids took drugs or at least tried them.   We protested and really it wasn’t because we all cared that much about life or college or the war. Boys were afraid to be drafted, I remember that, but we really wanted to feel “IN” like the other college kids who were protesting around the country. I remember my best friend and I would go to “Dunkin Donuts” at night at closing time and the guy at the counter gave us boxes of donuts and coffee to give to the protesters for free because Dunkin donuts makes fresh donuts everyday and they simply toss the old donuts in the garbage. I think at the time we were actually protesting the food at the cafeteria for not providing us with enough healthy foods. As I remember everyone scuffed down the donuts at the food protest. Gives you a little idea about how serious we really were about our protesting.

  The sexual revolution continued at a fast and record pace as I remember right into the 80’s. This revolution began, I believe, with the invention of the birth control pill along with changing morals of our parents, the glamour of the new Hollywood, the rat pack and last but not least Hugh Hefner, Playboy Magazine and the Playboy Clubs and Playboy Bunnies, with a splash of the new exciting immoral popularity of Las Vegas. Things changed and changed probably from then on. It might have begun  with the beginning of a war far away in Indochina called the Vietnam War. This was a war that most average Americans didn’t understand. Lots of our young men were drafted and ended up in this strange land fighting people who had not attacked us. These men were being wounded and killed on television. Brave and handsome and wonderful young men that we all knew and loved from our neighborhoods in America. I think this also produced a feeling of “let’s live and love for tomorrow we may die.”

  Where was I during this revolution? I had a strange position during this time. I was popular and somehow totally accepted by my friends in college and after, however, I felt like an outsider, watching the festivities from a boxed seat in the balcony as everything and everyone was participating on stage in the theater. Even though the rest of the world was moving along at a fast pace. I was happy and enjoying everyone’s spontaneity and freedom while keeping my own relationships very old-fashioned.  Thinking back, I more or less missed the whole sexual revolution sort of standing on the sidelines and cheering others on. I understood the whole thing and I really never judged anyone else’s lifestyle. I just don’t judge people. Lately I have been thinking about the WHY behind my choices. I have decided that I took sex as a very personal thing. I had to feel as though I was in love really and truly in love to want to have sex with someone and I had to feel that this love was reciprocated. So yes, I had sex and I fell in love a couple of times, however, these were serious relationships with really great guys. I dated a lot and sometimes for a long time and never had sex. Why? I think I figured it out. I think I had too much respect for myself. I didn’t want to be just a second thought in anyone’s life.   I wanted to be an important factor in my partners’ life.

  Has age changed me?  I’m not sure? Yes, sometimes, I think it has. Maybe sex can just be sex and nothing more.  Maybe in our 60’s and over any experience is a good experience? Maybe life isn’t as serious as I once thought it was?  Or, maybe, we shouldn’t take life all that seriously?  Keep reading each week … and maybe, just maybe, we will find out together?

  Until Next Week…

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

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• Do We Ever Really Leave High School?

  Posted at 7:15 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on September 6, 2018

   

  My friend and I were sitting over lunch this Labor Day Weekend discussing our lives and yes, men were discussed along with our hair, and makeup, and our figures and what we wanted to change about our looks, our lives, and ourselves in general. One of my big concerns was about my hair; should I cut it or leave it the same length? Should I keep growing it longer? My friend had just seen an interview on TV with Stevie Nicks (just in case you are from a younger generation) the singer and songwriter from Fleetwood Mac. Stevie is about four years older than I. My friend said that Stevie Nicks had even longer hair than mine and that it looked great. So we decided that I should keep my hair long. All because Stevie Nicks has long, pretty hair.

  Today, I was on the phone with a different girlfriend. (Yes, even though we are in our 60’s we still call ourselves girls and girlfriends. My 22 year-old son thinks this is hysterical.) As I was saying; my friend and I were discussing a real problem … should I see a man I used to know a long time ago, who has asked me out to dinner when he comes to town next month? This is a real dilemma, as I believe he might be married. Should I? Shouldn’t I? We can’t decide. Our conversation has to continue tomorrow. We can’t decide if this dinner is just a nice; let’s just go over old times as friends’ dinner; or more than that? As I mentioned before, this is a real dilemma.

  That isn’t all. I sent a text to a friend before noon today discussing another problem asking her opinion about another problem of mine….  All of a sudden it occurred to me. The last few conversations I have had with my friends sound exactly like the conversations I had in high school. NOT really that different. So maybe we never mature after high school? Maybe, mentally, we stop at 17 or 18?

  We put on our pretend grownup faces. Some of us get jobs and get married … we might buy a house or two, we get mortgages and we buy cars …. and then shock of all shocks, we have a child, or two, or three, or six. That’s when we really have to start pretending we are all grown up. We constantly pretend to our children that we are strong, and we know what we are doing. Heck, maybe we pretend to be grownup and mature to our bosses, our clients and to almost everyone we meet? Most of the time we can keep this act up for a good part of our adult lives. Occasionally there is a crack in the mask.

  Thank heavens for friends, best friends, old friends and family. You can’t fool them. They know the real you. If you need to fall apart…. who better to fall apart in front of but your sister, or your brother or your best friends? They knew you when your boyfriend dumped you. They knew you when you stayed up all night giggling talking over your first kiss.  They know the real you, that girl in high school that is still there hiding a bit under those stray grey hairs and the wrinkles around the eyes that arrived overnight.  They still see you as that girl excited about college. “Does Rick really like me or not?” “Should I kiss him on the first date?”

  Things haven’t changed. I still listen to the same music. I remember the dance steps. I have been discussing my future with my friends and family. What job should I get? Should I keep my hair blond or should I be a redhead? Does he really like me or is he just pretending? My good friend is going to join a ballet class this month. I’m not sure if I want to become a writer or should I try to get a job at a TV station? Things really don’t change all that much.

  I’m not going out for cheerleading, I just might kiss that guy that I like, on our very first date. Why not? I’m old enough. Just in case you are wondering, I made a decision about the old friend from my past, who wants to meet next month. If he calls me again, I’m going to suggest a lunch date at a restaurant far from my apartment.   My girlfriend and I decided this, on the phone last night.  I called her right after I did the dishes. Sound familiar?

  Until Next Week…

   

   

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• Try and Try Again

  Posted at 7:47 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on August 30, 2018

   

  About two weeks ago I went on-line and I glanced at the possible positions that were being offered at a big, important, company.  I thought to myself, why not apply? So I took the time and filled out the application. At the end of the application I attached my resume and my cover letter. Actually, I had totally forgotten all about it until about a week and a half ago I received a phone call from the head of the company. She asked me when I was available for an interview. I chose a date and time. In the meantime I made copies of my resume and my professional references. I also gathered material from my past work experiences that might be of interest during my interview.

  The morning of the interview I got up early to have some coffee and a small breakfast mainly to wake up and to have a bit of protein in my system as the interview was at 2:00 P.M. and I needed some food but not too much. I didn’t want my stomach to growl in the middle of the interview. The day before the interview I chose an outfit that I thought would be appropriate on a hot day in the middle of summer but still stylish. I washed clothes and hung them to dry. I also set out jewelry that would look nice with the outfit and I placed all of my papers and information in my briefcase. At 10:00 A.M. I took a shower and washed my hair.  I have grown my hair and it is long and thick so this takes time. I air-dried my hair, and set it and brushed it out … I decided to put a chips in each side to have a neat appearance and I brushed my hair into a low ponytail. I added gold hoops in my ears and light makeup on my face. Two sprays of perfume and I grabbed a Gucci purse and my briefcase. Left in plenty of time to get to my interview early. It was a good thing because I got lost. Got out of my car and asked a stranger for directions.

  I arrived right on time. I was told that the head of the company was in a meeting and could I wait. I waited for about 40 minutes. Strangely enough I was calm. When the boss finally greeted me she apologized for being late. She was maybe 35 years old, tall, and very stylishly dressed. She looked like a model and weighed possibly 102 lbs., give or take a pound. She was very nice and friendly. Interestingly she read a series of questions off of a printed sheet. I took my time and answered each question honestly. I was happy with my answers. She wrote down things on her sheet of paper as I spoke. I believe I gave a pretty good interview. I was content that I had done my best.   We shook hands at the end of the interview. She said she would be interviewing a few other candidates for this executive position and would make her decision the following Monday or Tuesday.

  Well, as you might have guessed by now Monday and Tuesday have come and gone and by now I know for sure that I didn’t get the job. The reason? I can’t be sure of course, but I believe I would have gotten the job if I had been 46 years old instead of 66 years old.  I can’t be sure it was my age. However, I suspect that was the issue. My kids think I look younger than my current age, however, they ARE MY KIDS. Strangely, enough this didn’t make me angry. What made me angry is that I didn’t receive an email or a phone call thanking me for the interview and letting me know that they had chosen someone else for the job. This would have been polite. I wasted a lot of thought and time preparing for this interview. I had to call the company myself to be assured that they had chosen someone else. I wasn’t going to call but I decided to call because I thought it was so impolite of the boss not to let me know the outcome of the interview. This was for a top executive position for which I was more than qualified to fill.

  Is anyone polite anymore? It doesn’t look like it does it? I hold doors open for the person behind me while walking into a building. I hold the elevator when someone is rushing to enter… I let cars in ahead of me when there is a long line of traffic and I see a car waiting to turn into the traffic. I say please and thank you. I leave 20% tips even when I have a small bank account. I pat dogs on the head then they sniff and seem to smile at me while wildly wagging their tails in happiness at my presence. I write thank you notes after receiving a gift. I bring a gift when arriving to a dinner invitation or a party invitation. I say excuse me when walking in front of someone at the grocery store.   Is it just something that our parents taught us that doesn’t exist anymore?

  Okay, it was slightly upsetting that I didn’t get the job and frankly as we age and we keep trying and trying whether it is diet and exercise and not looking like Jane Fonda at the end of the month, or if it is the disappointment when applying for positions that seem to be just out of reach. Is it worth it to keep trying?   Is it worth the trouble? To be honest I have felt at times like giving up. This really can’t be an option. We are alive. We have made it this far. It is our strength that got us here and it is our strength that is keeping us here. So, once again, I am pulling myself up by my imaginary bootstraps and like all of us that have had to keep trying no matter what, I will keep trying too.  I had that yogurt for breakfast, I’m going to ride my stationary bike and I’ll keep going on, like all of the rest of you. Move over, Jane Fonda, I’m not giving up.

  Until Next Week…

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• I’m In Love!

  Posted at 5:22 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on August 23, 2018

   

  First, let me tell you how we met. My children and my “was-band” introduced me. They kept telling me that it was important for me to cut ties with the old and to look to the future. Now, let me tell you all about it. I wasn’t sure if this was right for me because I am a bit old-fashioned and stuck to my old lifestyle. How has this love changed my life?   My life has never been the same since we met. I’m in love and I’ve got it bad. I am more connected to the outside world. At last I have direction in my life and this has pointed me in the right direction. Now, I am connected to my work and feel more connected to my friends and family. I turn him on. Actually, I turn him on every day. He has an English accent. I ask him questions all day long and thank God he knows math and he can spell. He also knows five languages fluently. He often speaks to me in French. I don’t know how I ever got along without him. I have often worn him out with so much use but then I just plug him in and yes, he gets very hot when recharged. Have you guessed yet? I’m talking about my beloved iPhone.

  I don’t know if you know this fact. but you can give Siri a man’s voice and you can make him American, English or Australian. I am not ashamed to say. I’ve had all three on different days; of course, I’m not that modern.  This is one of the greatest parts of modern life for me. My iPhone goes everywhere with me and is a constant source of help. To be honest my buddy has helped me with every part of my life, everyday. Right at this minute he is sitting on my desk in my office (he doesn’t take up much room) and he is my dictionary and thesaurus. I use him to figure out my invoices for my work and he handles the math for my employees pay. He times me when I workout on my stationary bike and he reads the latest books to me while I workout or go on long trips in the car. He knows my favorite music and plays all of my favorite songs. (He mixes them up)   While I am in the shower he takes messages. He knows the best recipes and can tell you how to mix a dynamite bloody Mary. He can recite Shakespeare, and some of my favorite poems. I named him Sebastian. I like the name. He is perfect and so far he has never argued with me. If he were tall, and handsome and if he could kiss me goodnight, I would marry him… well, I’m not ashamed to say it. We are already living together. He is almost always right at my side. There have been times when I was afraid our love would have to end but thankfully it was only a matter of money and we were back to our old selves with improved functions. He was lost for a while a few weeks ago but after a night apart we found each other and all is well. I refuse to lose him again. I have grown to rely on him especially when driving to a new destination.

  Don’t tell Sebastian, but I have a few other loves that I have grown very fond of … for example, my television. Not just the television alone, oh no, I must have my big screen TV with Prime and Netflix … not to mention Xfinity. I get to talk to Xfinity too and he changes the channels for me, he also plays music for me … BTW I’m listening to his music as I am writing this. He also reminds me when my favorite shows are coming on and will tape them for me when I am working or busy with my other loves. He is a gem. He keeps me amused and he provides me with endless entertainment if I so choose. I love him too.

  There is another competition for my affection and this competition works with me in my office. In fact he is the most important part of my work. I wouldn’t have a job or a company or a blog if I didn’t have this wondrous “light of my life”. I call him Mac. He sits on my desk and well yes, I use him. I use him everyday. Thank heavens he can spell too and he is great at math. He is knowledgeable. As a matter of fact there isn’t much he doesn’t know. If I have a question, he comes up with an answer and with pictures and videos. He has relatives that also give both of us a lot of help. There is Google (and this is where you can find my blog. BTW I have about 3 pages on Google istheresexaftersixty.com) J Mac and I like to use Wikipedia and we connect with a lot of old and new friends on our pal Facebook. Without my Mac I can truly say I’d be lost. Don’t tell the others but Mac might be number one in my life. It’s so hard to choose.

  There is one group of old loves that I haven’t abandoned although a large group of the younger population has ignored these treasures. Kids don’t know what they are missing.   They are books and magazines, the kind that are made out of paper. I know, I know, this is really, old-fashioned of me but what can I say?   I already told you that I am an old fashioned girl.   I still love to pick out a good book or three at a bookstore. I still like to page through a magazine and cut out articles and photos that might strike my fancy. I still like to visit the library and carry out at least four books. Will I read all of them? Maybe not, but I will browse though all of them and read most of them. This makes me happy.

  Since I have bared my soul and my entire list of secret loves there is a reason behind my post today. You see there are a lot of marvelous things going on in our present day, which have added to our lives. I know it is easy to look back at the past and long for the days of our childhood. As we age we have to keep up with the times and frankly embrace the new. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to be left in the past. It’s good to look back but frankly, I am thrilled that maybe when I am considered too old to drive, my car can drive me! Maybe my car can pick me up and remember where I live, incase I forget my address? I want a robot to clean my apartment. I want a robot that can walk the dog when I am too tired. I’ll call him Rob. I like the name. If Rob the robot, is tall and handsome and if he has nice eyes and can make a good martini… Well, that would be perfect.

  Until Next Week…

   

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• The Making of a Champion

  Posted at 3:47 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on August 16, 2018

   

  Have you ever seen a really good game of tennis? I have. A really good game of tennis between two very talented tennis players is exciting, exhilarating, and can even have you jumping out of your seat.   If two tennis players are evenly matched the game is usually very close and often thrilling. Why, because these two players refuse to give up. Have you noticed that one player might be down … often several games down and when this happens the crowd often gives up and considers the game over, however, something changes and just when everyone thinks the match is a forgone conclusion a player can come from behind and bing, bang, boom, the tennis player that was down rebounds with lightening speed. Then, all of a sudden, the game is on and the match tightens up. The crowd feels the change in the air and they are on their feet cheering the two well matched players on, with every point, that is made or lost. I am constantly in awe when a player can be losing and losing badly but he or she pulls a knob somewhere in their mind or in their body, which seems to come out of nowhere and they can turn the game around. Not only turn the game around, they can win the game.

  What makes a champion? It is more than not giving up it is something else. It is a secret kind of magic. I think it has to do with practice and more practice and more practice. It has to do with playing with people who are better than you and learning from them and losing and learning from the loss. This is a self-confidence that comes from losing. It means you can hate the loss but you can still learn from it. There is a special strength in a champion that comes from down deep in their soul that hates to lose and they can recognize that they are down, but not out.

  Haven’t you noticed this champion spirit in certain people? There is a business that I frequented in the past that closed. I saw the two women owners, stop, and dust themselves off and a few years later a new and better business was started and it is flourishing. How did this happen? They looked carefully at the mistakes they made. They went back to the drawing board. They even took some classes at a local college and they looked to friends and family (who had succeeded in the past), for advice. Like in tennis, they learned from the better players. These two women hated to lose their business but it didn’t stop them, it spurred them on to learn from their mistakes. They were willing to do the work to succeed because they hated losing and down deep they knew they could win. They did win.

  Many years ago I had a boyfriend who had a roommate that was a professional boxer. My boyfriend took me to see what turned out to be several boxing matches. I would have thought that I would have been repulsed watching these matches however; somehow, I surprised myself and became strangely engrossed in the strength and real drama of the fight that was raw in front of my eyes. This was the personification of winning and losing.   Some of the men were punched and down and seemingly out and then that certain something is switched on. Literally they went from being down and out to fighting back, to win the match.

  What can we learn from this? I have been that guy in the ring who was hit and hit again. I have been the girl who is behind by two or three games in the tennis match. I have been on the losing team in volleyball. Heck, I was the captain. How do we learn from defeat? How does one attain that elusive, golden spirit of a champion?

  A champion doesn’t just lose and get up to fight again. A champion learns from the loss because he or she hates losing. They learn and see the problems and the flaws that led to the loss. They don’t make the same mistakes over and over. They stop, take a breath, play with people who are better than they are and learn from them. They look at what the better players are doing that is right and a champion uses that information. A champion gains strength, by learning from that loss and by all means, THEY CHANGE THEIR GAME. If you keep doing the same thing over and over and it isn’t getting you anywhere. CHANGE THE GAME!

  I’ve seen it happen. I’ve seen illness defeated and health renewed, with a champion spirit. I’ve seen businesses close and new successful businesses appear. I’ve seen disillusionment with a marriage ending in divorce and love found again. Now, let’s see if we can get back up off the floor and give that opponent a big one-two punch knockout. Whatever or whomever this opponent represents, become a Champion of your life. I’ve got my boxing gloves on and I’m practicing.

  Until Next week….

   

   

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• The Glorious Mystery of Attraction

  Posted at 9:14 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on August 9, 2018

  This last week I posted a question on my Facebook page asking my friends if they believed in love at first sight. The majority answered yes while a few admitted to lust at first sight and one or two people mentioned an attraction at first sight.   What is attraction? How does it work exactly? How can someone just look your way and feel instant love?  I admit it did happen to me once in my life. My very good friend set me up on a date with a very, bright, young, European man with a very prestigious successful career.   I understand why she thought we would be the perfect pair; he was exactly the kind of man who I would have picked out for myself. So one lovely summer evening my friend and her boyfriend double dated with this very interesting charming man and myself. I even remember what I wore … a new white cotton summer dress with white ruffles. We all had a lovely time. In everyone’s estimation this would have been considered a perfect evening and a very successful first date. At the end of the evening my friend’s boy friend was driving and he dropped off my date in front of his place of business, as my date had a job that often kept him busy at odd hours. The windows of the car were down and before my date left the car a man walked up to the car, (he was a friend of my date), and this fellow stuck his head in the car’s open window.   Smiling, he greeted all of us with a happy hearty, hello, while asking what we were all doing together? He introduced himself to us. The second I looked up at him it was like a bolt of lightning hit me. I can honestly say it was love at first sight. It is a complicated story and we did end up having a strong relationship. I won’t go into the whole story but for me it was absolutely love at first sight. How does this happen? Do we have an image somewhere in the back of our minds that comes to the forefront when we meet that certain someone? Is it Kismet? When this instant attraction occurs how do we know we will like everything that goes with this instant feeling?  The truth is that I knew immediately I would like everything about him just listening to his first hello. Yes, just like in the movie … “he had me at hello.”

  Isn’t this a marvelous mystery? How does attraction work? Don’t you know people who really are deeply in love and you look at them and you think to yourself, “What on earth does he see in her?” Hasn’t everyone know a couple that absolutely seem wrong for each other and yet this man or this woman sees something in their partner that no one else can see. Isn’t that grand?

  There has been several times in life that perhaps you have felt an attraction to someone when first meeting him or her. Usually, we are attracted to someone’s look or to his or her general appearance. When getting to know them this feeling grows, sometimes into love. Then there are people you meet who are very attractive however, as time goes on and you get to know them they become less and less attractive. How does this attraction thing work? How does it come about? I can remember even as a small child I had must have had an image of someone I liked. My parents had a very nice single, cute, friend. This man came over to our home quite often. He was very clever, very funny and well, just a likeable man. I loved being around him. He had dark hair and glasses. When he got married and I was a little girl at the time, maybe just four years old. I remember feeling jealous of his wife. Years later as an adult I met him with his wife at a party my father was hosting.  I still liked him and enjoyed our conversation.   I realized at that moment that my boyfriend, at the time, actually reminded me of this man, from my childhood. Is that why I was dating my boyfriend who BTW was quite a bit older? Was it because he looked like the friend of my parents?   Somehow I had a male image and was trying to copy this image, as an adult?

  A few years ago my very good friend and I were discussing the mystery of attraction. There was a man who was very interested in me which really came as a huge shock to me. After hitting the grand old age of 55 I actually thought that any attraction for anyone and any person’s attraction to me was officially over. Never even considered the prospect of a relationship. A tall, young, handsome man was flirting with me. Why me? How could this man be interested in me? My friend talking about attraction said, “Don’t you know a person’s looks has nothing to do with it?” Is that true? Is it something else? Is it chemistry?

  My “was-husband” always told the same story about our meeting. I was in Monaco, my friend was a tour guide on a gambling junket and she chose me as her helper because I spoke French and understood a bit of Italian. We were having Champagne at the bar in Lowes Hotel. I was standing with my back to my future husband. I remember that I was wearing a beige silk blouse with pearl buttons down the back. It had a high neck with a ruffle around the neck. I was wearing a long mid-length skirt. My hair was a bit below my shoulders. My husband’s friend knew my friend from a previous junket. My husband asked to be introduced to me. My ‘was-band” still tells people that he fell instantly in love with the back of my head. He asked me to marry him on our second meeting.

  Just yesterday, I was shopping in my local grocery store. Unfortunately, as a single woman who moved to the big city just one year ago and the fact that I work out of my apartment, the only people I tend to meet are in the grocery store.   A nice looking man gave me a surprised glance. You know that glance, it is maybe more than just a glance, and it lasts a bit longer than a normal glance. I noticed him noticing me a few more times. Next, we were both standing in front of the vegetable section and we were both about to grab the same head of lettuce. He took it and handed it to me and smiled. He asked me if I chose it because it was the smallest … I said, yes. (the thing is, a head of lettuce is $.99, it doesn’t matter how big or small it is … it is still 99 cents) He said that is why he was going to pick that one up too. So, I thought to myself, we are both single. Was there an attraction there? I think so, or at least, I would like to think so. Guess it isn’t over until it’s over. There is someone else I am attracted to, however,  I’m going to keep that a mystery.  Thank Goodness, the mystery continues.

  Until Next Week…

   

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• A Life of Opposites

  Posted at 10:03 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on August 2, 2018

   

  In the last week because of two small comments that were causally expressed by two men friends of mine, I have once again become aware that my life is a life of opposites. When I was a very young child I was serious and worried about everything from possible bad luck in my future to my own death. Strange behavior for a child who lived in a pretty normal home with a traditional mother who was a stay at home mom and a father who worked hard and paid the bills. I had two happy, healthy, pretty, popular, sisters, both of whom became cheerleaders. Both of my sisters cruised through school. My youngest sister was elected Homecoming Queen. School for me was just something to be endured. I really liked all of my friends and I liked weekends and vacations and holidays. However, couldn’t hide the fact that I was opposite from the rest of my family.

  As I have mentioned in past posts, I only had about four dates in high school however, Frankie Valli (the lead singer in the group called “The Four Seasons”) saw me through a glass partition at the largest radio station in Chicago where a friend of mine and I were there to pick up a gift that I had won from some radio contest. I was fourteen years old and Frankie Valli came out to meet me. He proceeded to introduce me to Martha, from the group, Martha and the Vandellas, after which, he asked me to be his date to a party that same night in downtown Chicago. I WAS 14 YEARS OLD AND HAD ONLY BEEN ON ONE DATE in my life. I didn’t go out with him.  Are you starting to get the message?   My life is a life of opposites. Now, let’s go a bit forward into my future.  I am in my third year of high school and I am still a wallflower, when I am invited to Hugh Heffner’s mansion to a few parties. Do I have any boyfriends in high school? No, but I meet a married man who is a friend of my parent’s friends and who is semi famous and he asks me out. My mother found out about this and sent my father along with us. That was the end of that possible affair. Still not one boy in high school is interested in me. My life of opposites is begining. 

  In college I go to a small college in Iowa for my first two years. Who do I meet in a small town in Iowa but a large group of kids from New York and Long Island?  Next, who becomes my best friend at this little Iowa University, the daughter of an important boss from one of the mob families in New York? My friends form a group and we call ourselves “The New Yorkers” even though I am from Chicago, I am welcomed into the group.   The only boy I kiss in at this University (who is one of the leaders of our group) I later suspect was dropped into our college by our government to watch the kids of the New York mob. Are you starting to see how my life is a life of opposites? After this young man breaks my heart. I leave Iowa and where do I go next? Paris, France, where else? From Iowa to France, opposites.

  In Paris I make friends with a group of very interesting friends but once again I really didn’t date the kids in my college. No, however, a wealthy, older business owner flies in to Paris to see me quite often and he invites me out to lovely, exciting, fabulous, spots. When I go to Spain for a spring break trip with my roommate I meet a much older, married, Spanish, doctor from Chicago. After seeing me in a store and talking to me for a short time, he offers to set me up in an apartment as his mistress and he will pay me money every year. If we have any children he will pay for them to go through college. He will go to his lawyer and make a contract that we both will sign. When he gets back to Chicago he finds my number and calls my mother to explain his whole plan. By the way, this wasn’t a joke, he meant it. My mother thought it was very funny. I didn’t even date him. This was all after short conversation. Do I have a normal boyfriend like a normal college girl?  NO, that would be too normal. It’s sit at home and read for weeks on end by myself or become a mistress to a wealthy, famous, married, doctor. Opposites. Instead, I just sat by myself and read a lot of books.

  The next year I am in London, England. I spent two years in London and not one English person asked me out. A very nice young man from South America who was a student at my college and I assumed from his lifestyle and conversation that he was possibly a wealthy male prostitute, became my friend.   He asked me out and we went to some wonderful parties and to private screenings of movies.  A man who is the leader of a small country asks me out a few times while I was studying in London. I met a prince or two and one King. I took a trip to the Soviet Union on another spring break and met a man who would become the best friend of my life, however, not one student asked me out in my two years in London. I studied, talked to a few friends, studied more and took dance class at Covent Garden. So my life has been both boring and exciting … no in-between. A life of Opposites.

  Luckily I have stayed in the very best hotels in the world, been to the best restaurants. Driven in the best cars. Had a limousine driver walk behind me at Harrods in London to carry my bags. Still, I took buses and the Tube in London the Metro in Paris however, there were years I had to walk a lot when there wasn’t money for a bus or a taxi. Been known to struggle and work very hard for many years. Had to scrimp and save. For years I got up at 5 A.M. and worked to 10 P.M. at a few thankless jobs. Often had to wear the same shoes and clothes until they wore out. Sold shoes and sold fine jewelry at Macy’s. I also worked with my “was-band” in his perfume company and was told by perfume executives that I was a genius in the design and marketing of many perfume and cosmetics. I was on a yacht with multimillionaires and sat all afternoon talking with Jackie Onassis’s last boyfriend. (BTW he was very nice.) Once, in my 50’s an alcoholic real estate boss fired me for folding letters and placing these letters into their envelopes improperly. In other words, it has been a life of opposites. Really the best of times and sometimes the worst of times, to paraphrase Charles Dickens. Sorry Charles.

  Almost every man I have dated in my life has been the complete opposite of me. When I met my “was-band” he was a French racecar driver. I spent many years hanging on for dear life while my husband raced on tiny roads around the mountains in Europe at 100 miles an hour. Me? I drive the speed limit or 5 to 10 miles over the limit if it is sunny and I have two spaces between the next car and myself.   To this day if anyone is interested in me or visa versa and if we are total opposites in every way, well, let’s say my interest perks up immediately. Maybe, just maybe being opposites makes romance a bit more fun?

  Maybe these opposites in my life have made a fuller life?   Could it be that I have been lucky to see both sides of life? Maybe I have had to learn how hard life can be, to be able to see how wonderful life can be, to appreciate being alive?

  As a young child I was really very serious and afraid of death. Now, I’m opposite. As a senior, I try to see the happy, silly side of life and the oddly funny side of life. I learned a big lesson about death … death isn’t hard; it’s living that can really be hard. Now, I am opposite to that child from my past.

  Until Next Week…

   

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• Let’s Talk About Sex!

  Posted at 9:36 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on July 26, 2018

   

  This morning someone sent me an article from a well-respected journal on the difference between a fetish and kink. There were quotes from several sex experts one (who goes by the moniker)“Dirty Lola”’.   This brought a smile to my face before I had even rubbed the sleep from my eyes and made my first cup of coffee. You see, I am sixty-six and on August 3^rd I will be sixty-six and a half and I am the author of a weekly blog that has sex in the title. This fact is funny, shocking and totally surprising to me. Who knew that I would be writing a weekly blog with sex in the title in my sixties, me, the girl who sang in the choir at church and never missed a Sunday at Sunday school? I was a Brownie and a Girl Scout. I played the Virgin Mary at church one year for our church’s Christmas service. I went to a religious summer camp. One of my best friends’ was the daughter of my minister. I babysat the small children of his replacement.   One of my good friends from high school lived directly across the street from my house and she told me that she saw me late at night sitting in a car with my boyfriend for hours before entering my front door. I didn’t want to ruin my reputation… I wasn’t in the car with my boyfriend. I was talking to my minister who had dropped me back to my home after babysitting his children. He was asking me questions about the race problems in our local high school and what I thought could be done to calm the situation and to help stop racial violence. Here is the sad fact of my teen years. When I entered college I had been kissed a total of six times, despite, the fact that I had met a lot of famous people, had traveled quite a bit, and I was considered to be somewhat attractive and I had been to two of Hugh Hefner’s infamous wild parties. Clint Eastwood had asked Hugh Hefner to invite me to a movie party at the mansion as his date. I didn’t go I had to go to high school the next day. Despite all of this, I was sickening sweet and this continued for most of my life.

  This is why I am so thrilled, in some circles, at this point in my life, to be considered, a “sex expert”. I LOVE IT! AT LAST IN MY TOO SWEET, TOO, TWO GOODIE TWO SHOES’ LIFE … I AM NOW A SEX EXPERT!

  Men and women now often tell me about their sex lives, the good, the bad and the non-existent. First, it probably is because I write a blog with sex in the title. Second, it is because I am 66 years old and yes, I have seen a lot of life. Third, I am well read, therefore, even if I haven’t experienced something, I have probably read about it. Fourth, I am empathetic. Life is difficult and I really don’t judge people. Listen, as Frank Sinatra once said in an interview, “Everything is okay if it get’s you through the night”. (My mother loved that Frank Sinatra phrase) Some people are having a lot of sex after sixty. Some are hoping for it. Some men and women are really enjoying their partners sexually. Some are involved with “friends with benefits” and get this …. more than once a week! Lots of people are deeply involved with erotica. Men in their 70’s enjoy sex and are planning on continuing their sex lives as they enter their 80’s. WOW this is interesting news. This makes me so proud that some of you have given me the privilege of learning about these special parts of your lives.

  Remember how people used to say, “Life begins at 40?” Maybe times have changed? Maybe now because we living to be older and a lot of us are still relatively healthy, maybe now, maybe life begins at 60? Sex needn’t be over at sixty. Personally, I keep learning new things from all of you, my readers. I was afraid that life wouldn’t be as interesting in my senior years. Thanks to all of you it just keeps getting better and better and so very interesting. We are starting new careers. We are going back to finding our bliss. We are enjoying our family and our friends and yes, a lot of you are really enjoying sex in your 60’s and beyond.

  Please keep writing me and sending me messages and telling me your secrets, your hopes, your wishes and your dreams. Tell me your problems and let me know what you want me to write about in the future. Ask me questions.   Most of all thank you for reading my posts. So there is a lot to look forward to in our futures. Keep planning those romantic dinners, keep lighting those candles and keep that Champagne on ice. I might be over for dinner one of these days.

  Until, next week …

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• The Good, the Bad and the Ugly of Aging

  Posted at 7:30 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on July 19, 2018

   

  There is an adjustment we all must make when we face 60 and counting. When I had to face the disheartening fact that my 60^th birthday had come and gone I was in shock. Deep depressing life altering awareness that I too was entering the realm of OLD AGE!!!! If you have been reading my weekly blog you know that this has been a recurring theme of my blog. Now that I’m 66 things haven’t changed that much. I am still in shock and looking at ads on TV or in magazines that mention men and women over 60 needing necklaces around their necks in case they fall and can’t get up or bath tubs that you have to sit in because showers are too dangerous or caretakers that come to your house because your kids are too busy to come by to check on you. These ads are for old people right? I haven’t changed. When I hear about an old man or woman of 60 plus years that has gone missing. I still think to myself … oh, poor old woman, she is so old she has lost her way. It takes me a minute or two to remember that I am older than this old lost woman. In my mind I still have time and potential to do all kinds of things that I used to do. I guess it is too late to be a prima ballerina, but you know there are a few things we can still do. Flirt, sure, of course, I can flirt. Sing and dance while driving down the street, absolutely. Still occasionally I catch myself (while dancing to a new tune, on the radio) and I realize that holy moly, I’m old. There is less time, and less energy. I occasionally get a pain here or there and this reminds me that hells bells, I’m aging!

  The Good  Yes, there are a lot of good things about aging. People have been right all along about getting older and acquiring wisdom. It’s true; just by surviving you acquire knowledge. Yesterday, I had to help my twenty-one year old son maneuver the difficulties of setting up a payment schedule with a hospital for a small procedure that he will need to address. (He dislocated a finger and he needs surgery. He swung on a rope and landed too hard onto the surface of the river.) He suggested that I couldn’t negotiate and get a better deal than he managed previously. I told him that I have been in a hospital before and I know my way around payment plans. Well, I made several phone calls and guess what? I got him a better payment plan.   In almost every part of life the wisdom that comes with age is a huge plus.

  For women or is it just me? The very, very, best part of aging for me was menopause. Thank you nature, for finally stopping the monthly migraine headaches, the stomach cramps, no more birth control pills or paraphernalia that accompanies birth control. Knock wood, I feel pretty great most of the time since that monthly visitor has hit the road.

  And LOVE; well there isn’t a chance of hearing the pattering of a new set of babies’ feet coming into the bedroom unless it is someone’s grandchild staying overnight for a visit. The best part of love… let’s say you meet that one great love of your life in your sixties or beyond, then just like the song that Maurice Chevalier sang in Gigi, “And even if love comes through the door. The kind that goes on forever more, forever more is shorter than before. Oh, I am glad that I’m not young anymore.” Love might be sweeter since we realize how fast time flies by.

  The Bad. It is hard for some people to stay positive while aging. I understand this problem. We have seen trouble. We have experienced sadness and loss. If you are over 60 you might have health issues or perhaps your spouse is ill. This is a trial that must be faced. It is hard to stay positive when you or a loved one is in pain.

  There is also the grumpy old man or grumpy old woman syndrome that seems to be a prevalent affliction in some older people. Are you too quick to lose your temper? Is it hard to see the humor in life? Maybe take a breath and smell the roses. Is it worth it to be upset or angry over little things? Look in the mirror maybe it isn’t everyone else. Maybe it’s you.  Remember the old saying during the hippie era? “Make love not war.”

  The Ugly. Life is hard, it’s true, and there isn’t any other way to say this. As we age we get a little slower, we look at ourselves in the mirror and see a person we don’t fully recognize. If we keep on living we lose everyone around us that we love. Family, friends, pets everyone. All of the things we knew and were comfortable with disappear with time. In the end we must face our own end. Not easy. None of this is easy. Sometimes the losses are devastating.

  Except, have you noticed? We already have faced a lot of these hardships and we are all still here. Chances are we might all be around for a few more decades. Maybe we are all stronger than we knew? I had a very good friend that was in her 80’s when I was in my 20’s and she told me that her secret to aging and aging well was to keep making younger friends. She also told me to keep being curious and to keep your desire for learning. Be interested in other people. Don’t dwell on the past. Be interested in the future. Don’t talk about your aches and pains. Be cheerful. Don’t get upset over little things.

  My advice is to smile, sing and dance while you are driving and listening to your favorite tunes. Watch old movies with a large martini close at hand and a bowl of buttered popcorn. Flirting is a must. Write a blog with sex in the title. Is something upsetting you? Put an ice-cold bottle of sparkling wine in the fridge and order some take out. Works for me.

  Until Next Week…

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• What Might Have Been

  Posted at 7:54 pm by istheresexaftersixty, on July 12, 2018

   

  “For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, ’It might have been’.”

  John Greenleaf Whittier

  There is a real condition from which a substantial amount of men and women who have reached the age of 60 or over, have been known to suffer. This is perfectly understandable. I have talked about this in the past. The only way we have reached this age is usually because we have kept our eyes open. We have seen the pit falls of others mistakes. “LOOK OUT!” WATCH OUT” “DON’T SMOKE” “SLOW DOWN” “WEAR YOUR SEATBELT” “DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE” “WATCH OUT FOR FALLING ROCKS” “DEER CROSSING” “DON’T FEED THE ANIMALS” “STAY SEATED UNTIL THE PLANE COMES TO A COMPETE STOP” “FASTEN YOUR SEATBELTS” “DON’T MOVE AROUND IN THE CABIN UNTIL THE GREEN LIGHT GOES ON” “HAZARD” “READ THE DIRECTIONS CARFULLY BEFORE USE” “LIVE WIRES”

  Okay we get it. WE GET IT! We have to watch out all of the time to stay alive and to stay safe and when we aren’t worrying about ourselves we are worrying about everyone else and this includes, family, friends and pets… even strangers. I worry about the friends on Facebook and their families. I spent the last few weeks worrying about the fires where my son lives and the little boys on a soccer team stuck in a cave in the dark on the other side of the world. We learn to be careful in everything we do. The trouble is sometimes as we age we have seen so much danger and hardships that we forget to step out of our cocoon.   After sixty this gets harder and harder to do. So frankly, this is one other thing to worry about. If we are too set in our ways or too comfortable or too careful we are liable to miss a lot of great things going on that might make our lives into something really wonderful. We might just miss life while we are trying to stay alive.

  In the past, I was really afraid of everything but there was always something in my inner soul that would force me to push myself to do things that were not easy for me to do. I would force myself to take a running leap and jump off that cliff. I might make it and really have a great adventure or I might jump and fall flat on my fanny and have a terrible black and blue mark that would mark me for life. Unfortunately, that’s life. If we don’t take those chances we might not really have a life that is worth living.

  Looking back on my life I truly only regret the things that I didn’t do. The chance I didn’t take. The thing I didn’t say. The trip I didn’t take. The question I was too afraid to ask. The fling I could have had flung, but was too afraid of the consequence. WHY? I was afraid of what??? Getting hurt?? I got hurt anyway? Being embarrassed???   I’ve been embarrassed anyway. Looking foolish? I’ve looked foolish anyway. Losing your heart? I lost it anyway.

  If you are sixty you are either at the end or near the end of your life or, let’s give us the very best scenario and say you live to be 100.   This is still the last part of your life. What are you waiting for anyway? See that woman over there? She is nice and fun to talk to and she is nice looking. Are you single? Listen guys, why not ask her out? If she says no, what difference does it make? You tried … don’t stop there … try again if you see someone else that you kind of like next week. Someone might just say yes and you might have the time of your life? Who knows? Take that leap. Let’s not be so careful that we miss out on the new possibilities. It’s not over yet.

  Ladies, every-once-in-awhile say, “YES” What if he might be worth your interest? Why miss out? There is still time. Not as much time as there was before, which means … what in the world are you waiting for? We all know what is ahead of us, so for heavens sake, take a few chances.

  Make that move. Go on that trip. Take that class. Get another degree. Learn French. Ask her out. Say yes. Buy a new outfit. Buy a new car. Pucker up and give him a big kiss. Adopt a pet. Paint that picture. Take dancing lessons. Another words try a new way of looking at things.   Now is the time to throw being “too careful” away.  Time is flying.  So, GO FOR IT.  SAY ‘NO!’ TO WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.  Make it happen, NOW!

  Until Next Week…

  Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

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