Birthday
I turned 47 on Friday. It was a working day for me, and several people there were surprised that I seemed not to mind telling them how old I was. Apparently it's just Not What You Do. Really? Is it considered more seemly to simper coyly and refuse to say, or worse, to pretend the years away and admit to fewer than there are? Apart from being horribly twee, it's all just so much bollocks, and I said so.
However, when I got home I clicked on my profile here, and noticed I hadn't put my age in. Why?
I do remember thinking at the time about whether to include it or not. I decided against it because I didn't want people making assumptions about me based on something so arbitrary. If I'm 47 I must listen to a certain type of music, enjoy specific television programmes, be a little lumpy around the bottom perhaps, be totally absorbed by family and domestic life, and probably have quite static and conservative opinions and beliefs.
Of course there's always the Cosmo angle if I prefer to adopt it - women hit their sexual peak in their 40's (what - so I've only got three more years then it's all downhill?), we are secure, confident, happy in our gym-taut skins and slurping our organic skinny-lattes. Young lovers are our right and we perform a community service by initiating them into the true art of lovemaking.
NeanS was writing about sterotypes the other day. She's right - they can be dangerous things. One of the nicest things about this bloggy world is the interaction I see between people of different ages. It's about like-minded or complementary souls, not numbers. That's how the best "real life" relationships are, too.
So, whether I choose to croon gently along to Rod Stewart's attempts to recapture the era of the big bands while sorting serenely through the ironing and lovingly polishing my kitchen surfaces, or load Powderfinger into my iPod while my toyboy lies on the bed beside me waiting impatiently for me to teach him All, I will be myself, at whatever age that happens to be at any given moment.
Mind you, I'm not sure which of these is the least likely.
I do like Powderfinger though.
However, when I got home I clicked on my profile here, and noticed I hadn't put my age in. Why?
I do remember thinking at the time about whether to include it or not. I decided against it because I didn't want people making assumptions about me based on something so arbitrary. If I'm 47 I must listen to a certain type of music, enjoy specific television programmes, be a little lumpy around the bottom perhaps, be totally absorbed by family and domestic life, and probably have quite static and conservative opinions and beliefs.
Of course there's always the Cosmo angle if I prefer to adopt it - women hit their sexual peak in their 40's (what - so I've only got three more years then it's all downhill?), we are secure, confident, happy in our gym-taut skins and slurping our organic skinny-lattes. Young lovers are our right and we perform a community service by initiating them into the true art of lovemaking.
NeanS was writing about sterotypes the other day. She's right - they can be dangerous things. One of the nicest things about this bloggy world is the interaction I see between people of different ages. It's about like-minded or complementary souls, not numbers. That's how the best "real life" relationships are, too.
So, whether I choose to croon gently along to Rod Stewart's attempts to recapture the era of the big bands while sorting serenely through the ironing and lovingly polishing my kitchen surfaces, or load Powderfinger into my iPod while my toyboy lies on the bed beside me waiting impatiently for me to teach him All, I will be myself, at whatever age that happens to be at any given moment.
Mind you, I'm not sure which of these is the least likely.
I do like Powderfinger though.
posted by MargieCM at 11:51 am
17 Comments:
Ha! I just re-read that last bit and it sounds as if I've got Rod Stewart doing the housework.
Frankly, I'd rather put up with the mess.
Oh no!
Please do get Rod to do the housework...or anybody else who will, for that matter!
The older we get the better we are!
Yes there's the laundry, the ironing, the lunches to make, the clothes to mend, the counters to polish, the hearth to sweep, the beds to make, the... well you know.
...and I love AC/DC.
I take your point, dale, but no, I can't do it. I have this apalling image of Rod in tight satin pants mincing around doing the hoovering. Sorry, but it just doesn't work for me.
As for AC/DC, I think Angus would be far more likely to add to the mess, and I can do that myself. Besides, it'd just be one more bloody school uniform to pick up!
LOL I think no matter who we invite it, they're likely to make a mess!
It's just that there are some I'd rather have make the mess than others...
Oh and Happy Birthday, Margie!
:)
Dale
Happy Birthday for last week!!! But OOh, Margie..let me dream!
I'm 51 now and feel not just as young, but indeed sharper than I ever felt at 21 or even 31! My offspring have left my nest now, and I shamelessly miss them openly. Not that I'm the clingy type mum...my daughters wouldn't hesitate to tell you that I'm more sentimental over my dog than I am over them, but I wish I could see them more often, especially the one in South Africa.
Anyway, on the important subject of Who should do the housework ;-), I wouldn't say no to Chris Martin of Coldplay...sounds as if he's quite well house trained too! Or their guitarist whose name escapes me at the mo....don't know what I could teach them, though...how to 'spoon' perhaps?...lol....I've forgotten the rest...;-)
AE
Angus makes my short list...
Pete my tall one...
LOL
Well, that's interesting. The two things you've picked up on here are sex and housework. Not an obvious combination perhaps, but if that's how it's going to be ...
Val, I don't really care who does the housework, as long as it doesn't have to be me. (Alas, it usually does). However, I can't say I fanatasise about any of my personal favourites doing it either. I wouldn't waste talent and a good mind on cleaning the lavatory. I'd sit in the middle of a companionable mess with my Chosen One and a glass of wine or two and probably bore him witless.
Who would I choose? Stephen Fry or Pete Townshend would do nicely (and see? It's not all about sex and music - SF is gay and tone deaf). I would happily stare at Colin Firth, but have only seen him interviewed once or twice, so have no idea how interesting he really is or isn't. For pure decoration I would have Johnny Depp (a truly beautiful face, and those eyes!), but again I know little of him, so that might have its limitations too. Sorry, Dale, but Angus Young would not be on my shortlist, though I love the fact that he'd be on yours. George Harrison might have been. Nice, gentle, thoughtful man. I will keep a couple of other more lascivious choices to myself.
As for you , Anguselvis - I had no idea I was soliciting such intimacies, but I'm grateful for your comments. I've no doubt the energy levels of a nineteen-year-old are enviable, but I agree that age and experience generally brings more important things. (Except to slow learners).
Rambling again. Anyway, on reflection I have decided I will not waste my fantasies on putting guitarists (of any age) in frilly aprons, but will save them both for, um, better things.
Happy birthday, Margie!
I think the only image of a rock star I have doing housework, unfortunately, is Freddie Mercury hoovering to "I Want to Break Free." Nothing like a moustache and fake boobs. :)
Colin Firth is rop dead handsome, and according to a stewardess on the BA flight from Paris to London in July, very polite and charming.
Johnny Depp is quite the thinker, from all the interviews I've read. The only strike against him, I think, is that he dated the ever-vapid Kate Moss.
I think at our age, we should get the housework done together, as quickly as possible but well done, so that we can get between the freshly laundered sheets. Of course, I am the one who yelled to my now ex-husband as he left me when I was 34: "When I'm 40 and turned into a ravenous sex machine, you'll be sorry, you'll see!" (To which he quite politely replied, "Well, that will probably be true, but I'm leaving anyway.")
Still more than 6 of those good years left...
-AM
Haha! Anne-Marie, I'd forgotten that video clip with the beauteous Freddie running the hoover over the Axminster. I agree, it's not an image to treasure though.
As for the rest, I trust your husband has come to regret his decision, and hope that you have not!
Happy belated birthday!
Thanks so much for stopping by and checking out the pictures. Tonight was a dream come true. Meeting Rachel was cool enough...I never thought I would get to meet Pete. He was so incredibly sweet!
I'm only getting to sleep now at 5am! Nuts! --- Hey, are you going to the Joe's Pub gig?
margie. how the devil are you? happy belated bithday. You have joined me at the ripe, 47-year-old age.
I dont get it when people hide their true age away. just makes them sound a bit shallow. Did you know that Dale is knocking on for 60 this year? She wont admit it but tis true!
Sarah Beth - I wish!!! Alas, I am far away in Melbourne (that's Melbourne Australia, not Melbourne Florida), and that's just stretching the logistics a tad at the moment. I am therefore reduced to enjoying others' accounts of the U.S. tour - so please remember I'm relying on you for my vicarious pleasure!
Delbut, I am moderately well, thank you for asking, which is more than you will be if Dale reads your comment! I'm glad at least that I've given you one less excuse to find me shallow. Thanks for visiting!
You're on Delbut...
Oops, I am late. But happy birthday! I can understand your decision originally to not tell your age in the blogger profile. I originally did not have a photo of myself (I only put it in the profile after TBWHM had run for a good while) for the same reason: I did not want people to form conclusions on what I'm like based on what I look like.
Glancing at the early comments...Rod mincing around in satin pants doing the hoovering? Run away! Run away!
Cosmo angle? Run away! Run away! What I don't like about magazines like Cosmo is that they market a certain lifestyle which is supposed to be the key to success, good life etc. And then they market themselves as the ONLY instance that can provide and guide in such a lifestyle. I.e. to tie people. All for the business.
Maria
...my brother lives in Perth, way across the country from you, but closer to you than I...
I'll have to get down and under one of these days.
ah dale now i see why you have 60 on your profile that dastrdly delbut!!!...age is a bureaucratic invention...we are as old as our spirit..which is ageless...happy be-be-be-lated birthday margie..x...
Thanks All, much appreciated.
Maria, I agree with your views on Cosmo - and its ilk. Such magazines also set up unrealistic and fatuous exectations for women, and do a great deal of damage to younger girls in particular - all in the name of the dollar. I especially dislike the ones that have "hard hitting" articles on the incidence of eating disorders, then you turn the page to see pictures of celebs who are being gleefully outed as slightly overweight. Mmmm.
Dale, my m-in-law lives in Fremantle near Perth, but as you say, it's pretty much as far away from Melbourne as you can get on the same continent. It's quicker to fly to Indonesia. Yes, you should visit, but not Western Australia in in full Summer. Too hot by far.
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