Judith Viorst - Forever Fifty and Other Negotiations

again, for Milton I dont mind telling my age. I honestly dont mind telling my age. But why are you asking? I dont pretend Im still young. I dont expect to be thought of as young. So why are you asking? I never lie about age. Its undignified to lie about age.

But why are you asking? Were only as old as we feel. You know were only as old as we feel. So why are you asking? Im told I look good for my age. Im often told I look good for my age. Now why are you asking? No, Im not ashamed of my age. And if you insist, Ill tell you my age.

Youre what? Still asking?

S hawn teaches wind-surfing. Dawn is a certified midwife. Kim has converted from atheist to Bahai. Justin has finally fallen in love with a practically perfect person, Except hes a guy. Holly quit teaching first grade to go into arbitrage. Keith runs a health club and Kyles a computer whiz.

Robin, whos on her second divorce and fourth therapist, feels that shes starting To learn who she is. Brandon has dropped out of medical school to write screenplays. Josh has abjured material wealth to do good. Kirsten and Stacy and Maya and Tracy have opted for partnership track Over motherhood. Andrea is a professional acupuncturist. Damians making a killing in real estate.

Tara has already given birth to Rebecca and Joseph and Jacob, And plans to have eight. Kevin has given up socks and acquired two earrings. Devon has given up sweets and eats nothing impure. And so, if you want to know how the children are doing, The answer is, Were not exactly sure.

I went for a walk in the sun without wearing my sunscreen. I went out of town without making a reservation.

I placed my mouth directly upon a public drinking fountain, and took a sip. I didnt bother flossing my teeth before bedtime. I pumped my own gasoline at a self-service station. I ate the deviled egg instead of the cauliflower with low-fat yoghurt dip. I bought, without reading Consumer Reports, a new dryer. I left my checking account unreconciled.

I know that the consequences could be dire, But sometimes a woman simply has to run wild.

I ve been told that the vigorous moving-about of my body Could discourage all ills from loose flesh to a heart attack. But there isnt a fitness routine That strikes me as anything less than obscene, so I float on my back. I respect those brave ladies whore burning their flab off with Fonda. They still wear bikinis. I long ago switched to a sack.

But my horror of thickening thighs Is surpassed by my horror of exercise, so I float on my back. I admire all those stalwarts out jogging in blizzards and heat waves But if I want torture, Id just as soon head for the rack. Let my upper arms droop, I aspire To no exertion that makes me perspire, so I float on my back. And I know that I richly deserve the whole worlds condemnation For the firmness that both my torso and character lack. Yes, my bodys a total disgrace But there is this big happy smile on my face as I float on my back.

O n the way home with my husband from the dinner party, I thought Id very tactfully point out That he shouldnt interrupt, and that He shouldnt talk with his hands, and that He shouldnt, when discussing politics, shout.

And that he shouldnt tell that story while people are eating, and that He shouldnt tell that joke for the rest of his life, and that He shouldnt have said what he said about that terrible lady in red because She happens to be the-person-he-said-it-tos wife. And that he didnt need that second helping of mousse cake, and that He didnt need to finish the Chardonnay. But after thirty years of marriage I finally understand what not to say On the way home with my husband from a dinner party.

I cant figure out if its gas or a coronary. I cant figure out if its hostile or benign. I cant figure out if Im turning into a hypochondriac, or just being sensible.

I cant figure out when we stop supporting our children. (At twenty-one? At thirty? Forty-nine?) I cant figure out if not bothering to change the sheets in the guest room in between houseguests is ever an option, or always reprehensible. I cant figure out why men wont ask for directions. (Is this genetic or could they be retrained?) I cant figure out, when dressed in the height of fashion, if Im looking incredibly chic or slightly ridiculous. I cant figure out if my tale is enthralling or boring. (What are those facial expressions? Spellbound? Or pained?) I cant figure out if wanting all the hangers in my closet to face the same way means Im obsessive-compulsive, or merely meticulous.

I cant figure out if Ive gone from stable to stodgy. (Is reliable what I want as my epitaph?) I cant figure out if helping yourself to a shrimp from your spouses plate ought to be viewed as intimacy or intrusion. I cant figure out if Ive lost my sense of humor Or if, after fifty, it just gets harder to laugh. And I cant figure out if everyone else has figured everything out, or whether we are all in a state of confusion.

I ts hard to be devil-may-care When there are pleats in your derrire And its time to expose what your panty hose are concealing. And although a husbands fond eyes Make certain allowances for your thighs, Young lovers might look less benignly at what youre revealing.

Its hard to surrender to sin While trying to hold your stomach in And hoping your blushers still brightening up your complexion, And hoping he isnt aware As he runs his fingers through your dark hair, That youve grown unmistakably gray in a whole other section. Its hard to experience bliss When sinus intrudes on every kiss And when, in the tricky positions, your back starts to hurt you. And when you add all it entails To teach him what turns you on and what fails, You might want to reconsider the virtues of virtue.

H appiness Is a clean bill of health from the doctor, And the kids shouldnt move back home for more than a year, And not being audited, overdrawn, in Wilkes-Barre, in a lawsuit or in traction. Happiness Is falling asleep without Valium, And having two breasts to put in my brassiere, And not (yet) needing to get my blood pressure lowered, my eyelids raised or a second opinion.