After lots of thunder and lighting plus some wind damage severe thunderstorms Thursday left us wonderful weather in its wake. Clean air, sunny skies and moderate temps in the 50s made me want to play hooky today so bad that I could taste it, but duty calls so off to the slave shop I went.
The drive to work this afternoon was picturesque; too bad I had to make a straight line to the mill instead of meandering up and down the back roads. I wish I had thought to bring my camera and had the time to snap some of the sights on the way. You know which ones; those special moments that capture your eye and intrigue your mind. All too often they pass in a blink and get forgotten in the press of everyday life.
I spent several minutes trailing a vintage horse and buggy driven by an older couple, their white hair gleaming in the sunshine as they leaned their heads together. I swear their tilted bodies and touching foreheads formed a perfect heart-shape just like something on the front of a Hallmark card. You could see the happy pair’s smiles flashing from a mile away as their scarves waved gaily in the breeze. Young love be damned, it looked like these oldsters were doing just fine in their golden years. We should all be so lucky.
A bit farther down the road a youngster on a shiny new ATV (obviously gotten for Christmas) was zigzagging up and down the ditch banks; cutting donuts and slinging dirt all over a much used and abused older trail bike sitting on the side of the road with a “FOR SALE’ sigh on the handle bars. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor trail bike. Old, worn out, unloved and unwanted, discarded and replaced as soon as a newer younger shinier model becomes available. I think there are a lot of us who know the feeling, even if we won’t admit it to anyone but ourselves.
I don’t own a full length mirror. I live and work in jeans and casual shirts in blue-collar industry, so dressing up is a rare occasion. So the other night when I went to get slicked up for a co-worker’s retirement party it came as something of a shock when all my dressier clothes were tighter than I remembered. OK ........ I’m 52 and some of this stuff has been in the closet for years, I can deal with the thicker waist, broader hips and sagging girls. My face is aging well (I guess) and makeup does wonders when I take the time to apply it. After all, age hits us all differently, I have a friend whose body is the same size 4 as when she was young but her face shows her years of chronic sun worship. We all have our flaws; so I take a deep breath, throw on a respectable outfit whose buttons don’t pop over my bulging bosom, paint my face, twirl around and model for my son and the 2 cats who give their approval, and off I go.
It wasn’t so long ago that I had to be careful of appearance and body language at dinners and meetings; my co-workers’ wives considered me a threat just because I was decent looking and had a boobilicious rack. But the other night as I was introduced to the other ladies their eyes glanced at me, slid from my artfully streaked gray hair and down my ample curves. And then dismissed me. I mean they totally looked away and never acknowledged my existence again. Not in words, looks, acts, nothing. They saw an older overly-plump over-the-hill female who wasn’t worth the time of day because she could never interest their men. It seems that if I’m not a threat I’m not worth the time of day. WTF!
These younger (I’m talking 30-something) women spent the night huddled next to their guys shooting glares at each other while I and the few other “matrons” laughed and giggled and wondered what was wrong with the pseudo fem-fatales at the other tables. And it was unanimous; all we “middle-aged ladies” agreed that they didn’t consider us worth anything because we weren’t a threat.
When did women become each other’s worse enemies? And what the hell makes them think that anyone else would want the testosterone-sodden pot-bellied male who shares their bed? What happened to female comradely? Hell, I always have more fun with my girlfriends than with a date; I don’t have to impress the girls; I can eat with my fingers, get slightly tipsy on too much wine, do the funky chichken if I want, and I don’t have to hold my breath so my gut doesn’t pooch out as much when I’m with my buddies.
I just don’t get it. We dismiss each other based on age, weight, shape and if we think someone looks better than us. I thought it was bad enough when men did it to us, but now we’re doing it to ourselves. Girls, this shit has GOT TO STOP!