Wed, Mar 21, 2012 10:22 AM
Daylight savings time is wreaking havoc with my body clock. I
was in a nice routine of waking up 10 minutes before my alarm
chimed at 6 a.m. But since springing forward, I find myself walking
around in a catatonic state until lunch time. My schedule is all
off kilter and my energy level is at an all time low. What confuses
me is that I thought when people reach my age, we naturally started
waking up well before dawn with no need for an alarm clock.
Why hasn't that happened yet?
Let's face it, Baby Boomers are a determined and stubborn bunch. We
simply don't do things "like they have always been done before."
We're different and we changed the rules. We're Boomers - and above
all, we refuse to get old.
Senior ladies have always been affectionately referred to as "blue
hairs." It is the result of a rinse that older women put in their
hair to brighten it once it turned gray or white. But the rinse
often left a bluish tint, hence the nickname. It becomes even more
comical when the shrinking senior continues to drive and often
times, only the tip of her head is visible over the steering
Personally, I fail to see the humor. I guess things like that are
starting to hit too close to home. I can assure you this Boomer is
not going blue. So long as John Frieda, or any of his close
friends, continues to produce dark reddish-brown hair color, the
blue crayon is not going to show up in this coloring box. I am also
not planning to become the incredible shrinking woman. My Aunt
Clara was always petite in stature, but as she aged I think she
lost at least a foot in height. She just kept wearing taller hats
and higher heels. To complete the picture, both her lips and her
nails were painted fire-engine red until the day she died. I will
take Pilates classes seven days a week, if need be, to keep this
torso stretched to its full length. If that doesn't work, I'll put
a pillow on my car seat like my mother did. No matter what, the
steering wheel and I will never be at the same height.
I guess it is the same corrupted internal time clock that has
prevented me from jumping onto the "Early Bird Special" bandwagon.
Saving three dollars on an entrée is not enough to entice me to
force down dinner at the ungodly hour of 4 p.m. Nope, just can't do
it. I want to come home from work, take a walk, sip a glass of wine
and clear my head before I start thinking about dinner. In fact, if
I have enough wine I sometimes don't need dinner at all. Now there
is a savings plan and diet all rolled into one. We Boomers are
clever that way.
Boomers have changed the face of senior citizenship. We are
drinking from the fountain of youth, sipping the liquid all day
from our Nalgene water bottles. We are working out, eating
right and staying on the job long after retirement age - simply
because we want to and we can. We keep plastic surgeons in business
as tummy tucks, facelifts and liposuction have become everyday
operations. We plan on living longer and by golly, we're going to
look good while we do it.
I will adjust to this time change, I always do. Unfortunately it
usually kicks in right before it is time to change the clock back
the other way. The problem may also be compounded by the fact that
I still stay up too late on school nights, stay out too late on the
weekends, and try to accomplish too many tasks in too few
hours. And no matter how old I get, I am also still going to
blast my radio when a good song comes on, dance like a fool when
the music moves me and laugh out loud at a good joke.
I'm going to look old age in the face and stick my tongue out at
saying, "Nanny, nanny, boo, boo". And in honor of Aunt Clara, I'm
going to wear fire-engine red nail polish and lip stick until they
stop making it. For as long as I plan to stay young, I will outlive