The Divas were having a lively discussion the other night over a good, old-fashioned fondue dinner.  As “women of a certain age,” we seem to find ourselves, often and with increasing frequency, at the very edge of appearing out of touch with the latest fads and trends.  Case in point…fondue???

It’s easy to feel like a dinosaur.  Our children are all too happy to oblige us with frequent eye rolls while they mock our inability to grasp the latest zombie-killing video game or the loudest heavy metal band.  (Hey, the joke’s on them—they’re playing the BEATLES on Guitar Hero, for Pete’s sake. That music is, like, ancient.).  And then there’s the confidence-killing comment just as you are about to bolt out the door for the morning commute: “You’re not wearing that to work, are you?” What? Am I showing too much leg? Did I miss the memo about shoulder pads being passé?

You don’t need children to feel the sting, either. Divas without children also report encountering the intolerance (or worse, overwrought respect) of the young in restaurants, at the doctor’s office, and at work.  As Mary explained, “the expressions young adults use make me realize my age,  both in being embarrassed at my gaffes and in my disapproval of some commonly used terms like bitch and ho.  I realize I sound like a prudish old lady if I suggest the inappropriateness of these commonly used words.” She added, “Just so you know, ‘hipster’ is not a compliment to funky, artistic, alternative types.  I found out after insulting a few ‘cool’ co-workers.  It apparently means poseur.” 

Dawn’s biggest beef about getting old are her eyes.  “This is probably lame but I really feel old that my eyesight is getting worse. I really need a bright light to read things nowadays, rather than when my eyes were only 30 years old.  And it’s hard to distinguish faces unless people are close by.”

Linda said that being offered a seat on the train “usually does it for me……not that I don’t accept the offer!” Other transgressions that irk the Divas include being called “ma’am” by rosy-cheeked wait staff, or being required to address the history teacher as “Mister Jones” when he looks barely older than your 17-year-old high school senior.  We know we look older on the outside. We simply don’t appreciate the reminders, thank you very much.

As Chris put it, “I do not ‘feel’ 53.  I feel 40 or 45.” She grinned and said, “I hope to keep moving and toolin’ until the day I kick up my toes!”

I don’t recall my mother worrying about being out of touch in her 50s. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention, but it seemed to me that that she and her contemporaries (the female half of the “Greatest Generation”) had a much more laid-back approach to getting older. They all seemed to accept the extra pounds and that funny tubular shape so many of them had acquired. Gray hair was normal.  So why are we, their offspring, so resistant to the normal aging process?

When I shared the Divas’ concerns with Kathy, a colleague at the office, she laughed and offered her take on the baby-boomer generation. “We mistrusted anybody over 30, remember?” She explained, “Our generation rigorously embraced youth. We even called it the Youth Movement!  We thought we had the answer to everything. Now, we just can’t fathom that we have become… our parents!” Kathy, who in her 50s has developed a sudden allergy to hair dye, professes to be completely dismayed by the two inches of silver hair that top her brown coif.  “I look in the mirror and wonder, ‘who IS this woman?”  But she is laughing as she says this, and when the brown is completely gone, she is going to look absolutely chic and stunning with that silver hair.  In addition to being engaging, energetic, and healthy, her strongest weapon in the battle against becoming irrelevant is her wicked sense of humor.

Maybe that’s the key. Resistance to aging is NOT futile. We don’t have to give in as easily as our mothers did. We can eat right and we exercise to keep our bones strong (and to keep some semblance of a waistline intact). And we can remember that a finely-tuned sense of humor can help us through the most mortifying reminders of our impending dotage. After all, there are some benefits to being on the far side of 49. Being out of touch can be so… liberating.  Among other things, we don’t have to pretend to like movies about teenage vampires or the D-list celebrities cavorting on Dancing with the Stars. 

I’ll leave you with a toast from the Dining Divas:  Here’s to freedom from the tyranny of being young and hip! (Just don’t call us hipsters, do you hear?)