Accordiing to the experts, from the moment we are born we begin to age. Female or male, it’s all the same. Time marches on and with it your youth, good looks, vitality, passion, etc., etc., etc. Zip, you move from child to young adult. Whosh, on to adulthood and bam, you land smack dab into middle age. And if you get really lucky that’s where it stops. Didn’t Jack Benny do it? He got to 39 and that’s where he stayed.
Of course he was a man and as every woman knows when it comes to aging, men aren’t subject to the same rules of nature. After all their genetically thicker skin has not only gifted them with the ability to tune out all but their own emotional needs it has also made it possible for them to avoid most of the wrinkles and sagging that makes a 70 year old woman look like her 70 year old husband’s 100 year old mother. And yes that smooth-faced old man is probably sporting a ten month pregnant-sized gut but if he’s hidden the majority of his assets from his wife’s prying lawyer’s eyes then he’ll have no problem hooking up (although he may no longer be able to get it up) with a babilicious 20 year old with rock hard abs and knockers that are way more than a mouthful, as long as he promises to be her only paying client, which from her standpoint makes good business sense since his wife confided that he’s long out-lived the use it or lose it rule.
But we are not here to talk about men, who for some reason get to become distinguished while the fairer sex generally segue into old biddy with graying bun, tiny dime store spectacles, enormous hanging breasts and thick support hose. And while a well-heeled older woman can just as easily buy herself a streetwalking boy toy of her own, she may be losing her hair but unlike her other half, she has not lost her mind. Deep down she know it’ll take more than one complement for hire to make the supposed golden years more than a black hole of despair sucking every last ounce of her will to live.
So if attaching, like the barnacle he is, to female jailbait is the key to keeping a man from growing old, what then is the key to a woman finding her fountain of youth? On the less tried but I’m really hoping could someday be true side, she could have a portrait painted of herself and then hide it in her closet and hope it ages while she does not. It worked for a guy named Dorian Gray. Or she could pick up where Ponce de Leon left off and finish his journey. But since the former was a fictional character in a novel and no one has gotten any closer to finding Ponce de Leon’s Holy Grail in the past gazillion years, I’m thinking that a little exercise, a few more green veggies and a ton of affirmations will more likely do the trick.
“I am young, thin and beautiful. I am young thin and beautiful, I am young, thin and beautiful.” And if these words begin to grate on a woman’s nerves before her daughter’s boyfriend makes a pass at her, how does she age gracefully? A good plastic surgeon and a lot of lying.