Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts

Friday, September 11, 2020

Today is my 57th birthday.

 


Today is my 57th birthday. I tend to celebrate birthdays by making observations of the previous year, and this time is no different:

  • I don't feel 57. I have the heart of a thirty-year-old. Unfortunately, I have the face and body of a 57-year-old.
  • Writing-wise:
    • I still have room to improve especially cover letters.
    • I have options: I can self-publish if I want.
  • World events:
    • I knew we were going to have a pandemic; I didn't count on being this emotionally settled with it.
    • It truly seems as if the world I had grown up with: women's rights, minority rights, gay rights -- in other words, true equality -- is crumbling. I need to find the right way to fight.
  • Personal life
    • I broke a curse that I had lived with all my life. I can't explain it all here, but the situation had all of the hallmarks of a curse. End result: I accept that I am loveable as I am.
    • It's really not bad being in one's fifties -- It makes me nervous that I'm closer to 60 than 50, and I can't believe my high school graduation was almost 40 years ago. 
    • I'm on a pretty even keel emotions wise, for which I am grateful.
In-between the disruption of COVID and the crimes of this political administration, beyond feeling overwhelmed by the changes in the world, the little crumbs of life are good -- laughing with my husband, playing with Chloe the kitten, watching Poirot, interacting with students (as strange as it is with small classrooms and Zoom meetings).

Tonight I will go to dinner at William Coy's with my husband and contemplate how I can make next year a better one.

Wednesday, September 11, 2019

Happy 56th birthday to me

Today I'm 56 years old.

This is not me. This is Belvedere the kitten, who's 4 days old


For you younger people out there -- time just chugs along and you hardly notice it until you get to one of those milestone years -- 40, 50, 55. You're too fixated on things like careers and children to wake up and think, "wow, I'm getting older." 

The grey hairs, the wrinkles, the thickening of the body come gradually, until you look in the mirror and see someone who looks older than you remember being. 

You don't even notice that the cultural touchstones -- the music stars, the memes and jokes -- flow and change around you, and you wake up one morning to find that the younger people around you don't get your jokes anymore. 

But you've survived so much!  Everyday events that would panic you before -- a flat tire, sleeping through the alarm -- you now handle with aplomb. Your fears that you can't handle crises have been proven wrong time after time. 

And you have stories to tell. Middle age (late middle-age?) is a great time to start writing. Or find friends who like to tell stories and swap them. 

When you're older, you have the perspective of years, and that is your gift to the world.

Monday, September 11, 2017

Age as a symbolic construct: An iconoclast speaks

Today, I've chosen to talk about age as a symbolic construct in writing for two reasons:

1) I just watched the 35th anniversary directors' cut of Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan yesterday. One of the running themes of this movie is aging, as experienced by the protagonist, Admiral James Kirk.

2) Today's my birthday.

Aging symbolizes many themes and issues in writing. I won't speak of absolutes here, but trends in what aging means in writing -- and in society. I will illustrate with movies, because movies are fresh in my mind and they owe much of their genius (or lack thereof) to screenwriters:

 -- Mortality. In Wrath of Khan, James T. Kirk has been promoted to a desk job as Admiral. He can't see as well as he used to and needs reading glasses. He collects antiques -- in fact, he feels he himself as an antique until he becomes involved in a battle to the death with a brutal, yet also aging, nemesis.

-- Agency. Armande Voisin, the curmudgeonly old woman in the movie Chocolat, has diabetes at a time when control of the disease was not as possible as it is now. Her daughter fusses over her, scolding Armande about what she eats. chiding her not to exert herself, and other well-meant but controlling acts. No spoilers here, but Armande finally wrests agency from her daughter in a delightful but shocking way.

-- Attractiveness. According to the movies, we consider men more handsome when they're older -- Sean Connery as James Bond comes to mind. This may have something to do with the instrumental expectations of accomplishment expected from men, because older men outside of the spy industry (see Raging Bull) aren't lauded for their attractiveness.

We consider women less attractive as they're older -- we find women in their thirties and forties who want to express their desirability to be suspect, and we term them "cougars" -- the classic example of a cougar is Mrs. Robinson from The Graduate, who is portrayed as predatory and desperate. Women are expected to be sexless after a certain age, which is why Harold and Maude horrified so many people -- an 80-year-old woman in a possibly sexual relationship with a much younger man -- a boy, even?

I like to play with age in my stories, just as I like to send up other conventions of culture. In one of my stories, a seventy-five-year-old man becomes a shaman as a result of his totem chasing him halfway across the state. It's never too late to make a change in your life, right? People will receive this as a heartwarming twist.

On the other hand, in my first book (currently under re-re-editing), a fifty-year-old woman falls in love with a 20-year-old man and vice versa. This is not idle wish fulfillment on my part for those of you who notice I fit in the woman's age demographic; I wrote it because I wanted to play with the concept -- what if the woman holds back because she's afraid of being considered a cougar, and what if the man was the pursuer? In other words, not The Graduate? Even as I write this, I feel like I have to apologize about this, because I'm afraid you're thinking  "I can handle a semi-sentient vine and a woman with a plant superpower, but a twenty-year-old dating a woman three times his age?! That's not believeable."  Magic is magic, and if it takes magic to elevate the status of older women, I'm willing to do the job -- even if that novel never gets published.

So, I'm another year older, and I forgot the one other bit of symbolism that comes with age, and that is wisdom. Think Spock in the progression of Star Trek movies (old universe, not new universe).  Spock goes from being a young, peculiarly unemotional crew member to an elder statesman and almost shamanic figure.  Even older women possess this quality in literature as is evidenced by a long literary history of wise grandmother figures and fairy grandmothers.

I will leave you to consider what aspects of aging I consider as I celebrate my 54th birthday.



PS: A couple weeks before Leonard Nimoy (who played Spock in the original universe) died, he hopped onto Twitter to adopt nieces and nephews. No kidding -- what a way to show agency on one's deathbed. I was one of the nieces he adopted. I'm honored to be an honorary niece of Leonard Nimoy, who showed me how to age well.