Category Archives: aging

48 was great, I expect 49 to be sublime

When I see a reflection of myself, I don’t think I look how 49 sounds. In many ways I feel younger than ever, the result, I think of being happy and healthy and old enough to truly appreciate it.

“Nobody wants to get old but they don’t want to die young either.” – Keith Richards

I’ve had a wonderful year with many unforgettable moments. I’m in a good place professionally in a really positive place. My boys are gaining independence, venturing forth into college, work and on wheels.* I saw some fantastic concerts and a number of beautiful sunsets. There were moments when my life felt so perfect that I could have died with a contented sigh.

“I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger.” – The Faces

When I’m 49, I plan to go to Nashville with my best friends and Spain and Portugal with my middle son. My brother and I will be restaurant owners. I’ll challenge myself with a half marathon and a schedule that will be intense, to say the least. There will be delicious meals and lovely wines and I’ll take pictures and write about all of it.

“Never slow down, never grow old.” – Tom Petty

Age, like weight and height, is a number. It’s up to each of us to decide the importance of it in our lives. I’d like to think that the total of my years is a pretty small figure when compared to the total number of moments I’ve shared with loved ones laughing, making memories and experiencing life.  49 is going to be fine.

*Quinn is obsessed with his bicycle and the freedom it affords him.


Filed under aging, Albany, birthdays, Dinner, family

Robert Plant and the Sensational Space Shifters

imageThe first time I saw Robert Plant was at the Meadowlands in the late 80s. I was 21 or 22 years-old and had been a Led Zeppelin fan for as long as I could remember. Stevie Ray Vaughan opened up and absolutely ruined Plant for me. Stevie was just that good.

Since that time, I’m happy to say, Plant has come back to me and he’s been amazing each of the subsequent times I’ve been fortunate enough to see him. It’s like he’s grown more comfortable with himself, with who he is and what his range is these days. You might say he’s shifted his space, sensationally at that.

Friday night’s show was inspirational. Watching a man (nearly 20 years my senior) perform songs that span more than 4 decades, yet still remain relevant, is a pretty cool thing to witness. Catching a reflection of myself in the mirror and realizing that I was wearing an outfit (Frye boots, cutoffs, tshirt) that is probably just about identical to one I may have worn to my first Plant show, only added to the space shifting vibe.

I’m no rock star, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn a lesson or two about aging from a musical idol. Plant’s range may no longer be as wide, but his catalog has depth and with his awareness of his reach, he sounded great. Read this guy’s spot on review. The set list featured many familiar tunes, with the songs reworked, beats a bit slower, sung a little lower. They were different, but not diminished.

As we grow older its only natural that we, too, shift space. We move from being children motivated to please our parents and teachers to adults who often commit to being responsible for another’s happiness. Maybe that’s where we contentedly stay or perhaps we continue forward motion with a partner by our side. There are so many possibilities.

I’ve definitely arrived in a space where I’m interested in being who I am today. Me. I’m kind of done with taking directions, preferring to shift into a different gear that allows me to do the things I find most interesting and satisfying. I may not sing songs, but believe me, I’ve got more chapters to write.  Ramble on.

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Filed under aging, concerts, Music, NYC

Can I have your number?



I went to NYC yesterday evening to see Robert Plant and his band the Sensational Shape Shifters. It’s been a hectic week and it was so nice to cut loose a little and slow down for the night. Incidentally, what does it mean, when my life is so busy, that I go to the city to chill? Anyway, it was a lot of fun and we laughed so on hard on the train, I cried.

As you can imagine, it was a loud show and, this morning, I woke up with ears ringing. In addition to the left over notes of music in my head, I was also re-hearing some of the conversations from the night. One interaction in particular has replayed itself a few times and I’m left wondering if my position is typical for a nearly 49-year-old woman.

There was a guy at the show who initiated a conversation with me – something not easy to do when the music is loud and the show is standing room only. He actually even entertained me enough that I agreed to step into the lobby to continue the conversation, as it was about music and politics. We talked for a few minutes and then I excused myself to return to my friend and the rock god we were there to see.

As I took my leave, he asked me for my card, which I didn’t have with me since I was traveling light, sans wallet. He then asked for my number. I declined explaining that I wasn’t a person who just gave out her number. He reached for his phone to give me his number. I shook my head.

He asked me how I met people, had I ever been in a relationship or married and, if so, how had that begun? Wasn’t it with the bestowing of a phone number? I told him I met my former husband in a restaurant, we had mutual friends. He shook his head.

Is it weird that I think a guy should have to do a little work? You know, maybe get my name and take it from there? Be a little resourceful and make an effort? I guess I’m in a place where I just don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect for someone to demonstrate their interest by exerting themselves prior to asserting themselves.

What about you? How do you strike up new friendships?  Do you give your people your number?


Filed under aging, concerts, NYC, relationships, road trips, Uncategorized

Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow

imageI’ve been going through a Stevie Nicks/Fleetwood Mac phase. It was prompted by the book I’m currently reading, a Stevie Nicks biography. The book is no where near the quality of the music I’ve been listening to on my Fleetwood Mac Pandora station, but I have learned a few new things about one of my teenaged music heroines.

My fondness for Stevie and “The Mac’, as the author insists upon calling them, isn’t a recent thing. Rumours was my very first favorite album and I recall both Bella Donna and Wild Heart getting a lot of play on my Walkman. It was definitely about the music initially but over the years, the lyrics have made an equally strong impression upon me.

Running today, the songs went directly to a place deep inside me. I thought about what’s going on in my life and how sometimes we need to hear that it’s ok to go your own way. Time keeps moving and sometimes we need to change directions.  Love is only one fine star away.

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Filed under aging, favorites, love, Music, musings, running

Letting go

imageSaturday was a big day and I’m not talking about American Pharaoh’s upset up in Saratoga. No, it was the first day of my oldest son’s adult life – he is officially a college freshman. Yesterday was Drop Off day, which might be better named Jump off a Cliff Day because that’s what I felt like doing after waiting in endless lines on a hot afternoon.

How come no one told me about the clusterf*ck involved with getting your kid situated in a dorm room? I suspect it is part of an overall conspiracy of silence involving parenting situations such as childbirth, potty training and your child’s impersonation of Satan during puberty. Come on, more experienced parents, you need to share this information! For the uninitiated, let me tell you what it was like…

First, you’re assigned a specific drop off time, which is silly because it truly means nothing. If you’re like me, you dutifully arrive 5 minutes early (forgoing that gas stop in favor of promptness) to join the already inordinately long line of vehicles trying to reach the promised land of “Student sign in.” After approximately 30 minutes, you reach your first destination, park your car, race to use the bathroom and wait patiently as your child queues to receive their dorm keys.

Step two involves driving to another parking area, one I ultimately referred to as the “holding pen,” where you park near other parents with children with the same dormitory assignment. This is where you have an opportunity to meet other annoyed parents and discuss the odds of getting your children unpacked before their graduation day arrives. After about an hour, and numerous parents complaining to the keepers of the gate, we were finally released to go wait in our cars for the final line step – drop off.

This part of the process is made much more exciting if your gas gauge indicates that your miles-to-go-to-zero is clicking down at the speed of light, or so it seems to be when contrasted with the rate of speed in which the line moves. If you’re lucky, a nice university cop will let you advance when he correctly detects panic in your voice as you ask him how far it is to the nearest gas station. Now things get fun.

imageYou pull to the curb and are immediately approached by an enthusiastic group of students who happily take the remaining possessions out of your car (everything other than the refrigerator already unloaded and hauled on foot by your children as they try to hasten the process) and place them into wheeled bins to deliver to your child’s room. There are brief conversations (Student: “Do you know where you’re going?” Parent: “Yes, the f*ck out of here.” and “I love your Bernie sticker!” said by the young woman in charge of UHart’s Students for Bernie Facebook page) and then you park your car in the third parking lot of the day and finally enter the room where your child will be living.

imageAnd then, it gets real. You see your child unpacking the things they found most important to bring along on their college adventure – books, electronics, that tea kettle you gave them as a birthday gift. You take in their surroundings so you can imagine them there when your home feels off-balance and empty without them. You walk back to your car and know beyond a doubt that the original cord cutting 18+ years ago was just the first of many. And you let go.

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Filed under aging, Boys, Education, family, moms, road trips

What are you full of?

imageDuring last night’s mental therapy run, I was thinking about potential and how long it takes for some to accept the challenge and make the effort required to embody their own unrealized possibility. Self actualization  – it isn’t necessarily an easy thing to accomplish.

Change and growth can be scary.  There’s an inherent risk involved when we let go of what we know to reach for something new. I see this hesitation, this lack of movement, at times in myself as well as in (other) important people in my life and it can be maddeningly frustrating.  It’s hard to feel, it’s equally hard to witness.

Possessing potential is great but over the years I’ve learned that a central core of ability is nothing, unless it comes coupled with the capacity to work hard. Without drive and determination, being full of potential can closely resemble being full of sh*t.

A couple of songs which hammered home what I was thinking and feeling during those five miles. Thank you, Fiona and Aimee for the wisdom.


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Filed under aging, love, musings, Observations, running, Uncategorized

When weakness is your superpower

It seems to me that people exert power in different ways. Some, control those in their lives by their weakness, manipulating others to do what they need done by demonstrating their own inability to manage life. Maybe they’re frequently sick or suffering from some vague, undiagnosable illness forcing prompting their family and friends to constantly attend to their needs. Perhaps they have a history of irresponsibility (financial, practical, whatever) and have become accustomed to being bailed out of trying situations.

Regardless of specifics, they’ve been conditioned to expect to be rescued when they are in challenging circumstances and have successfully mastered manipulating those around them. Their lack of capability has in fact become their greatest strength.

I have no patience or tolerance for people like this, even when I try to be empathetic. I’m sorry.  We all have different histories and patterns of behavior are certainly created in childhood. I understand that, yet adults who refuse to acknowledge their responsibility for the condition that is known as their life repel me like kryptonite.

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Filed under aging, musings, Observations, relationships