Little White Lies
I was born in Quincy in 1950…My Dad was in the Navy…and my Mother was pretty…Are you doing the math in your head yet?…Here, want a pencil?!
I don’t tell anyone my real age unless it’s going to save me some money, which happened recently.
Floyd’s Jacksonville Center for the Arts has a new retail store that features the creative efforts of local artists. A few days ago, I stopped by the Center to drop off some of my books (“The Jim and Dan Stories” and “Muses Like Moonlight”) for sale in the shop, and I discovered that you had to be member to sell items there. I was more than happy to become a member, seeing as how the Center is such an asset to our community, and I fully support its goals, particularly the newly opened folk art school.
Jeri, a friend who works there, said to me, “It costs $25 to join. Too bad you’re not 55 because then it would only cost $15.”
“Hmmmm….It just so happens that… I recently turned 55,” I lowered my voice and confessed to her. She was shocked because she, like most of my friends, doesn’t know how old I am, due to the fact that I generally lie about it…usually by only a year.
But I hadn’t confessed quietly enough. Wayne, the director and another friend (Floyd is a small town), overheard us and said, “What? Colleen! You don’t look 55.”
“That’s because I hang around with that young guy. You know, my husband, Joe. Joe is 10 years younger than me,” I told Wayne.
“Is that all?” he asked.
“NO! I lie about that too! He’s really 11 years younger than me!” I said laughing and stomping a foot.
So that’s my formula. I shave one year off my age and add one year to Joe’s. It’s information I don’t share freely, but if anyone really wants to know (or if it will save me some money), I will admit the truth.
I wrote out a check for $15, and a few days later I received a membership card in the mail. I gasped when I opened the envelope and saw the word “senior” written on the card. Being referred to as a “senior” was a first (and much worse than the first time I didn’t get carded in a bar or the first time someone called me ma’am)!
Post Note: Summer of Blog 2005!
Mooalex is hosting the Summer of Blog 2005, which is a gallery of blogger’s summer photos. Loose Leaf has a photo featured, “Taking the Cure,” taken by my sister Sherry’s husband, Nelson Pidgeon, of her and I in Rockport, Massachusetts.
August 29th, 2005 10:36 am
I am glad that you are bold enough to mention how old you are Coll (I won’t)! Although awhile back a woman wanted to see my license because she didn’t believe my age either. The way I look at it…it is just a number, like your weight.
August 29th, 2005 10:58 am
But I don’t want to be too fat or too old! But what do I know? Some things are out of our hands. This post will be in the archives soon and everyone will go back to forgetting how old I really am. Aren’t you glad you’re my YOUNGER sister?
August 29th, 2005 1:40 pm
You don’t look your age!!! BTW, my husband is 12, almost 13 years older than me!:) My mother just recently was told that she looked like my sister instead of my mother…hope the youthful look stays in the genes!
August 29th, 2005 1:42 pm
Hi Colleen and Sherry, Glad you each had good weekends away. Speaking of age (and btw, it’s no fun being the oldest of our clan…lol) I recently had the opposite experience. A local grocery store gives 10% senior discount on Tuesday’s. A teenager was at the helm and rang though my order but before hitting the total she looked at me kinda funny and said, “are you waiting for the discount?” “What discount?” I asked not being familiar with senior citizen Tuesdays. “The senior discount,” she exclaimed telling me about the program. I told her I wasn’t waiting for it because I wasn’t old enough and then with a chuckle said, “don’t ruin my day.” A woman in her 70’s or 80’s who was behind me tapped me on the shoulder and said, “a little Clairol would help.” We all laughed.
August 29th, 2005 3:02 pm
Oh my. I wouldn’t have guessed your age at all. Age gets to be such a touchy thing after 40ish. I’ll never forget overhearing one of the young people at my old job telling someone how to find my supervisor’s desk and saying, “Near Carol’s .. you know, the older woman with the grayish hair.” I cried all the way home.
Then I laughed because I realized I’m so much wiser than that little chippie! haha
August 29th, 2005 6:32 pm
Hi .. from another Colleen .. one year younger though 🙂
August 29th, 2005 8:38 pm
Hi Colleen. You don’t look 55. I am 50 and don’t feel almost senior, or I think look it either. Although I am all for saving money, I think our definition of “senior” should be re evaluated. I had a friend who runs in a Marathon every year and has since the race’s inception. One year they sent hima shirt that said Master Runner on it. He was so proud til he found out that everyone 50 and older got one.
August 29th, 2005 11:39 pm
Mary’s a year older than I, but I’ve got gray and wear my hair up, whereas she has a very youthful appearance and no gray unless you look hard. On more than one occasion people have mistaken her for my daughter. (She’s talked about getting a T-shirt that reads, “I’m the older one.”) We get a kick out of it.
“Senior” — We also get a kick out of the fact that AARP’s been courting us since we each were about 35.
August 31st, 2005 5:49 am
I had a patient once who was 92. After some time of working together on his hip problem, he said “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”
Somewhat hesitantly, feeling ancient after a recent birthday, I told him “I’m 52.”
“Why” he exclaimed, “you’re JUST A BOY!”
And so even at 57, I’m still a boy; and to some folks, at 55, you’re JUST A GIRL! Let’s enjoy our childhood while we can…
September 1st, 2005 6:19 am
You are so cute! It is all just numbers, Colleen. I am going to be the big 60 in December and while I don’t like to dwell on that, I also will not avoid it. The stories I have lived to tell…