You know the moment of which I speak. That moment when you realize something is quite true about yourself…something you never thought would be true.
Perhaps your moment comes when your teenage daughter finally sits you down and explains that your choice of fashion is embarrassing her in front of her friends. Face it Mom, you’re headed for Mom jeans. Or, please Mom…just cover up some of that drooping cleavage. Or, thigh-high boots…Mom…just, no. Please, no!
And guys, you eventually reach that moment when the “comb over” just doesn’t work anymore. It’s time to consider other options and unfortunately, none of them are attractive. It’s a good thing you still have that six-pack of beer, right? It might be time to trade that Speedo in for some of these:
I wish I weren’t so observant, especially of myself. Sometimes I’d just like to turn that ability off, if you know what I mean. I used to be very competitive. I would compare myself to others, and unfairly so. Instead of focusing on the good stuff, I would get all crazy about things of which I had no control. I always wanted to be Cher, way back then. My moment of clarity came when I dressed up like Cher once for a Halloween party. I was in my early forties. This bitch someone at the party asked me if I was “Morticia’s mother.” What the fuck?
OK so maybe I asked for that abuse. It wasn’t the last time I embarrassed myself, either. Seriously, being a medium-height, slightly overweight, intelligent and witty brunette was never good enough for me. I always wished I was the cheerleader, the blond, the class-president, the athlete, the chief bitch in charge, the valedictorian, the center of attention, and the Mom of the Year. Second was never good enough for me. And yet, first rarely came for me.
So I’ve been stuck for most of my life in that void between first and “not” first. You know that place. It wouldn’t matter if it were second, third or last. It was still “not” first.
If any of this sounds familiar, and you suffer from any of the weirdness I’ve described above, you need to get a grip, people. Life is a wastin’.
Another moment of clarity came last night when I went to bed and was trying to sleep. There were young punks, stupid kids, assholes, delinquents, jerks, idiots still lots of people in the neighborhood, setting off firecrackers, and they kept setting them off until the midnight deadline. I was throwing an old-lady temper tantrum because of this annoyance. Oh, no one knew it but me, but I lay there and cussed all those young whippersnappers out for having a life and trying to enjoy themselves on our nation's 236th birthday. How dare they!
Yeah, big moment of clarity. I was getting old. I didn’t want to shoot off firecrackers and I didn’t want to stay up late. Consequently, I didn’t want anyone else to, either.
That’s really not true. No matter how badly I behaved, and I did behave badly, the truth is, I realized I had become a grumpy old biddy of sorts, at least in my mind, even though I had yet to show it on the surface.
You know what I am talking about…The old man shouting, “Get off my lawn!” syndrome. Oh my God.
Someone get me some youth serum.
Or I’ll whack you with my cane.
No, really, I didn’t mean that!
Well, I kinda did.
Thinking back over the years of all the things I’ve had to give up due to those moments of clarity, makes me want to climb into my bottle of cheap wine and continue the ferment.
For example, giving up bikinis after my first C-Section.
And giving up competitive tennis after my knees gave up on me.
Giving up on mini-skirts because my thighs got dimples, and not because minis went out of style.
Giving up on winning that beauty contest. I just couldn’t find the perfect tiara is all. I could have ruled the runway.
Giving up on being an athlete. Knees, back, weight. Excuses. Excuses. Laziness. And the fact that I really sucked at most sports.
World domination. There was actually a moment of hope there when Hillary was running for President. All she needed to do was appoint me for her Vice and we could have made beautiful political music together. So I blame that one on her and the voters. Their loss.
All kidding aside, even though you know that’s tough for me, moments of clarity happen for all of us. They keep us in check. They remind us of the fact that life is a constant change. What we need to do is learn how to embrace the change and not let it cripple our passion or enthusiasm for living.
That’s what I’m going to do.
As soon as I chase those damn kids off my lawn!
Images from Google Images