It’s a lovely day for a rant… come on in, the water if a little choppy, is fine. This outburst has been simmering since the weekend when for a reason unfathomable to me, commentary around what Andy Rooney thinks about women over 50, hit my social media circle. If you missed it, Google searching “andy rooney women around 50” will get you more hits that you can handle.
Snopes disavows Andy Rooney’s authorship of the piece. Regardless of who penned it, this ‘Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 50 is far sexier than her younger counterpart’ p!ssed me off, oh and that so many Google results I looked at sucked it up.
Any restraint I had vanished this morning when a work colleague handed me the 2012 All Australian Get Reading Guide. As I was flicking through, I stopped at the blurb for My Hundred Lovers by Susan Johnson for which I had read a review previously.
That the ever-so-brief blurb uses the word ‘still‘ TWICE
‘An original imaging of one woman’s waning flesh and the vibrant imprint of a life it still holds’
‘…an impressionist portrait of a woman moving into middle age, but still vibrantly alert to the senses.’
stopped me in my tracks & sent me scurrying first for a notepad on which to rabidly scribble the details of my outrage, then to the keyboard. I’ll tone it down in execution but feel free to assume the word f*ck!ng appears throughout this post.
Anyone who read my post the fountain of youth knows on questionnaires I have to tick the box for the demographically unfashionable age group of 45+. To flog an over used term, I own it.
Last time I looked in the mirror, my body isn’t decomposing. I regularly groom, shower and exercise. There is no reason for any person to approach my body with dread, nor make allowances for any aspect of it.
None of my senses are impaired, other than short sightedness which has necessitated me wearing glasses since I was the vibrant unwrinkled age of 15.
I am a human being, not an object to be assessed. I certainly don’t need my age, whatever it be, condescended to.
So, stop talking about me like that. I’m not dead yet.