Silver Threads
        
        Commentary by JoEllen 
        Collins
        
        I was never blessed with a living 
        grandmother, so I spent many fanciful hours as a child imagining the 
        laps of white-haired and slightly pudgy old ladies, thinking how much I 
        wanted to settle into one of them. Now that I am the age of the women I 
        imagined, and several of my friends are grandmothers of long standing, I 
        realize how outdated my concepts were. They were right for my era but 
        wrong for today’s "elderly" woman.
        One of the huge shifts in society 
        as we get fully into the 21st century involves our expectations about 
        and treatments of the aged. The frail or plump granny of old has been 
        replaced by a woman who is healthy, active and full of vitality well 
        into years that before now would have consigned her to a rest home. My 
        daughters’ image of me as a potentially sprightly 95-year old may not be 
        totally misguided. At least I hope so. While this is wonderful, I have 
        noticed that there are still mixed messages about those of us who are 
        members of AARP.
        Even articles in respected 
        publications, which analyze the effects on society of aging baby boomers 
        and advances in medicine for an increasingly long-lived population, seem 
        unable to resist a snicker or two. In the Sunday, March 7, edition of 
        the New York Times, Peter Kilborn wrote an article chronicling the 
        "Geriatric Mating Game." The piece reviewed the now-open communication 
        of the existence of sexual pleasure and the age-old quest for 
        companionship among the elderly in Scottsdale, Ariz. While interesting 
        and thoroughly well-supported, the column couldn’t resist subtly 
        interwoven humorous jabs at the aged. One example was the reference to 
        the "lure of the tango" that "rouses the elderly out of their 
        La-Z-Boys." The column spoke of many people in their 60s, 70s and even 
        80s who are part of the "geriatric" crowd still sexually active and 
        interested in romance. I’m afraid the overall impression I received was 
        that this is something to giggle about, to condescend to from the perch 
        of a younger person. Part of that, I’m sure, is that, just as we didn’t 
        want to view our parents as sexual creatures, it is uncomfortable to 
        alter our perceptions of Grandma and Grandpa.
        I must admit that I have some 
        trouble with accepting my age. I don’t want to be laughed at just 
        because I am eligible for Social Security. I was talking with a friend 
        the other day about Medicare and we both laughed at the reality that we 
        are actually discussing Medicare benefits. I still feel like a 
        30-year-old, and here I am, being the source of wisdom about the 
        programs I am lucky enough to have lived long enough to use! My mother 
        died at the age of 59 and never enjoyed a quiet old age … or any old 
        age, for that matter.
        I can laugh at myself, surely. I 
        have always been clumsy and so when I bump into things I make jokes 
        about it and don’t mind mocking my lack of grace. But, like the members 
        of ethnic groups who can laugh at jokes about their characteristics as 
        long as they themselves tell them, I find myself resenting the sniggers 
        about people in my age bracket. I can laugh at myself, but don’t let 
        anyone else do it! As much as I value a sense of humor, I am losing it 
        when it is directed at "seniors."
        By the way, when I was in the 
        Peace Corps, I was labeled a "senior" because I was over 50. When I 
        first met my fellow volunteers I struck up friendships with most of them 
        in their 20s and 30s. I don’t think they ever viewed me as the "senior" 
        I was (medically, the Peace Corps feared illness, so they assigned me to 
        be relatively close to Bangkok hospitals. I wasn’t sick one day of my 
        tenure there). Ageism was non-existent in those surroundings, and as a 
        result I was truly rejuvenated by the experience. It was only back in 
        the United States that I encountered gasps at my age. Statements like 
        "You don’t look your age," while flattering, make me wonder at my worth 
        should I truly "look" the age I am. I know few people of my age who own, 
        much less spend time in, La-Z-Boys. Most of my contemporaries work hard 
        and will work for several years longer than they ever planned. Most of 
        my contemporaries are growing tired of jokes stimulated by Viagra (whose 
        users aren’t always aged) and columns like the one in the Times.
        We may still be vital, full of 
        life and, yes, even interested in love and romance. I think that’s 
        terrific, and I also think it helps us live longer and fuller lives. I 
        would hope that my inquiry in the form of the Beatles’ "Will you still 
        love me, when I’m 64?" will be answered with a resounding "YES!" I would 
        wish for some respect about all of that romance stuff, though. Let me 
        have my tender relationships without the Times’ reference to my being 
        "nimble-kneed" or to wearing "tight leather pants" or having to resort 
        to "wrinkle creams," or having "cabinets of sex-enhancing drugs."
        No one wants to be stereotyped. 
        May you all live long enough to deal with this particular irritation!