I fell in love with Lewis Grizzard the first time I saw his name in print. Momma foretold it. She gave me his book, "Kathy Sue Loudermilk, I Love You" when I was having my last baby with whom she hoped would be my last husband. Momma thoughtfully exclaimed, "I know that you will just love him, he has been married as many times as you." Momma always had a way with words. Even though I had been reading his columns in the Atlanta Journal Constitution long before, the book sealed the deal. I couldn't wait to see what he wrote next. He made me laugh every time I read anything he wrote.
My friends and I laughed all the way back home from Athens the first time we heard Grizzard tell the story about Uga on the football field taking care of some personal hygiene matters and Bubba admiring the dog's, let's say flexibility. I don't remember the year, who Georgia played, nor the outcome of the game but I will always remember Lewis' advice to Bubba, "That dog will bite you".
Grizzard made me laugh for years. Then he made me cry. It seemed like a pig valve would be well suited for him and his humor. He got lots of miles out of joking about his new affectation to sunshine and mud. He married, had a child in his life, life seemed good for Lewis. Then he up and died. It was the first time I ever cried at the news of a writer's death. Even though I never got around to marrying him, or meeting him for that matter, I miss his humor, his slant on life, and his childhood memories. Lewis, if you are out there, I want you to know that you inspired me to write. I know that it took thirty years to get my stories on paper but I have been busy. I want you to know that you were and are still my inspiration. Thank goodness we never met or we might have had to cross your name out of the family bible.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Growing Old Gracefully
I have always heard that old is a state of mind. Well I can tell you one thing, it is not a state I want to live in. Isn't funny how the number connected to old is always a much higher number than your age?
I didn't mind forty, I finally reached the triple digits on the scale. It was a major milestone to weigh one hundred pounds. The greatest thing about being in my forties was that I found myself no longer cold. In fact I was hot. Real hot. I really never cared for cokes but I did discover how to cool off by holding an ice cold can of coke to my neck during long board meetings. Have you ever noticed how no one questions a menopausal woman's actions. My children were growing up and I was pleased that they had not killed each other nor had I done them in. I soon came to realize that menopause and puberty did not mix. Thankfully every one in my family survived my forties.
Fifty was fantastic, I felt great and had accomplished many things in my career and personal life that I found satisfying. Fifty didn't bother me until I started getting invitations to join the senior citizens center for God's sake. I was incensed that someone thought that I would fit in with those old people. My first inclination was to go over there and give those old men a heart attack. I quickly came to my senses and just ignored the invitations to AARP and senior banking discounts.
I have been sixty for one year. I am learning to go to Ross on Tuesdays for the 10% discount, eat lunch at Captain D's on Wednesday, and take advantage of all sorts of "senior discounts". I can even get in the movies cheaper than my grandson. Older was starting to look better and better. I didn't even mind being asked for my I.D. at the grocery store when purchasing a bottle of wine, even though I knew the 12 year old cashier wanted to yell out "old lady on 5 buying wine".
I'm thinking that I am doing pretty darn good with this aging thing. I have come to accept the fact that major league baseball must be drafting from the Little League, doctors are starting their practices at fifteen, and maybe I better check with my grandson before I say something like "I could hook you up". Yes, I watch my weight now. I swear that am never going to weigh as much as I did the day I had any of my children. So what if it was only 119 pounds. That is my number I keep in my head and I even kind of have to work at staying below that. I still call grown men boys if they are young enough to be my children. So I now know 41 year old boys. I discovered cougar has a new meaning. I don't think that is a complementary term and I sure don't want it ever applied to me. There is something foolish looking about older women looking at boys that are young enough to be their children, or at least their younger brothers, as possible dating material. I was, however, dismayed to see the term applied to Courtney Cox in her new TV series "Cougar". If someone as young as her, isn't she about 30, could be called a cougar then I must be a dinosaur. Don't get me wrong, I am happy that I am married to a wonderful man my own age who appreciates how the years have changed me.
Yes I still look at the obits and exclaim how young some dead person was if they were any where close to my age. I'll admit that old age is on a sliding scale and it will always be older than my current age. I get that from my mother, she used to say she was going to the church to help the old people. She was 80. Good God, I wondered how old the old people were. Now I know, much older than me.
I didn't mind forty, I finally reached the triple digits on the scale. It was a major milestone to weigh one hundred pounds. The greatest thing about being in my forties was that I found myself no longer cold. In fact I was hot. Real hot. I really never cared for cokes but I did discover how to cool off by holding an ice cold can of coke to my neck during long board meetings. Have you ever noticed how no one questions a menopausal woman's actions. My children were growing up and I was pleased that they had not killed each other nor had I done them in. I soon came to realize that menopause and puberty did not mix. Thankfully every one in my family survived my forties.
Fifty was fantastic, I felt great and had accomplished many things in my career and personal life that I found satisfying. Fifty didn't bother me until I started getting invitations to join the senior citizens center for God's sake. I was incensed that someone thought that I would fit in with those old people. My first inclination was to go over there and give those old men a heart attack. I quickly came to my senses and just ignored the invitations to AARP and senior banking discounts.
I have been sixty for one year. I am learning to go to Ross on Tuesdays for the 10% discount, eat lunch at Captain D's on Wednesday, and take advantage of all sorts of "senior discounts". I can even get in the movies cheaper than my grandson. Older was starting to look better and better. I didn't even mind being asked for my I.D. at the grocery store when purchasing a bottle of wine, even though I knew the 12 year old cashier wanted to yell out "old lady on 5 buying wine".
I'm thinking that I am doing pretty darn good with this aging thing. I have come to accept the fact that major league baseball must be drafting from the Little League, doctors are starting their practices at fifteen, and maybe I better check with my grandson before I say something like "I could hook you up". Yes, I watch my weight now. I swear that am never going to weigh as much as I did the day I had any of my children. So what if it was only 119 pounds. That is my number I keep in my head and I even kind of have to work at staying below that. I still call grown men boys if they are young enough to be my children. So I now know 41 year old boys. I discovered cougar has a new meaning. I don't think that is a complementary term and I sure don't want it ever applied to me. There is something foolish looking about older women looking at boys that are young enough to be their children, or at least their younger brothers, as possible dating material. I was, however, dismayed to see the term applied to Courtney Cox in her new TV series "Cougar". If someone as young as her, isn't she about 30, could be called a cougar then I must be a dinosaur. Don't get me wrong, I am happy that I am married to a wonderful man my own age who appreciates how the years have changed me.
Yes I still look at the obits and exclaim how young some dead person was if they were any where close to my age. I'll admit that old age is on a sliding scale and it will always be older than my current age. I get that from my mother, she used to say she was going to the church to help the old people. She was 80. Good God, I wondered how old the old people were. Now I know, much older than me.
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