Postcard from the Slope

Countdown to Fifty: Eight Days to Go

3 Comments

Eight more days and I will be celebrating a major milestone. Here is my thought for today:

Turning forty, as I recall, was more about: Where am I in my life? What have I accomplished? Who am I?

Turning fifty is more about: health, mortality, big questions of time and space.
It’s bracing and REAL.

My forties were about getting comfortable in my own skin, in my own life, in my own way of thinking.

At almost fifty, I feel fierce and determined. I feel ready for anything. I feel strong, excited, and a little bit scared.

3 thoughts on “Countdown to Fifty: Eight Days to Go”

  1. I’m right behind you, Louise (in January)! Happy Birthday and thanks for helping me keep in touch w/the Brooklyn part of me…

  2. Amen! I hit this landmark last year and felt very much the same way–it propelled me to do a lot of very exciting stuff this year, making it one of the best years of my life. Bring it on!

  3. Dear Louise,
    I turned 50 this July 5th in Sag Harbor. On the 17th of July I celebrated the 50th anniversary of my first day in Sag and will be there when your birthday arrives.
    It’s really a wonderful feeling to reach such an age and still be very much in touch with how good life is, how blessed we are to celebrate with loving spouses and thriving children.
    I will raise a glass and send positive vibes from Sag to you on the 28th and hope you have a wonderful 50th!
    cheers,
    David AKA TatumsDad on 5th St.
    ps. when in doubt, just remember this little tune:
    I’M GLAD I’M NOT YOUNG ANYMORE
    From “Gigi” (1958)
    (Lyrics : Alan Jay Lerner / Music : Frederick Loewe)
    Poor boy! Poor boy!
    Down-hearted and depressed and in a spin
    Poor boy! Poor boy!
    Oh, youth can really do a fellow in!
    How lovely to sit here in the shade
    With none of the woes of man and maid
    I’m glad I’m not young anymore
    The rivals that don’t exist at all
    The feeling you’re only two feet tall
    I’m glad that I’m not young anymore
    No more confusion
    No morning-after surprise
    No self-delusion
    That when you’re telling those lies
    She isn’t wise
    And even if love comes through the door
    The chance that goes on forevermore
    Forevermore is shorter than before
    Oh, I’m so glad that I’m not young anymore
    The tiny remark that tortures you
    The fear that your friends won’t like her too
    I’m glad I’m not young anymore
    The longing to end the stale affair
    Until you find out she doesn’t care
    I’m glad that I’m not young anymore
    No more frustration
    No star-crossed lover am I
    No aggravation
    Just one reluctant reply
    “Lady, goodbye!”
    The Fountain of Youth is dull as paint
    Methuselah is my patron saint
    I’ve never been so comfortable before
    Oh, I’m so glad that I’m not young anymore
    (Transcribed by Holly Tooker – December 2003)

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