Well, it’s my birthday. And I have a problem.
You might have noticed it yourself. You may even have asked me about it. Or wondered in stoic silence. “Whatever will she do?” you asked yourself. I am sure it has been weighing on you — heavily. As well it should.
“FiftyFourAndAHalf,” that’s the problem. It’s right up there at the top of the page. Yup, the blog’s name. I called it that in a fit of pique at the GOP who were going to take Medicare away from everyone under 55. Starting with me. It seemed grossly unfair when I was younger. Like, you know, six months ago.
But, ummmm. I’m not FiftyFourAndAHalf anymore. I’m not even FiftyFourAndThreeQuarters, either — the name my son, Jacob, has been calling me. Because my 55th birthday is here. I tried to stop it, but, well, I failed. My bad.
I didn’t know what to do. I thought of taking a poll:
I must admit I was afraid of your answers. More importantly, I was afraid that I had more poll questions than readers.
But then I saw this:
John Gorka, singing “People My Age”
It helped me make my decision. It stiffened my resolve. I wish I had thought of it sooner. Like 20 years ago. But back then, I didn’t know that people my age had started looking gross.
So I’m not going on to FiftyFive. I don’t want to be my age, because people my age have started looking gross.
I’m sticking with FiftyFourAndAHalf.
Man! I look better already.
FiftyFourandAHalf 