Being Old is No Place for Sissies
Last night I began an online course in hopes of improving my writing. I did half the weeks assignments and seriously contemplated if anything would be useful to me. Slowly I began to think about it. There were points that the teacher spoke about that I had never really thought about.
Who was my target audience?
Who was I writing for?
I sat and pondered for awhile and finally realized the bulk of my audience was over the age of 40. I think it kind of shocked me for an instant, and wondered when I became so old. Each day I look in the mirror and see the same person I was 40 years ago, but no one else sees that Linda anymore. I am now 62 years old and no longer wear a size 4. Well, I never wore a size 4 so that's beside the point.
If I really was the same reflection in the mirror I greet each day I would spring out of bed each morning eager to take on the day. Since when did my face start resembling a peach? Upset with my peach fuzz status I pluck like a maniac and refuse to call chin hairs "stray eyebrows" as I once did. My natural blonde hair is no longer sultry and is dyed flaming red. Instead of a Dietrich look, I now sometimes assume a dead on impression of Bette Davis in "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane".
I can no longer stand people talking in loud volumes, especially on their cell phones. Do I really want to know what your "Baby's Daddy" is not doing for you? Silently I now scream obscenities at those that bring hockey-bag loads of laundry into my laundry room. I do laundry frequently because I prefer to wear clean underwear every day. Remaining silent, I know that it would be over their heads to offer that information as they choose not to wear any such thing. I can also vouch that these personal sparing of the briefs has nothing to do with saving the environment as I watch them pour their “green” detergent into the soap compartment.
On a good note, because of my senior status, my bank now charges $9.95 a month in fees instead of $13.95 . What can I do with the extra $4.00 savings each month? Would that $4.00 buy me a package of much needed Depends down the road?
In summation, I guess I finally realize who I really write for. I write to entertain and provide information for others- but mostly I write for myself. Shunning the advice an esteemed editor gave me two years ago that 'old' does not sell readership, I publish this myself of my own free will despite supposed repercussions of being unread. Now that I am older I pay less attention to what people say- as I will never outlive my enthusiasm to write, and I am one hell of a stubborn woman. As Bette Davis once said:
“Old age ain't no place for sissies.”
Amen to that sister!
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Author's Note
I wrote this after finally realizing we all think what we write will entertain everyone. In essence, in reality, we do not. Hard pill to swallow, but it is what it is.
Other stories by Linda Seccaspina
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Funny! And well done.
Thanks Diana.. I only write funny or gloom.. Can never find a middle ground haha
Excellent. It's funny because my mom said something very similar to me when I was talking on the phone with her last week, something to the effect of, "Getting old is not for the faint of heart," and, "Getting old sucks." She didn't elaborate, but you have, and it is much appreciated. I am terrified of getting old. *
As my dad used to say, it ain't fun but it beats the hell out of the alternative. He's done 'em both now. *
I concur. I suppose "old" doesn't sell, but it's all I know now. Ouch. Damned sciatica.
Chris.. be afraid... very afraid..:)
Matt.. yes I have heard that also and it sucks
Steven- I was flabbergasted when I heard that. I had to change my picture too. WTH?
Amen. *
Amen indeed. *
(On another good note: don't miss out on the $10 lifetime senior pass to all national parks. I've not too long ago turned 62 myself and already hiked down and up the Grand Canyon and visited 2 other parks, looking forward to more).