Here in my car

130410 shoppes

Here in my car, I feel safest of all,
I can lock all my doors, it’s the only way to live,
In cars ~ 
Gary Numan (Cars, released 1979)

My headphones are plugged in with this song in my head.  Again, I’m stuck in 1979.  I had been outside shrieking for the hubby since our dear dog Snuggles, for the first time ever, brought me a present (aka gopher).   I thought cats only did that!?!  My eldest brought me a CD with the instructions; you need to play this.  So I moved indoors, up the stairs and this was one of the songs recorded on it.  The hubs had found it amongst his CDs in the office.   I have no idea when I would have recorded these early 80s songs (i.e. Duran Duran, The Cure, Morrissey, DeVo, etc.)  since it is an older audio format no longer supported by my computer.  The hubs came upstairs to listen with me.  I have not heard these songs in years.  I didn’t even know who the artists were so I am very surprised that this CD even exists.

Cleaning is cathartic for me so I chose, today, to clean solo and left the older boys to assist their Dad in tuning up his truck.   I tried to avoid looking in the mirrors.  One of the things that always lurks in the back of my mind is the flab, sag and other signs of aging.  It is ingrained in my brain, literally, what is normal vs. abnormal; my gerontological/ physio background kicking in.  As I pass through each decade the number of calories I need to consume are much less.  Women are prone to osteoporosis as our estrogen levels decline, considerably, and resistance training is supposed to help with calcium retention, as well as vitamin D, for stronger bones.

Do I take the Vitamin D horsepill my P.A. prescribed for me at my last annual?  Nope.  I am not a big milk drinker; though I do enjoy plain, non-fat Greek yogurt.  My version of milk is adding half-and-half to my black cup of coffee.  Each and every day I remind myself of things I should be doing that I don’t have time to get done; notably exercise.  I barely manage walking three times per week since the last gasping whir of our faithful treadmill in December 2012.  My hubby has P90X videos ready for me to discover.  Most times, he argues, I need to spend money (gym membership, equipment, shoes, classes, etc.) for motivation to maintain fitness.  And, sadly in recent years, he hits the mark.  But if I had the time, my ideal would be to walk/hike/jog outdoors; al fresco.   With the iPod headphones, my dog and time, this would be my very free pursuit of active, normal aging.  And did I mention I hate to run?

So imagine my chagrin when, after walking on Friday morning, my back was sore.  Is it because of my posture?  Am I overcompensating as I trudge up the various hills?  Am I to chalk up all my recent ailments, flab and laugh lines with age?  In my 20s my metabolism was high; my energy levels in overdrive.  I didn’t run, I sprinted.  My 30s began with a run and ended towards a jog.  Now, the jog has become a walk with a sore back.  I’ve never had a sore back!  Some people would say it’s due to age but I know better.  Sadly, I’m just that out-of-shape.

I’ve been wondering how to age gracefully (there’s that word again); effortlessly and with beauty.  Ha!  The reality is this.  To age gracefully you must exert a whole lot of effort and it will not be pretty.  With my sweat, and tears, comes the acne and the necessity for items of clothing that tuck things in.  Gravity is not kind.  My girlfriends have various tricks that they use.  Some do not sleep on their sides, others use special (and sometimes expensive) creams.  My mother-in-law uses Oil of Olay which, honestly, she just has great genetics.  My very oily, acne-prone skin does not do well with Oil of Olay or just oil in general.  Liposuction always is appealing but I’m too chicken.  I’d rather, no pain no gain, the traditional way.  Boob job?  When I wear the Miracle Bra I feel like I’m hefting weights.  I’d rather do something non-invasive, thank you very much.  For now, Victoria Secret will get my business although the hubby claims he knows her real secret.  $$  And I was told Spandex does wonders…  they even have a version for guys!

I’m trying to find my way au naturel.  I admire one of my girlfriends who is bucking the tide and is allowing herself to go gray.  Our society venerates youth and people go to extremes to personify it.  But is it really worth it?  Will the Botox, lipo or boob job really make me feel any better about myself or will I continue to try and search for my elusive more?  Will I fruitlessly look for worth in the pursuit of beauty?  

The song above is on repeat and it makes me smile; this is the perfect driving song.  One of my favorite times of the day is when I am on the freeway heading to work with my music thumping in my car; sans kids.  I feel quite safe in my car happily gliding from one lane to another.  I look at the cars on the freeway like a chessboard and I am always plotting my next move; trying to make it seamless.     I have not looked back for many years and, as I age, I think music is my way of recapturing my youth.  For some reason I am stuck in the late 70s, early 80s.  I watched a YouTube video of Duran Duran and noticed my new layered hairstyle actually looks like John Taylor or Nick Rhodes.  I’m flashing back!  Soon you’ll find me wearing legwarmers and getting shin splints attempting to Zumba aka Flashdance.

Here in my car, I can only receive
I can listen to you, it keeps me stable for days,
In cars

Here in my car, where the image breaks down
Will you visit me please?  If I open my door,
In cars ~ Gary Numan (Cars, released 1979)


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