Old Photos? Or Just Old Faces?!?!

            Most people don’t like to have their pictures taken.  Oh, sure, there are a few who do.

            I’m in that first group.  I don’t like to have my picture taken.  Maybe it’s because we haven’t yet identified a side that could qualify to be my “good side.”  Actually, I don’t think I have a good side.

            Be that as it may, I have a picture someone took that I like okay.  Considering others, this one is at least half-way decent.

            That’s the one I chose, naturally, to use on my Google profile and on other Internet sites that needed a photo, although later I found another that I used on an alternating basis.  I didn’t like the second one as much but at least it was a change from time to time.

            The first photo, though, is the one that was on a particular site that The Duppster (my hubby) was checking out last week. 

            That’s also the photo he was looking at when he asked, “How long ago was THAT picture taken???”

            He was on the right track; this was most definitely not a new picture. 

            But it’s not like it was 30 or 40 years ago either.  It was taken in November 2009 – exactly two years ago. Now, I ask you: How much can one person change in just two little years?

            Yep, you’re right.  Apparently, a WHOLE lot. 

            When my own hubby thinks the two-year-old photo is an ancient one, it’s time to use something more recent.  I’m thinking of using an avatar or caricature instead of a real picture.

            Whatever I use, I don’t think The Duppster will be asking how old it is any time soon.

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Necks, Chins and Aging

This week I turn 62. I don’t feel 62.


Except sometimes.

Like when I look in the mirror and see that my neck isn’t anymore. I mean, there’s no neck there. It isn’t. It has ceased to exist.

My chin and neck have run together. Or perhaps it’s my neck and several chins. The turkey with the wattle has nothing on me.

And then there are the chin hairs. And all of the extra skin where there used to be just two eyelids and two eyebrows. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to open up my eyes because of all of the several folds of skin.

There’s also extra skin hanging around from the upper arms, especially noticeable if I lift my arms up above shoulder level. Thank goodness, I don’t have to walk around with my arms raised up.

Last week, when I asked the dermatologist about several worrisome spots, he said they were “wisdom spots.” Yep, those are what most of us call “age spots.” Then, he had the audacity to use my skin to show the visiting intern what happens to skin and elasticity as people age. There’s nothing quite like being a show-and-tell demonstration for the aging process.

Certainly less visible but just as indicative of aging are the inner signs – the aches and pains, the weak knees and weak hips, and even more.

I told one doctor about a burning pain in the area between my shoulders. He responded, “Do you see the arthritis in your fingers and how crooked your fingers are? Well, that’s the way your spine is also.”

Oh, great.

But I’m not complaining. I’m just sharing the process.

In fact, I would never complain about growing old.

My brother Rod didn’t get that opportunity.

~                              ~                                ~

It's All About Delivery - but Not About Babies

This is about delivery but it’s not about babies.

It’s about deliveries, assumptions, politics, intellectuals, prejudices, Nikki Haley, blondes and more. Strange combinations, don’t you think?

That Nikki Haley becomes our new governor this week is what prompted my weird collection of thoughts.

Haley, of course, is our state’s first female governor. Of Indian heritage, she is our first minority governor. She becomes the nation’s youngest governor. Believe it or not, there are still – in 2011 - a few individuals who think a woman shouldn’t be governor, or that a minority shouldn’t be or that a relatively young person shouldn’t be.

It was in early January 40 years ago that I served my very first day in the state legislature, becoming the nation’s youngest lawmaker. There were many who thought I was too young and/or that a female had no place in the law-making process.

And there were then - and still are - folks who believe that a blonde can’t have brains!

Perhaps Nikki Haley overcame some of the prejudices by the way she delivered her message. Delivery is extremely important in the election process.

One of the smartest and brightest people I ever served with in government was the late Heyward Belser. He was so much the intellectual that most of us couldn’t keep up with him or even understand him.

At one point, Belser ran for lieutenant governor in the Democrat’s primary. Notwithstanding any of the attributes of other candidates, I’m convinced that he wasn’t more successful in that race because he was too brilliant and the brilliance showed in his speeches. His delivery was lacking when it came to relating to most people.

There are some who believe Sarah Palin isn’t very bright because of her delivery style, which includes smiling and winking. My point is not whether she is or is not bright but how we judge folks.

We should not judge or base our decisions on smiles, hair color, ethnicity, age or other such factors.

Forty years ago, there were many who thought I didn’t know much because of my age. Most definitely, there were some things I didn’t know. Now I’m 61, and there are still things I don’t know.

Lack of knowledge on some subjects is true for every human being, regardless of age, ethnicity, facial expressions, religion or education.

Or hair color.

*                        *                       *                          *

I'm Shrinking!

I’m shrinking!


Now that sounds like something I ought to be excited about, doesn’t it?

Well, it might sound that way but, the truth is, I am NOT ecstatic.

This shrinking has nothing to do with weight. After all, over my lifetime, I’ve probably lost a hundred pounds or so. You know: gain a bunch, lose a few, gain some more, lose a few, gain a lot more, lose a few – and so it goes.

My weight isn’t exactly right on my driver’s license. Perhaps I’ve fudged a little on the weight. No, that’s not exactly right. There’s no “perhaps” about it; I’ve definitely fudged – more than a little. But I have never fudged on my height.

Of course I’ve known for a long time that I’m not tall enough for my weight.

Which brings me back to shrinking.

I was at the doctor’s office last week and, as is typical, I was weighed. Then the nurse asked me for my height. I responded, as I usually do, that I wasn’t tall enough for all of those pounds but that I was probably 5’4” or maybe only 5’3 ½”.

So she said, “Well, let’s find out, okay?”

And so we did.

You just can’t fathom how shocked I was when she smilingly announced that I am only 5’1 ½” tall. Where did those other two or two-and-a-half inches go?

I’m thinking that I’m shrinking

That means I’m not getting taller

I’m thinking if you’re blinking

You might miss me: I’m smaller.

~    ~    ~    ~    

WW: Why Is This Man's Photo on My Blog?

Every Wednesday in the blogging world, many bloggers participate in either Wordless Wednesday or Wordful Wednesday.  It's very difficult for me to be "wordless." 

I know, I know.  A picture is supposed to be worth a thousand words.  But I like to talk, and I like to 'splain things.

Today I'm doing more of a Wordful Wednesday than a Wordless Wednesay 'cause this picture needs some 'splaining.

Earlier this week, I mentioned both good and bad experiences with on-line dating. There were few details about those experiences, which spanned almost two decades, off and on.


One thing that always turned me off was the profile information that sounded trite or fake. Do you know how many men say they like holding hands while walking on the beach, or sitting in front of a fireplace with a special someone, or enjoying candlelight and romantic dinners? And most contend to be strong, handsome and athletic.

Those profiles are a dime a dozen.

Having grown up in a different time with far-different rules, I’ve always been hesitant to be the first to make contact with a potential date. It took a long time for me to overcome that hesitancy, but I finally did – sort of. I still proceeded with caution - if I ever made the first contact.

Not long ago, though, I came across a profile that was quite different. I wasn’t looking to date the guy but just wanted to let him know how refreshing his profile was.

There was one particular sentence that really caught my attention. This man said he liked to play golf but was only allowed on the golf course when they needed the earth moved around!!!

Here was a man with a sense of humor. This was someone who could laugh at himself. How refreshing!

And I told him so.

And then, he responded.

And now we’re getting married! Actually, not “now” but in a few weeks – on June 6th.

Did all of this happen rather quickly? Oh, yes, most definitely.

But, once you reach this age, it’s risky to put off anything you really want to do. 

Besides, at our ages, we both know what we like and what we don't like, what we should expect and what we shouldn't, what to overlook and what not to overlook. 

And this is why there’s a picture up above of Karl J. Duppstadt. I’ll be writing about him from time to time, including sharing more later this week.

So, now that you’ve been introduced to “Dupp,” come on back to find out more about him. The Duppster is a very special person, whether you need the earth moved around or not! 

One thing is certain: he moves the earth under me.


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More Wordful Wednesday participants are here.
More Wordless Wednesday participants are here.

Just Got a Phone Call - Guess Who?

Just got a phone call from Joe Wilson. 

Yes, THAT Joe Wilson.  The congressman who yelled "You lie" - the yell heard 'round the world.

He is actually a long-time friend.  (More about our friendship of several decades HERE.)

Joe called to remind me that he had been reprimanded before, or perhaps chastised is a better word. 

It was back in 1970, back in the "ancient days" when we both were younger.  At that time here in South Carolina, our political party was small although growing fast, but small enough that we nominated by convention rather than by primary.  Also at that time, the minimum voting age was still 21.

In February of that year, I announced as a candidate for the SC House of Representatives.  I was a junior in college and only 20 years old, not yet old enough to vote, although I would turn 21 eight days before the election in November. 

Joe is the one who made the nominating speech for me at our county's political convention.  He did a great job. 

In his phone call today, Joe reminded me that he was chastised, fussed at, berated, etc. after his nominating speech.  Didn't he know I couldn't win? he was asked.  Didn't he know I wasn't old enough to vote?  And, worse yet, didn't he know I was a girl?  

Thanks to Joe and hundreds of other brave, energetic volunteers, we pulled through and won the election.

A lot has happened in the ensuing years, but some things haven't changed.  Joe is still getting fussed at, and I'm still a girl, although a much older one.

News Clipping from February 1970

Celebrate Being Old???????

It’s not so bad getting being old after all.

There are several known benefits, like senior citizens’ discounts, some starting at the age of 50! In this economy, I enjoy a discount no matter what it’s called.

It’s the unwritten plusses, though, that are the best.

See, it used to be that when I forgot something, somebody would ask accusatory questions: “How in the world could you forget about that?” “Why would you let that slip your mind?” “Wasn’t that important enough for you to remember?”

Now, my forgetfulness is forgiven dismissed because of my senior status.

Being older old gets a person out of lot of work opportunities. Project leaders and committee chairs don’t expect as much out of or from older folks. Those in their 20s, 30s and even 40s are expected to pick up the slack when work needs to be done. Older volunteers are warmly welcomed and appreciated, but don’t have to feel guilty for not seizing every opportunity to help out.

Having senior status explains a lot of behavior – for men and for women. “Look at that crazy old driver – changing lanes without using a blinker!” “Did you see what he was wearing? Poor ol’ thing can’t see well enough to match his clothes!” “Do you think she knows she has her housecoat on in the grocery store?” (I stand in the shower, soaking wet, wondering if I just got in or if I was getting out.)

And being old means you don’t have to prove everything. For example, suppose I’m watching Michael Phelps in competitive swimming. I can say, “I used to be able to do that” – and, at this age, no one will force me to prove it. Anybody listening can either believe me or chalk it up to hallucination or senility.

Today (October 1st) is International Day of Older Persons. What a good reason to celebrate!

It's Time for a Fake I.D.

I think it’s time to get a fake ID.
Yep, one of those cards – like teenagers get when they want to pretend they are 18 or 21 or some other age. My reasons are different, though.


I was at a grocery store the other day. It was a chain that I don’t shop in much any more, but I was out of town and this one was close. I couldn’t find my old “frequent buyer” card, so I went to the customer service counter to get a new one. Like most people, I wanted to save a few cents here and there on purchases.


The lady at the counter had two stacks of papers. One was the application for the card; the second was the card application for senior citizens. She glanced at me and, without speaking a word, she handed me the senior citizens’ application!

The lady could have been at least gracious enough to ask if I qualified as a senior citizen, but, no, she just took one look – one look that said, “Oh, yeah, you’re old.”


The age qualification for senior citizen status varies from place to place. Some use 55 or 60; others might use 62, 65, 70 or even as young as 50.

By this particular store’s standards, I am NOT a senior citizen. Did you see the word “not”? I am NOT a senior citizen. Okay, so I will be in two months. That does not mean I want someone to glance at me and assume that I am.


There are definite advantages to being a senior citizen. There are discounts involved at many places.

So, why in the world would I want a fake ID? After all, the reason for the card is to save money.


Well, see, if I get an ID card that indicates I’m 80 or 85, I’d show it – and hope people would say, “Oh, wow, you really look good for 85!”


Hey, you get this age, you work for compliments any way you can get ‘em!