Sunday, October 17, 2010

In Search of...surefire ways to know you're old

Oh, I know what you're thinking - must you bum me out, Ilene, when I came here for a little relief from my daily grind? Well, maybe. But rest assured, I won't be giving you one of those atrocious lists that goes something like "You know you're old when..."

So there I was, in the basement of Sofia's Restaurant in the theatre district, the former home to Tony n' Tina's Wedding for many years, watchng Jan Brady (Eve Plumb) in a two person show. She looked good, by my standards if not Hollywood's, seemingly untouched by plastic surgery, and happy to be there. Never mind that it was off-Broadway, or that she forgot her lines several noticable times. Never mind that we were sitting in the basement of a restaurant, for goodness sake! It was depressing, and the fact that I couldn't read the Playbill because we were too cramped for me to reach my reading glasses didn't make matters any better.

And then there's Rick Springfield. He's been on all the talk shows promoting his new memoir which chronicles his attempted suicide, ongoing battle with depression, marital infidelities and God knows what else. (I haven't read the book yet.) And he's in his sixties. Rick Springfield. Dr. Noah Drake. In his sixties. I think I may need a Prozac myself.

And has anyone seen any of those Waltons kids? How about Eight is Enough? I'm a little scared. It's bad enough Mick Jagger is still bopping around. Frankly, I'm surprised he hasn't needed a hip replacement. Although, what do I know? Maybe he did.

And last night, while watching Golden Girls reruns, because, yes, that's what I do when nothing else is on, I realized that three out of four of the golden girls are dead. Dead definitely trumps old.

So before I go off to take stock of my joint pain and where I left my bifocals, I thought I'd take stock of what I'm thankful for. In this era of tell-all memoirs and knowing a little too much about people, I'm thankful for the blissful ignorance I had until now that allowed me to enjoy innocent fare like The Brady Bunch when I was a kid. I'm thankful for all those actors and musicians who were slightly older than me that sacrificed their own childhood and in doing so made mine joyful and happy. I wish those who have been troubled, but who have still managed to remain alive (Danny Bonaduce), remaining years of peace, stability, and sobriety. Actually, come to think of it, I wish us all peace, stability, and sobriety, whether you need the 12 steps or not.

I wish you all good memories and great days ahead. Thanks for stopping by.

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