A working knowledge of science and "lower" math is so helpful in life.
I am 52-years-old. That means that I have also been 22-years-old. If you have not yet experienced both, believe me when I tell you that 52 is not 22. In fact, the two ages barely speak the same language.
Here are just a few examples of how the same words can mean entirely different things depending on your age:
The Law of Gravity
- at 22: g = 9.81 m/s2
- at 52: For every Spanx Booty-Booster Bodysuit (with the Lycra-Lift-&-Separate-Posterior-Panel), there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Highlights
- at 22: blonde streaks in the hair caused by the sun; enhanced by the application of a little lemon juice.
- at 52: blonde streaks in the hair caused by the hairdresser; enhanced by the application of Clairol Nice & Easy Frost & Tip in Lemon Blonde.
Tan
- at 22: a honey-gold tint to the skin acquired by spending time in the sun.
- at 52: why, oh why did 22-year-old me not listen to all that crap about sunscreen?
Period of mourning
- at 22: A time of grief following the death of a loved one.
- at 52: A time of grief following shopping for bathing suits. Aka: summer.
Retirement
- at 22: Something that old people do when they stop working
- at 52: Something that I will never be able to do because of all the old people who have stopped working.
Party Hearty
- at 22: Friday night: Dance and drink until 2 in the morning, then spend the rest of the night in front of the toilet.
- at 52: Friday night: Dine and drink until 2 glasses of wine, then spend the rest of the night in front of the TV (in my jammies).
Hot
- at 22: My toned, tan, tight self.
- at 52: My sweaty, red, menopausal self.
The Future
- at 22: A bright and shining highway of possibilities, stretching endlessly before me.
- at 52: A highway constantly under construction, subject to 10-car pileups and unplanned detours. While away the travel time singing along with the radio, talking and laughing (pick travel buddies carefully). Frequent stops to pay tolls and use the Rest Areas. Occasional emergency stops on the shoulder for crying or speculating on the road not taken.
Peg-o-Leg's Ramblings 
Wow, you had a way better 22 than I did!
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It’s possible that I just have a way worse memory.
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Ha…I’ll be 62. With some wonderful news we received yesterday, 62 will be a grand year too.
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Good for you! So glad things are going well in Georgetteville.
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Can you be Freshly Pressed so soon after the last time?
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I think so!
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Nope. 😦
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Sad, but true. However, I was pregnant when I was 22 so my waist is smaller now:) I am also 52 and love being an empty nesters.
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Pregnant-waist measurements don’t count, cuz you snap (most of the way) back after the birth. This 52-year-old tummy isn’t going anywhere!
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I’m still young enough that when I tell women my age it pisses them off BUT I can say I was in the whale phase of pregnancy at 22. I like to think those giant stretchy pants never happened 🙂
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Oh no! When I was 18 I stayed with my grandparents in their senior condo in Florida for the summer. When I’d go to the pool to do laps, the old ladies would stand at the side of the water and glare at me because I was young and looked good in a bikini. I don’t want to be one of those jealous old women! THanks for reminding me, Tori. And I’m sure you rocked the whale pants anyway.
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Well, yeah, maybe (especially the “Party hearty”), but I wouldn’t want to go back, would you?
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I don’t know. Only if I would get to bring my 52-year-old brain with me.
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hahaha I love this, I was going to say what Lorna’s Voice commented there.
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I don’t really want to go back, I just want that body back. Is that too much to ask???
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My 22 and your 22 didn’t exactly match, but I’m already with you on at least half things things, at 34. I’m not sure what that particular equation equals out to… so I just say “screw it” and enjoy now. Hope I still do later!
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At 34 I was too busy with 2 little kids to do more than try to hang on. Maybe one of the benefits of 52 is time for introspection (and complaining!)
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laughing all the way to 56……
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That’s the right attitude! May I borrow it?
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All yours…..joyful abandon included at no extra cost!
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I had to abandon the joyful abandon a couple of years ago – back trouble.
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I get to cling to the last vestiges of my 40s for a few more days, so I’m going to pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about. Although I notice that you mentioned “old people” without saying how the definition of that phrase has changed.
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“Old people” is a moving target, loosely defined as people at least 15 years older than me. The definition may be problematic when I’m 90, but I’ll deal with that then.
Happy vestige clinging!
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“Now time turns the pages
And oh, life goes so fast.
The years turn the black hair all grey.
I talked to some young folks,
Hey they don’t understand
The words this old man’s got to say.
I wish I was eighteen again,
And going where I’ve never been.
But old folks and old oaks
Standing tall, just pretend.
I wish I was eighteen again.
Lord, I wish I was eighteen again!”
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Lovely and sad. Who sang it?
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George Burns. When he did it live, it really was something.
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Thank God I’m only 51.
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A mere baby, totally clueless about any of this nonsense.
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Hilarious! And, apparently, I am 52 at heart. Seriously, I have undergarments I’ve nicknamed my ‘scuba suits,’ which I wear when I’m not in my PJs on a Friday night.
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Scuba suits? Because they’re skin tight? Because you like to swim in your underwear?
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From my very wise vantage point of 59 years, I do believe you nailed this one. Very funny!
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I hope you’re about to tell me gravity reverses itself at 55, right?
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Funny, Peg, if it wasn’t also quite sad. The joys of aging and trying to do so gracefully and with humor. Here we go…
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I’ve decided against aging gracefully. I’m going to be that ridiculous cougar with her skirt up to here and boobs down to there, trolling for young, hot studs (50-year-olds) at the local bar. What do you think?
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Well, since you’re such a hotty now, as long as the Rooster doesn’t mind, I say, Go For It! 🙂 Just kiddin…you don’t want any diseases at this stage of life!
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Ewww. What a disgusting picture you paint, o sister of mine. Maybe I’ll hang out at the bingo hall instead.
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Very funny, especially the comment about retirement-laughed out loud.MKC
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Now that part really is sad. There won’t be any Social Security money left when we get there; you know that, right? Maybe I’ll start a new business (the oldest business in the world) for young guys who like old gals:. The Best Little Resthome In Texas.
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Thank you so much for including the scientific theory in this post, I know understand what is starting to happen to my a$#% !
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This kind of science isn’t pretty, but the laws of nature will have their way. Sigh.
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I don’t know who modeled for the graphic but she sure knows how to carry the ratio of the adjacent side to the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle.
Funny post, you 52-year old whippersnapper.
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I console myself with the thought that the Spanx model has GOT to be digitally enhanced – nobody’s got a hypotenuse like that, right?
Thanks,Gramps!
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Nice to know what I have to look forward to! *sigh*
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Not YOU, Amy. None of the laws of physics will apply to YOU.
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At thirty I could go out dancing and partying on a Thursday night, because I only had to get through Friday. At sixty, I need to be in bed extra early on Thursday night, because I have to get through Friday.
At thirty I wore long sleeves because my arms were so skinny. At sixty I wear long sleeves because my arms…
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Stop right there, sister, you’re singing to the choir!
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Just remember 2 things my Dad used to say:
“Old is always 15 years older than I am.” and
“Every day above ground is a good day.”
I especially like that 2nd one.
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Your dad sounds like a pretty smart guy – I totally agree!
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Also, 42 is not 32. I had children later in life than most, so the majority of the parents of my kids peers are about 10 years younger than I. What a difference in energy & stamina 10 years makes. There is a reason God planned for young adults to have kids…
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You’re so right. I have friends (a little older) who are raising up their grandkids for various reasons, and it takes enormous energy – really more than they have at this point, but you do what you have to.
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Spanx should come with a warning label. That “equal and opposite reaction” can be deadly…to innocent bystanders.
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I was thinking about the fact that the acceleration due to gravity, 10 m/s squared (I really still remember that from high school, by the way) is more than enough to overcome the super lycra of Spanx so that my bottom continues its downward trend.
But you’re right about Spanx’ safety risks. When it squishes your fat in, the resulting super-muffin-top of displaced fat could cause a sparetire blowout as deadly as any on the highway.
I love all this science stuff. And people said this blog was merely fluff!
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Boy did you nail it. But here’s the thing, about mid-way through the post I remembered a conversation I had with a 20 year old. We were talking about how it drove him CRAZY that old people (55+) forgot things, how slow they walked when they were in front of him, and how they liked to stand in the middle of grocery store aisles and visit.
Yep. Guilty as charged. But I kept looking at him thinking, I wouldn’t go back and repeat the lessons it took to get to 55.
Hugs from your fat-bottomed, gray-streaked, friend who falls asleep after one beer…but as you so aptly once said, “Hey, I know stuff.”
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Did he really say old as in 55??? That’s what’s wrong with the world – the next generation has no respect! I hope you schooled that boy right quick, Barb.
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On the bright side, two glasses of wine and an evening in your jammies is way better than a night in front of the toilet. Right? (RIGHT???)
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When you’re right, you’re right.
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Party Hearty, bang on! that was totally me at 22!
now at 40, and after reading this post, i think i have a lot to look forward to eh? trying to stay positive here:-)
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I considered trying to stay positive, but I realized it will never work. 🙂
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Hilarious! I’m only 36 yet can relate to so much here. Like, how in the world did I once get wasted and then study and attend classes for six hours? I have two drinks now and I’m as good as dead.
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That is a necessary life skill in college that we seem to lose right quick, don’t we? I needed to take a licensing exam about 15 years out of college and I thought “I’ll just pull an all-nighter like I always did.” I literally fell asleep in the test. Had to hand it in half-done and tell them not to bother to grade it – I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
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Thank you. I stopped in because I’m in a sour mood and figured your blog might cheer me up. It worked. I laughed, and I can’t thank you enough.
I was hot at 22. I was also insecure, needy, clingy, manipulative, and couldn’t make a right choice if someone handed me one. Now I’m 51 and no longer hot. However, I am fairly secure in my un-hotness, and no longer give enough of a crap to be needy, clingy or manipulative. And every now and then I choose a salad over the whopper. I’m growing up. Thanks again for the laugh.
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Sounds like you’ve found some benefits that outweigh the ravages of gravity – good for you! Take it easy on those salads, though. Too much roughage is tough on our aging digestive systems. (Thanks for stopping in and for the kind words.)
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Peg, as always, this is a perfect then-now piece. 🙂 I especially enjoyed your last comparison, with the bright open highway to the one full of road blocks and pileups. You have a knack for taking a subject and running away with it, until us readers are left breathlessly following along. And laughing the whole way. Well done!
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Well, thank you! Reading through this piece, I do seem to concentrate on the negative, but I don’t see myself as a negative person. I guess I find the pitfalls in life tend to be funnier.
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Wow, it sounds like you had a pretty fun life when you were 22!
If memory serves me correctly (and sometimes it doesn’t), at 22 I had 2 kids in diapers, lived in a basement suite, didn’t have a car and … well, you get the picture. All in all, I’d have to say my 52 was a bit more like your 22!
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I used to wish we’d started our family a little younger, but then I think I’d regret not being able to live it up as a young adult. Maybe it’s 6 of one, half-dozen of the other.
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Finally, reality speaks. Can I bet you also won’t be trying to tell us brown is the new black? 🙂
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Dang! Scrapping THAT blog idea!
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