I was rereading some of my posts the other day (as I often do when I’m supposed to be working on a big presentation or a tax return) and I came across one of my favorites. I remember how excited I was when I wrote it. My finger trembled as I hit “publish” because, false modesty aside, I knew it was one of the best things I’d ever written. I kept checking my stats page that morning, hoping…no, I’ll say it – expecting to see the sudden jump in hits that heralds a Freshly Pressed post.
But it never happened.
As I reread that post, alternately laughing out loud at my cleverness and stewing in my own bile at the no-FP injustice, it occurred to me that I’m probably not alone. I bet most bloggers have one post that had them thinking, “THIS One Should Have Been Freshly Pressed”
Welcome to a new feature on Peg-o-Leg’s Ramblings.
I’ve asked some of my blogging buddies to select their best, overlooked posts. I had to twist some arms to get them to admit they thought their stuff was worthy of the coveted FP because, while most of these people are way more talented than I, they’re also a lot more modest. I plan to run a post by a different blogger every Wednesday. Be sure to check in to see some of the best material around the interwebz.
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We’re starting things off with a bang with Renee at Life In The Boomer Lane. Renee uses warmth and humor to talk about life in general, and life over 50 (55? 60? 65?) in particular. She is the co-author of two books. Her blog’s subtitle is “Musings of a former hula hoop champion.” While I’ve never seen any actual hula-hoopla over at her place, what I have seen is good writing. Lots of good writing.
THIS one should have been Freshly Pressed, for sure.
Why I’d Rather Be 65 Than 5, 15, 25, 35, 45, or 55
Age 5: I was Raggedy Ann to Neil Fishbein’s Raggedy Andy in the end-of-year school show. I loved Neil and he loved me. This would seem to set me up for a lifetime of bliss (talk about “getting old together”) but, the day ended tragically. My fake braids smeared my heavy white theatrical face paint into a pretty close approximation of the Dawn of the Dead. Neil’s family moved to another neighborhood. Tragically, because he was five years old, he was forced to go with them. It would be eight years before I would see him again. By then, we would have each gone our separate ways.
Age 15: This was a year of anguish, followed by terror. Anguish that no boy would ever ask me to go steady, terror that one actually did. I agitated all night, called him in the morning, told him I couldn’t go steady with him. He said “Oh, OK.” Like it didn’t matter anyway.
Age 25: Married, just out of grad school, one year into my first special ed teaching job. Life was great, if you consider having a classroom of potential Jeffrey Dahmers great. I spent a lot of time crying in the bathroom and reassessing my career choice.
Age 35: A two-year-old, a six-year-old, a seven-year-old, a job as a realtor. I spent a lot of time screaming at my kids, “Hey! If people had personal computers and someone invented blogs and then invented mommy blogs, I would have an outlet for all this! I could write about you kids all day long and people would laugh their guts out and subscribe and comment and I could watch my stats all day and dream about being Freshly Pressed! ” And the kids yelled back “If there were computers, you’d be running to us all day to answer your questions and fix your problems. And if you had a blog you wouldn’t know how to do anything but put a stupid old timey photo at the top.”
Age 45: Then Husband and I separated. I bought a house. The real estate market went into the crapper, and with it, my income. I used heat sparingly (the plants flourished), didn’t eat out, served the kids Hot Pockets for dinner, and never went on vacation. I spent some time crying in the bathroom, reassessing my life choices.
Age 55: I was selling a lot of real estate, running a speed dating company, and being too busy to notice that I was divorced and living alone with a cat. When Now Husband came along, he was attracted to my being far too busy to want a permanent relationship. In retaliation, I sold the speed dating company the following year.
Age 65: The kids are grown and have survived sibling mayhem, parental divorce, and too many dinners of Hot Pockets. They are, remarkably, pretty remarkable adults. They chose significant others who are also their best friends. They love their jobs, their friends, and the cities they live in. My daughter has two children and she emulates only the best of my parenting, while leaving out the stuff we won’t talk about.
Now Husband jokingly tells people that his main activity in life is to make me happy. Except he isn’t joking. And he assumes all men must be hot for me. I laugh when he says that, although the real truth is that I can still turn heads.
I hate that my body moves more slowly than it used to, that when I roll over in bed, my back hurts, that sex is accomplished in mostly one position, that photos of myself scare me, that I can no longer run up and down the stairs or sit in a pretzel position on the floor or reach way under the bed to grab something. I hate that reaching way down into the crib to pick up my grandson must be planned like a military operation . I hate that my memory fails at the oddest times, that I am beginning to lose a grip on pop culture, that I think a lot about being home in bed with a book when I am out in the evening. I hate that people in charge can look younger than my children.
I love that I own my age. I love that I embrace the years, each and every one. I love that two friends and I decided to write a book and we did. And then we wrote another. I love that we have been so fortunate to have spoken to countless people and that they have shared their dreams with us and inspired us and made us grateful every day for the community of women.
I love that I am funny and that I can see the absurdities of life. I love that I can laugh so hard in public that I pee in my pants, preparing me for the time when I will pee in my pants without the aid of humor. I love that I am silly and irreverent and can still embarrass the hell out of my children. I love that my kid’s friends seem to actually enjoy my company. I love that I am still fifteen inside, but without the fear of boys.
I love that life is finite but vision is infinite. I love that I have been thinking about making a 20 year plan and I have declared that the next twenty years will be the most powerful period of my life. I love that my plan scares me. In a good way.
Saturday, May 5, is the day. Happy 65th Birthday to me. Go celebrate amongst yourselves.
Peg-o-Leg's Ramblings 
Yep, great post. And yes, on more than one occasion I have thought “Surely THIS will be the one that is Freshly Pressed”…
They can’t possibly read all the posts every day though can they, so there must be a certain amount of luck involved about the timing of when we happen to write our best pieces!
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Thanks Vanessa-Jane. If anyone could figure out how posts were chosen, they could win the Nobel Prize. Or maybe the Pulitzer. Or something.
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Fabulous! Better than Freshly Pressed!
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Ah, shucks, she says with fake modesty. But this really is some kind of vindication, isn’t it? Say it is, please.
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Yup. Totally is.
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I remember this one – dang, it really SHOULD have been FP’d, Renee!
Peg, this series is da bomb diggity doo. Do you mind if I send you 17, or possibly 34, posts?
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Hey Jules, I’ve got at least 125 behind this one. You’ll have to fight me for it.
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I may never write another post myself!
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I remember this one, too. And I am enjoying 45 so much more than 35 or 25. But 21? Um, I would do 21 again. Holy shizzlesticks. I ended up with a boy in my bed. And he was so fine. I will carry that memory with me forever.
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Wow, all I got at 21 was the right to drink. And I hated the taste of alcohol.
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Love this post. I’m 25 right this second and still mostly a dufus. I am anxiously awaiting some wisdom about the big stuff and some peace about the little things!
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Tori, you are so far ahead of the curve, it’s amazing. I still can’t believe you are so young. Damn.
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Oh my Jeezus! A classroom of potential Jeffery Dahmers! I just laughed till my eyes peed!!!
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Might be one of the best compliments (as well as the best visual’s I’ve ever heard) I’ve ever gotten. I thank you.
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Love this post! I will have a bigger birthday in April and am looking forward to it. It is funny to me that so many are in fear of aging while they hope to have a long life. It kind of goes hand in hand.
I am going to my Dad’s 87th Birthday party on Friday. Life is good!
Should have been Freshly Pressed!
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Thanks, Susie. Aging is way scarier than sticking your head inside a crocodile’s mouth. On the other hand, it’s not as bad as first smearing your head with peanut butter before you do it. It’s sort of somewhere in between. Happy Birthday to your Dad. And yes, life is good.
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I will stay away from the peanut butter! Thanks! I will pass that along!
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Great post and awesome feature, Peg! (So being Pegly Pressed *is* a possibility now. How fabulous!) I was actually reading through some of my old posts last night as well, and I thought to myself ‘Dang it! Where were the FP editors when I truly needed them? I was on fi-yah!’ (Or something along those lines. Let’s pretend I was more modest than that…)
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I’ll pretend that if you pretend that Peg had to twist my arm to get me to send her my post.
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I remember this one too — brilliant. And it shudda been. It really shudda been Freshly Pressed.
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Thanks, Elyse!
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I don;t remember this one – but I will now–and you make me feel much better about a birthday of mine that is coming up in April that I have not been looking forward to — and yes, this should have be FP’d–but then so should some of mine
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If you’d like, I can send you this post on a stick-on tattoo that you can wear on your arm. Or a keychain. How about a potholder. Happy April Birthday.
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Potholder sounds good — just the main points though!
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Great post, Renee, and thank you Peg for reposting. I thought by the time I was 40 I’d have my life figured out. Renee gives me hope that maybe, just maybe by the time I’m 65, I’ll know.
(I’ve never been Freshly Pressed. I hear the angels start singing and sunlight shines from the heavens. True, or urban myth?)
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I’m still waiting to figure out my life. Yes, angels start singing and sunlight shines from the heavens. This lasts until you realize that the singing angels and sunlight shining from the heavens have completely distracted you and you miss your stop and are late for work and the boss fires you and you end up living in a cardboard box on the street. Aside from that, it’s amazing.
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But that lose-the-job thing is OK because the WordPress ad revenues more than make up for that. Right, Renee? Right?
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Uh, speaking of ads, what’s with the ads on your site? I think the only companies that would want to advertise on my site would be Spanx and Depends.
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Yeah, I signed up for those thinking my financial ship had come in. I think you have to have 5 gazillion hits to get paid so I haven’t actually seen a penny. Not one. Wanna buy some life insurance, Renee?
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Only if you buy a house in Virginia.
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What a great idea and a great post. What I find so funny is that when I and others I know were FP’d, it wasn’t the post we thought would get it. But I was still glad nonetheless! I bet one of your Wednesday features ends up there. 😉
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That was my case, as well. Each time I was FP’d, I’d think “Huh? Whaa–?” Except that’s basically my reaction to life in general.
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The only way I will ever get Fresh Pressed, is to drive to town early in the morning, drop ’em off, and then pick ’em up after five on Friday.
Easy on the starch.
DS
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This was seriously funny. I’d nominate you for FP for that comment, alone.
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Oh my. This was indeed worthy of getting squished flat. Much the shame that the powers that be missed this one, but our good fortune that it was shared here today.
But of course, this brilliant post is making me really reconsider the one I gave Peg for my own shoulda been. Yikes, I think I might need to step up my game.
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Don’t say that. You post is probably amazing. But, if not, for a large sum of money, I can sell you this one and maybe Peg won’t notice.
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What a great idea Peg-o-Leg! And a characteristically fabulous post by Renee.
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Me, jumping in here to accept all accolades. Many thanks, Lunar, and it really is terrific of Peg to be doing this.
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Peg-O – You’re batting 1000 so far. Life in the Boomer Lane’s post had it all. It’s hard to believe that some lame scone recipe could beat that out.
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I want to make a scathing remark here about scones, but I’m afraid I will hear from rabid scone-lovers.
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I aint got nothing against some nice, dense scones, but I will never accept a recipe for them as a substitute for a well written blog.
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Amen, brotha! I know, I don’t know you well enough to be so casual, but, I TOTALLY agree with your comment!
Kudos to my fabulous sister for initiating the Peggy-Pressed award. Isn’t that what’s going on? Huh? What? OK, let me know…
It’s all good, because I get to enjoy so many talented bloggers through this venue! 🙂
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Whoa now. This is a scone-friendly blog right here. In fact, give me your tired, your chocolate cherry chip scones, yearning to be eaten…
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Great post and definitely press-worthy. And yes, the 20s suck. They suck big time.
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I look at photos of myself back then, and think, in spite of how I felt at the time, that I was drop dead gorgeous. Then I get happy because I figure that 40 years from now, I will look at photos of myself today and think the same thing. All this has nothing to do with your comment but I just wanted to say it.
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Wonderful idea Peg-o-Leg!
Fabulous post. A real celebration of life. If I could get out of this pretzel position on the floor I’d give a standing ovation….How about a gold star instead? They’re in the drawer over there somewhere, I forget….
But Fresh Pressed shouldn’t forget to pic this post!
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Thanks, Mouse. And funny. Tragically funny.
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I agree. This is one of the best posts and should definitely be FP! Hilarious and oh-so-true! 🙂
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Thanks! I’m trying to pitch them to QVC, printed on wall hangings. Several color choies, of course. Fingers crossed.
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Yes to all the above. I’ll be going over to Rene’s soon.
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Hurray! Hope you enjoy your visit.
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What’s the deal, W.P? Totally missed out! Maybe they’re just stuck in a pretzel position on the floor. I know that happens to me quite often. So, you know… loved it… and, um… send for help.
🙂
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I loved that you loved it. Don’t ask me to help, though. Bad back.
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How could I forget this one? Renee, you were robbed. I have to admit, pretty much every single one of your posts is FP-worthy. I hate you. But just a little. I love you much more!
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At the risk of this sounding like a mutual admiration society, which is exactly what it is, you are a terrific writer. If someone like you tells someone like me that everything I write is FP-worthy (which is so not true), I am humbled beyound belief. Or inflated beyond belief. I don’t know which way to go.
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I feel a group hug coming on. Kum-bay-a, my Lord, kum-bay-a!
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WordPress really is a big group hug, isn’t it? Except when all the other bloggers ruin my stats and “like”s and go on other people’s blogs, completely bypassing mine, and fawn all over them and then they have like 94 comments and I have 12. Aside from that, it’s a group hug.
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It is SO true, Renee. Now I am the one who is flattered beyond belief! Where does this circle of admiration end? Way too sweet, you are. (now I’ve lapsed into my Yoda-voice)
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Great post Renee from Life in the Boomer Lane! Definitely deserving of a freshly pressed honor. I wish WordPress would do better at running this fresh-press machine and looking for new talent!
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Pingback: 5:06 am. And Inspired. – Lead.Learn.Live.
Excellent post! Good writing! I turn 70 next month and am still looking forward to getting older, although not as much as I used to. I used to age like a dog walks, always wondering what was next, what was beyond the next bend in the road. Now I’m starting to fear the infirmities of old age and the possible operations and pain. But not so much as to make me unhappy. BTW — I think its much harder to get FP these days. A few years ago I was FP’ed twice in a couple of weeks. I think it was three times all together in a year or so. But there were way fewer WordPress bloggers then. Also I think your photo or illustration(s) in the post have a lot to do with getting pressed. In any case at 70 I’m glad to not be a freshly pressed virgin, or a virgin of any kind. (Ok I’m lots of kinds of virgins — never climbed a real mountain, deep sea dived, eat fire, ran a marathon — etc — but I think you know what I mean)
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I think it’s great that you’re still looking to lose your adventure virginity at almost 70. It speaks volumes that you’ve embraced the novelty of the blogosphere so completely. I can’t say I’m looking forward to getting older – more like running forward as a way to escape the cold breath of old age on the back of my neck.
Thanks for stopping by!
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My pleasure! (I was referred to your site by David Kanigan and his excellent Lead.Learn.Live site) Just to be honest I have no intention of losing my adventure virginity. Will not be doing any deep sea diving at all ever. I would like to make some really good photos and find a new gallery to represent me here on Cape Cod (we moved last year and I still don’t have the ties I need here). As far as adventure goes I;m dealing with a heath issue that is getting in the way. Finding the right medical solution to it is all the adventure I need right now.
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Thanks Frank, and good luck with your medical challenges. I’m heading over to check out David’s site now.
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A million dollar post (:
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Yeah. So about this post. There’s one thing wrong with it. You did it before I did. I’ll just say, “I wish I’d written that.” You and I think so much alike it’s scary. I always thought I was Erma’s love child. Perhaps she had two. I’ve been raising four kids for the past twenty-five years and have drawers, files, and notebooks ready to regurgitate funny tales should the day ever arrive that I have time during the dreaded empty nest years. Did I mention three of the kids are triplets? Those three and all their friends just left for college so I had put my blog on hold last year to spend every moment playing with them and all their buddies who practically lived in our house before THE SILENCE CAME. And the silence is here. I’m not crying like lots of the moms I know. I did that before they left. Now I’m overwhelmed at where to start with so many years of writing to type up and edit or should I write new, fresh pieces. So, I’m doing neither. I’m reading your blog and others and trying to decide which topic to focus on. I like to write about e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. How to choose? If you get a minute to check out my blog and have any thoughts to share, I’d appreciate it. I could help some people by doing health pieces as I’ve been a medical mystery forever and spent time at Mayo Clinic. Awesome place by the way. Or humor in topics like family life or aging or animal antics or triplet tales or menapause or oh my gosh. Writers block? What the heck is that? I have a kazillion stories running around in my noggin. Hope you had coffee.
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Ah Peg, I’ve missed your ramblings. I lost you when I changed blogs. Glad to have found you again. I’m looking forward to catching up on some of your great posts! xxx
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