Clint Eastwood at the grand age of 84 has just directed his first musical. Yes I’m a big fan of his. His westerns are the only westerns I will watch, and watch again, and some more. You get my drift? I like him.
I also like Morgan Freeman and that wonderful voice of his. Casting him as God in Bruce Almighty was, in my mind, pure genius. Because I think if we were ever to catch a glimpse of a God, Morgan Freeman would be him.
But, this is not just a post about my adoration of male actors that I like and admire.
I was reading in the Observer this morning about how scientists are now of the opinion, that our creativity and subsequent achievements in this area are not hindered by the onset of old age. This warms the cockles of my middle-aged heart; because today I feel and am moving about like a 93-year-old, but my creativity is outstanding. I’ve actually managed to make the bed and wash a pot up, rather artistically.
The amazing Mr Eastwood is being used as an example of a still – productive and active pensioner, with his own teeth and hair. Other celebrities named include Robert Redford,[another favourite of mine, in the fantastic Out of Africa] and Maggie Smith.
Conductors of orchestras also seem to be long-lived, as it’s been suggested that all of that baton swinging increases the blood circulation to the brain. Yes, I’ve often wondered about Andre Previn! I will be at it with the rolling-pin, later on! The mind boggles,well mine does anyway!
I wonder how many of us are becoming increasingly aware of the clock ticking away at the side of us? It used to be way off, to the back of us somewhere and not always audible. Now the damn thing is right next to us, sounding louder than ever. It hasn’t overtaken us yet and thank god, because that would probably mean game over.
But, I’m not on here to be gloomy and doomy about, what is a normal part of life. I’m an optimist, albeit a 93-year-old one today.[True, sometimes I need to kick myself up the bottom, to kick-start the optimism again, if it’s momentarily stalled.] I think that we’re always learning and that some things are best left until later. How else can you write that mind-blowing novel if you haven’t lived and had the experience to pen it? Or at least developed the confidence to enable you to actually dare to do it.
I think that sometimes youth is mistaken as being the best part of our lives. Yes, it’s good and we probably don’t appreciate it when we have it. I know I didn’t. Plans were put on hold until the dim and distant future. It could all wait. Well, that future is growing increasingly nearer and it’s time to put those plans into action right now!
No, I can’t do cartwheels around the field, when I take the dog and no, I can’t ride the dodgem cars at the fair anymore, because I can no longer turn my head too quickly, otherwise I hit the deck rather sharply. Yes, passing out has become my new party trick.
But, now I have the patience to prat about with a painting for hours on end and I can fiddle fart [did I just say PRAT and FART? No I’m not sorry, I’m middle-aged!] around with my writing. Choosing just the right typos to slot in, at the appropriate time.
Whereas before, I would have been mortified about the stupid mistakes I make on a daily basis, I now just laugh them off. I’m not sure if that is a sign of getting older and wiser, or of becoming more nuts as I go along?
I don’t see the point in fretting about things like I used to. But I if I do fret, the fretting is over and done with a lot quicker. The fretting time is done to perfection. Get it? No, I don’t either. Let’s have a laugh about it!
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I’m going to age disgracefully, wear purple and write erotica.[I’m actually on with this part of my getting old, now.] Then at least I will get a bit of excitement, as I try to rock myself frantically in my rocking chair.[I’ve got one of those too. But it isn’t a Shackletons. I’m not getting on a bit just yet! I’m so sorry…I appear to be making smarmy, suggestive comments. That’ll be my age!] I might be too old to do anything about it, but the imagination will still be young and naughty! The shock of it will probably finish me off…but what a way to go, hey? THE BEST WAY. YES PLEASE!
Are you young at heart? Are you still young? If so, don’t take any notice of us old codgers, scare-mongering. It’s all lies, until the day it isn’t.
So, this is another piece of mind-numbing rubbish that serves no purpose whatsoever to you. Except, it probably will depress you for a few days, as you realise that you are going to die one day. Sorry about that…but it happens. Get over it. Well, no you actually won’t. You’ll be sort of dead.
You’d best get on with writing that book, painting that picture, sewing your knickers and digging that big hole in your back garden, before it’s too late! That bloody big ticking clock is catching you up, now. RUN VERY FAST. It’ll still catch you.
I’m off to finalise my sexy funeral plans now. Have you seen pallbearers wearing leather? No, me neither. I think it’d look good. Purple leather, of course!
I’ll be back on here at some point to despair, over another blog post to go in the book. This book is getting bigger and bigger!
Until the next older time.
A middle-aged woman going on about this and that!
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