Aging gracefully. I wonder who invented that phrase? Probably some Madison Avenue geek working for a cosmetics company.

Aging gracefully. If you believe the adverts on television, there are any number of potions, lotions, creams and notions that you can rub, smear, pat, smell, drink or otherwise ingest that will keep you looking and feeling as young and gorgeous (a matter of personal opinion) as that model whose face is currently in all the newspapers. You know the one, looks like a walking hat rack, has lips that put Mick Jagger to shame and who, in a few years time, will find being a hat rack unattractive and will have a boob enhancement, her tummy tucked and her butt lifted. Yes, we all want to look like her, don't we.

As we grow older, the Advertising Moguls think we grow mentally more feeble, I am sure. What else could explain the current spate of adverts I've seen recently. Two examples. An anti-aging face cream that contains... something new... something revolutionary... something our skin REALLY needs..... what do you think it could be?.... OXYGEN !!!! Ta Da... Yes. Oxygen. Enough said? The second one that makes me giggle. This cream comes in a tube with a nozzle.. you know, like one you would use to pipe decorations onto a cake. The manufacturers claim it is so you can "target" those annoying little frown lines between your eyes or at the corners of your mouth, etc., getting the cream right to the proper area. Target them? I'm not blind, for crying out loud. Even if I WERE blind I could still feel where those darn lines are, after all some of them are like the Grand Canyon. I could also still manage to put the cream on my finger and apply it to the area of my face where I could FEEL the lines. Unless, of course, I was falling down drunk, in which case I probably couldn't find my own behind with both hands despite its being the size of Idaho. Perhaps that's what the advertisers think? Perhaps, to the young and fresh out of school Ad Exec, aging is so foreign, so horrible to contemplate that they can't fathom us old fogies dealing with it in any way but by being drunk and feeble minded. I mean, why else would they try and sell us such products in such packaging?

My husband and I have found the one and only true secret to eternal youth. It doesn't come out of a jar or a tube. You don't rub it on or drink it or eat it. It's in your head. Age is a state of mind, not a number. You have to ignore your body, it will lie to you every time. Pick a year in your life that holds all the best times. A year when life was the best ever and totally stress free. It'll be different for everyone. Well almost everyone. Steve and I are both seven. Seven is a great age to be... young enough to still believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy and old enough to be a bit independent and KNOW things. That time of life when the world is still full of wonder, even a worm can be interesting. That time of life when almost everything is funny... even a fart.... especially a fart. It works out well for us as Steve's birthday is in May and mine in November. It's like this, he turns 7 each May and until November I'm older, and therefore the 'boss'. Come November when I turn 7 he's now older and... well, you get the picture. The only problem with this is his Auntie Lynda. She adheres to the same philosophy only her perfect age is 12. Yes, that means she's older and SHE gets to boss us around... and we HAVE to do what she says. Sometimes life just ain't fair. On the other hand, we have Steve's niece, Lauren. Lauren's physical age is 7 but her mental age is about 40. I've never known a child to be so OLD. She has a problem with Steve and I being 7. Whenever we mention it to her she rolls her eyes at us and says, in a very exasperated tone of voice, "DON'T start THAT again !". If we persist she goes off to see another, more sensible adult in the house, and we can hear her wailing, "Stephen and Michele are saying they're SEVEN again !"

Yet again I've rambled and staggered all over the place with no definite conclusion in mind. See, that's why I could never be a writer. So, I will just cease and desist here. Pari, you can have another gold star if you've gotten to the end again.