Wrinkly Bits
A Blog by Gail Cushman
Oh my gosh, I seldom get overwhelmed, but this week has blown me apart! Relatives, friends, and FB friends wished me a happy birthday, and I lost track of whom I said, “THANK YOU!” to and who I missed, but I do appreciate all who took the time to wish me a Happy Birthday. Your kindness made turning 80 much easier and I’m off to a good start to reach 81. Just for the record, I feel 18. Go figure. Cowboy said I had a “rolling birthday,” visiting my grandson in Bozeman, more family for dinner at Edgar’s Bar, and then off to Billings with some grandkids, still of the age to enjoy pizza, cake and ice cream. Overwhelmed!
I began writing Wrinkly Bits during Covid, about four years ago, when I still lived in Boise. We, meaning senior citizens or the elderly as I have been called lately, were discouraged from going anywhere or talking to anyone. We had curfews, rules, fear, and threats. FYI, AARP says age 50 is a senior citizen while the government concedes you don’t reach senior-hood until 60. Tom was in the Boise VA Nursing Home and to see him, I had to gown-up. Not just a gown, but also a cap, goggles, gloves, booties and masks. I somewhat resembled a creature from outer space.
Then there was the six-foot rule. Don’t go closer than six-feet to anyone if you wanted to live to your next birthday. Have someone deliver your groceries and stay home. The stores opened early for we seniors, so we could shop for milk or eggs in the mornings from 6:00 to 6:15 without fear of being infected by some youngster under the age of 60. It was so much fun.
Back to Wrinkly Bits. You know, how I am, a little defiant at times, and my neighbors and I decided it would be a good idea to gather together every night and wish each other well, you know, from six feet apart. My front patio held six chairs, at six feet (more or less) apart, and we kept a sharp look-out for the Covid Police, because no one wanted to end up in jail. It worked, nobody in our little group got Covid, nobody went to jail, but we drank our fair share of wine and laughed out loud every night, both are good for the soul! We thumbed our noses at the Covid rules, and said hello to companionship.
About the same time, Anna, my lovely editor, suggested I write about our Covid Party fun and thus Wrinkly Bits were born. Twice a week, I wrote of sane and insane things that happen to seniors, like technology, medical needs, how our kids didn’t grow up the way they were supposed to. You know, in the vein of Erma Bombeck. I added in some nostalgia, after all who wouldn’t like to recall things like the 1950’s Duck and Cover drills, sheltering under our desks to avoid being killed by an atomic bomb, or stuffing phone booths, just for fun. In high school, girls took typing and shorthand, while boys enrolled in wood shop or mechanics. Things were a bit different then.
Wow! What changes over the last seventy years, I think of the old typewriters in typing class, then the Electric typewriter and to now, when we text with our thumbs to grandchildren and have to have them explain how to facetime. My jury is out on AI, but it’s coming.
These are just a couple facets of our lives that changed. Think about agriculture, aviation or medicine. What a marvelous age we live in and how I love to write about the funny conflicts between the fancy new stuff and our nostalgic common-sense backgrounds.
Wrinkly Bits surprised everybody! It grew in popularity and now a whole bunch of people read them. Some people I know well, while others I’ve never met, but somehow have developed a kinship with them. It has been overwhelming at times, but also a joy. So, when this birthday girl had a few hundred people wish me a happy birthday…I was OVERWHELMED and I thank you.
I’ll keep writing, as long as you keep reading and commenting! Adventure on, Boomers, nothing we have seen slowed us down yet. Although I don’t miss poodle skirts and ducktail haircuts and certainly don’t miss Costco at 6 a.m.
