Sunday Stroke Survival: Aging

1971 Shasta camper

Getting off the subject of my ill health woes. I was watching a YouTube video of revamping a vintage camper into a tiny house. Yes, I'm still crazy about tiny houses. The camper in question was a 1971 pull behind "RV." It struck my funny bone. Vintage?! I was getting ready to graduate high school when this camper was built.

It got me thinking about aging. If the 1970s was vintage, what would I be called at my age? I'm certainly not antique because I'd have to be over 100 years old. I'm old, but not that old although I do feel like I'm close to it right now. Ancient would be over 1,000 years old. I definitely don't fit in this category. What's in between vintage and antique?

That set me searching. There isn't one. If you know of one, please let me know. I love the word SEXagenarian. It covers the ages between the 60s and 70s. So I can use it for a few more years. So I guess I'm mid-line vintage. That's not too bad, I guess.😕

When I think vintage, I think sock hops, drive-in diners, and saddle shoes. Today, it's Afros out to there, bell bottom jeans, and heavy eye makeup of my high school years. My younger sisters even had old train cases full of make up. Me not so much. Even back then, I wasn't a fru-fru girl. A little bit of blusher, mascara and maybe a pencil eyeliner. 
In case you didn't know, a train case was a small suitcase carry on that your parents or grandparents used to carry essentials in when traveling. Smaller than a carry-on. My sisters had it full of different colored mascaras, eyeliners, lipsticks, eye shadows, etc. to achieve just the right look. It took them hours, reapplying during the day, to put it all on, keep it on, and take it off. The most make up I ever wore was my wedding day (the first one). My sisters made us appointments at Merle Norman's. They offered free make up jobs in the hopes that you'd buy all their products. I have to admit I looked darn good in the photographs, but I couldn't wait until I could wash it all off.

I guess that's why, until my strokes seven years ago, most people pegged my age at least ten years younger. Besides being Asian, I let my skin breathe for most of my life. Your skin is the largest organ. You need to protect it. I've never even been tempted to go to a tanning place, but wore sunscreen, and tanned naturally through outside activities. By the end of summer, I was a golden brown and usually still am. Not this year though, I've been inside too much. sigh! A tiny medical reference.

I'm vintage and loving it! I'm thinking of finely, aged wines and cars. Classical and not as crude as I once was. Not a beauty queen, but the girl next door pretty. Well, maybe if I take the time to brush my hair and apply some make up. I prefer infamous to fame. I'm the type of of person who gets behind you and pushes you to be the best you can be, and applaud you the loudest when you get there. I'm just Jo. I'm aging not so gracefully, but what you see is what you get. Now, I'm too vintage to care what you think. But then again, I've always felt that way even in high school.

I still believe "Nothing is impossible." Ir keeps me going and striving to be whatever I want to be. No matter how old I am or what it's called.