Person of Interest

It happened again yesterday. I was walking down Main Street in downtown Franklin, North Carolina, when a young man about thirty passed me on the sidewalk. I smiled. He looked away. What the bleep? Just because I'm not young and attractive doesn't mean I'm not worthy of good manners. I turned around as he continued to walk away with his rudeness unchecked and yelled, "HEY! I'M NOT INVISIBLE, YA KNOW! Okay, that's a lie. I didn't challenge his rudeness. I just continued on down the sidewalk mumbling to myself about my invisibility and trying to remember why I was on Main Street in the first place. It's my memory, not so good anymore.

Lynnette has always been a person of interest to the opposite sex. Me? Not so much, but there was a period of time from twenty to fortyish when men did take notice, on occasion. I took it for granted. I didn't appreciate the attention when it was so freely giving to me. Now, in its blatant absence--with added insult from bad manners--I, in hindsight, appreciate the perks of youth and, in real time, acknowledge the disadvantages of old age. Putting aside, for now, the aches, pain, and monetary strain caused by the body growing older, I want to share a little elder perspective about the emotional discomfort that comes from one aspect of aging.

RINGA DING, DING

Lynnette's calling to talk about the furrow on her forehead.

Lynnette: "I've noticed a furrow on my forehead."

Me: "My entire body is furrowed, but I'm glad you brought that subject up. I need to talk to you about something."

Lynnette: "Can it wait? I have a date with this handsome man from Michigan, and I need to wax my bindi."

Me: "No, actually, it can't wait. Now that the furrowing has started, I want to prepare you for something bad that's about to happen. It's about the attention you've been getting."

Lynnette: "If I don't wax my bindi before my date tonight, something good won't happen."

Me: "You're going to lose it, ya know. It's going away."

Lynnette: "I've used a laser on it, but it's still there. That's why I need to wax it."

Me: "All of the attention that you've been getting is going away."

Lynnette: "Exactly! If I keep it waxed, no one notices."

Me: "Well, okay then. I have to go now. I need to pluck the hairs on Tom's ears."

Lynnette: "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Me: "Oh, never mind."