Column

When Does My Hair Turn Blue?

By Cindy Phillips updated Wed, Mar 21, 2012 10:22 AM

Daylight savings time is wreaking havoc with my body clock. I was in a nice routine of waking up 10 minutes before my alarm chimed at 6 a.m. But since springing forward, I find myself walking around in a catatonic state until lunch time. My schedule is all off kilter and my energy level is at an all time low. What confuses me is that I thought when people reach my age, we naturally started waking up well before dawn with no need for an alarm clock. Why hasn’t that happened yet?

Let’s face it, Baby Boomers are a determined and stubborn bunch. We simply don’t do things “like they have always been done before.” We’re different and we changed the rules. We’re Boomers – and above all, we refuse to get old.

Senior ladies have always been affectionately referred to as “blue hairs.” It is the result of a rinse that older women put in their hair to brighten it once it turned gray or white. But the rinse often left a bluish tint, hence the nickname. It becomes even more comical when the shrinking senior continues to drive and often times, only the tip of her head is visible over the steering wheel.

Personally, I fail to see the humor. I guess things like that are starting to hit too close to home. I can assure you this Boomer is not going blue. So long as John Frieda, or any of his close friends, continues to produce dark reddish-brown hair color, the blue crayon is not going to show up in this coloring box. I am also not planning to become the incredible shrinking woman. My Aunt Clara was always petite in stature, but as she aged I think she lost at least a foot in height. She just kept wearing taller hats and higher heels. To complete the picture, both her lips and her nails were painted fire-engine red until the day she died. I will take Pilates classes seven days a week, if need be, to keep this torso stretched to its full length. If that doesn’t work, I’ll put a pillow on my car seat like my mother did. No matter what, the steering wheel and I will never be at the same height.

I guess it is the same corrupted internal time clock that has prevented me from jumping onto the “Early Bird Special” bandwagon. Saving three dollars on an entrée is not enough to entice me to force down dinner at the ungodly hour of 4 p.m. Nope, just can’t do it. I want to come home from work, take a walk, sip a glass of wine and clear my head before I start thinking about dinner. In fact, if I have enough wine I sometimes don’t need dinner at all. Now there is a savings plan and diet all rolled into one. We Boomers are clever that way.

Boomers have changed the face of senior citizenship. We are drinking from the fountain of youth, sipping the liquid all day from our Nalgene water bottles. We are working out, eating right and staying on the job long after retirement age – simply because we want to and we can. We keep plastic surgeons in business as tummy tucks, facelifts and liposuction have become everyday operations. We plan on living longer and by golly, we’re going to look good while we do it.

I will adjust to this time change, I always do. Unfortunately it usually kicks in right before it is time to change the clock back the other way. The problem may also be compounded by the fact that I still stay up too late on school nights, stay out too late on the weekends, and try to accomplish too many tasks in too few hours. And no matter how old I get, I am also still going to blast my radio when a good song comes on, dance like a fool when the music moves me and laugh out loud at a good joke.

I’m going to look old age in the face and stick my tongue out at saying, “Nanny, nanny, boo, boo”. And in honor of Aunt Clara, I’m going to wear fire-engine red nail polish and lip stick until they stop making it. For as long as I plan to stay young, I will outlive it.

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