Now We Are Fifty


Today is my birthday. I am fifty years old.

I’ve been anticipating this birthday with pleasure. There’s something comic about 49; fifty has a wiser, more solid sound. I am fifty. I like being fifty.

What I don’t get about turning fifty is the weird look people give me when I admit it. I don’t flatter myself that it’s because I don’t look my age; I think it’s because I’m not SUPPOSED to admit it. Women, and women in the performing arts in particular, are not supposed to age. The rule is: we’re supposed to knock a year or two (or three or more) off our ages; we’re supposed to hide our driver’s licenses; we’re supposed to keep passing off ten year-old headshots at auditions (or else get new ones that are suitably airbrushed); those of us who can afford it are supposed to get nipped, tucked, botoxed and lipo’d.

Who made that rule? I am fifty and proud of it. My one concession to the Cult of Youth is that I color my hair (yeah, that’s a surprise), but I like red hair, so there.

I’m fifty, baby. I’m not old. I’m golden.

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7 comments

  1. Tony Westbrook

    Just like Molly Shannon’s character on SNL, Sally O’Malley, you are 50! And you like to kick, and stretch, and KICK, cuz you’re Five OH, Book ’em Danno! :)And on the day the Tony nominations come out as well.You get MY Tony Award!Celebrate YOUR day!Love,Tony

  2. jupupedu

    Welcome to the golden oldies club. It doesn’t feel “old” to me, just normal. Besides, everyone else is getting older, too – no biggie. Ha-a-a-a-ppy birthda-a-a-a-y to yew (and Jim, too)!XXOO, Julie

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