Shame, shame on all of you who are belying this lovely young woman, Sarah Palin an incompetent, a woman unable to work at a responsible job and care for five children. I know who you are. You are those women my age who fought so hard to get equality for women. So much progress was made you forgot who you once were. You were young, pretty, strong, able to take on the world and feed, dress, teach and make a living for the children without the father because he ran off with a long legged, blond who never once asked him why on anything. Get over it all, we can’t do what she is planning on doing but she can.
We are retired because life has changed, changed drastically. Oh don’t get me wrong we are nowhere ready to go to assisted living. We are not ready to have you assign us a driver, nor are we studying our last handful of chips for a last big stage flash, no we are struggling happily, thank you.
Why don’t we work? So many of us are a pound or two over the top. Do youyoung women who are appalled at seeing little old ladies with butts wider thanthey are tall have any idea what would be required of them to be on time for work even it that happened to be eleven in the morning? They have already put in 40 plus years and need a break for God’s sake. It goes something like this.
Well we are showered and shampooed. Then we get the scant handful of hair sprayed and crunched, tucked and smoothed and dispersed into as many areas as it will fill. We spray again and get on to the work at hand. Some of us were not born with ample blessings above the waistlines but bless my soul after Minni pauses and passes we find ourselves with such abundance we haven’t any explanation for it. This is a nice surprise until the whole of our bodies fill out to match the upper forward push. Things change. Things fall. Thngs stretch.
I want to be a nice lady with my words but I must do a visual for you. After retirement age some of us are so ready not to ever dress up again that we were totally shocked to see John McCain’s 96 year old mother. I think they left her body at home and brought her head on a mannequin.
For those of us who are no longer trim and sagging; we do something like this. We draw what appears to be two albeit small bowling balls made of apricot jam and poked into a pair of panty hose cut off at the knees up into a proper carrying case. The best possible attire for them is a front hooking bra. Soon we are very tired and need a rest.You see we have been standing bent at the waist arranging these panty hosed things into this contraption with at least thirteen hooks and they just lob out on either side about the time you have a hook done and the process begins again and again until you are finally plopped up hooked up and ready to do your hair all over again from the sweat.
We know we will never wear that little black dress again but we still use the little stick that promises not to leave us with an unsightly white streak under our arms. Oh well, that is all gone. Back to the drawing board alcohol soaked cotton balls swab those underarms and go with the little white stick once again.
We wriggle and wobble into the best black skirt and top we could possibly find, add that new single string of pearls; the old ones don’t fit anymore you gave them to the daughter some time ago. You are getting to the presentable stage now, after having gone through the process of putting on panty hose. Oh didn’t I tell you about that. You go to the store where they sell you all the fixings for a hospital room for the home and buy a frame to help you put on your hose. I refuse to even go there because no explanation will suffice.
Shoes? Yes we need to wear nice shoes. Avoid, heels, buckles, buttons, straps anything you have to touch. Having come this far in getting dressed you are sure to pass out if you stoop that low. Oh come on let us all be honest here that will put a new light on things. You can’t stoop that low. You could wear flip flops with just a tad of silver streaking or little flat black simple shoes. You know your feet will swell out over and near the floor with those binding things.
Oh! We must move along it is already a quarter to eleven and face it you need a two hour nap after this ordeal. We don’t have it any more but don’t blame her for her age.
But you could have done it when you were Sarah Palin’s age, with a loving and helpful husband and all the care people you could ever need. She can and will do it.