Patty Unleashed: 1.22.20
This is the column each year where I announce my New Year’s resolutions. I tell you about my success in making and keeping my past year’s resolutions and encourage you to do the same. Not this time. This year, I have a bad attitude and I am not doing it. Do you remember Sally O’Malley from Saturday Night Live? Well, I’m stealing her words.
“My name is Patty O’Hannum. I’m proud to say I just turned 60 years old. I am not one of those gals who is afraid to tell her real age. I like to kick, stretch and kick. I am 60 years old.” Really, at this point, shouldn’t my only resolution be to stay alive?
I’ve told you before that I had this horrible feeling I would die before I turned 60. My dad had the same premonition. He lived well into his 80s. I shared my feelings with my loved ones, who chuckled, reminded me about dad and encouraged me to get over it. I did not want to plan a party or any sort of celebration since, well, I wasn’t going to be there and really, why should I have to pay for a birthday party and a funeral? My husband suggested I go see my on-call therapist. I told Shellie what was troubling me, and she reminded me that the last time we talked, I was concerned about being beheaded on an upcoming vacation. Hmm. I hate documentation of my ‘crazy.’ I really didn’t think I was going to die; it was more about turning an age I have always considered ‘old.’ I’ve never bought into ‘50 is the new 35’ or ‘60 is the new 40.’ Trust me, I have mirrors in my bathroom.
I think the other problem with turning 60 is that I still don’t feel like an adult. To quote @notskinnybutnotfat on Instagram: “We wanted to be adults so bad. Now look at us. Just f*cking look at us. It ain’t pretty.” As you read that, I am sure several things popped into your head. First, I’m 60 and I know about Instagram? Why, yes I do. Remember, 60 is the new 40 (unless you’re looking in a mirror). You can find me at @pfitzhannum, but you really should follow @notskinnybutnotfat. It will make you laugh daily; I just post pictures of my family. Second, when did this well-educated, well-read woman (I am talking about myself here, folks) start quoting Instagram? What is happening to me? Is my brain reverse aging but my body not? If only I could figure out how to become an influencer! Sadly, I am told, I’ve aged out of that market. Yes, aged out.
My girlfriends convinced me to spend my birthday in the Bahamas. They rented a house, and friends as far back as high school were with me to watch the clock and make sure I stayed alive. From there, I headed to the Keys to hang out with my husband. In anticipation of this, I called The New York Times to hold our delivery for a couple of months. Yes, I know you can do this online, but I can never remember my password. The first thing they asked is if I was over the age of 50 because I could qualify for special senior discounts. Sure, I’d like to get The NYT at a cheaper rate. Sadly, I was transferred to a salesperson to hear about the benefits of installing Life Alert since I am at the age where people are more likely to fall. Way to kick a person when she’s down.