I can still do everything I could do in my youth, and I’ll prove it!
In my younger days, I could walk anywhere. Was the downtown shopping area more than three miles from my house? Did Mom take the car, leaving me with no transportation? No problem! As long as the weather was good, I could walk those three-plus miles, hit some of the stores, and, if necessary, walk back home. (I defined “necessary” as any situation where I couldn’t get anyone in the family to come and get me.) And oh yes — let that big German Shepherd come out of his yard and bite me on the rear again! I could take it!
I am now in my early 70s (VERY early 70s – please remember that). I can still walk to almost anywhere I need to go. Most of the places I need to go to now are only a few short blocks from where I live, but that doesn’t count. I can walk to them, period. There aren’t any big, aggressive dogs on the loose here, for which I am grateful, because I would feel obligated to learn how to make them fear me, and I have never been successful at scaring anything bigger than a cockroach.
In the old days, I could go up and down stairs, taking two of them at a time, if I was in the mood to do so. Most of the time I was not in the mood, but I could do it.
I can still go up and down stairs. I take them one at a time now, holding onto the railing, but the end result is the same. I get to where I want to be, up or down, and I don’t yet have to buy one of those chair doohickeys that rides up and down on the hand rail. I live on the first floor, anyway, in a building that has two elevators.
I was never good at running. I could outrun my mother, but that was about it. Every other kid could run faster than I could. That hasn’t changed over the years. Forget this one.
I took ballet lessons as a kid, and I’m sure they helped me to stay in shape, but I was hopeless at it. I was a big-boned, awkward kid. Forget becoming a second Pavlova. I couldn’t even get my feet into First Position. The best I could achieve was a wide “V.” As for bar work, I was okay, but only if I was allowed to hang as if on a Monkey Bar. I could not, without extreme difficulty, put one foot on the floor and the other up on the bar.
Nowadays, I only do ballet movements to be funny. I still can’t do them.
Being an “out-crowd” kid who was never asked on a date, I never had a chance to get my dance craze chops going. This was a shame, because I would have been good at it. I took one or two ballroom dancing classes, though, and they would have been a lot of fun if I had not always been paired with someone who couldn’t figure out where his feet should go. My partners often depended on me to lead, even though I was the girl and I wasn’t supposed to do that.
I can still move around well on a dance floor, especially if I can do something simple or make it impromptu. If you expect me to follow a series of steps, you’ll have to give me some practice time, like a day or two.
We didn’t have home computers when I was younger. Computers were gigantic things that could take up entire rooms, and if you wanted to get any information from them you had to use a card with little punched holes in it. Only experts could use a computer. The rest of us were awed by the machines and afraid that they would make us obsolete.
I have had a series of home computers by now, and am now the proud owner of an all-in-one Dell PC and a big, heavy laptop, both of them loaded with Windows 10. I love to play on the computer. I am active on Facebook and email, I play games, I do research through Google, and I do all my writing on my PC. I can work in Word, Excel and PowerPoint. As a soon-to-be 72-year-old, I am proud of myself. I have friends around my age who think the computer is the Antichrist.
I could go on, but I won’t (for now, at least). If anyone wants to join in on the fun, please leave a comment.