10 posts tagged “age”

way back last century

3 comments

Today we did some group work and the students had to write down the names of some famous people from the 20th century. They were absolutely stunned - the 20th century - oh my, could it be Thomas Edison? I had to explain to each group as they came to that workstation, and there were 5 separate groups, that the 20th century meant anyone 10 years of age or older - such as themselves! They were stunned - they were born in the 20th century! Damn, they weren't famous though.

There are 18 people in one of my tutorial classes and the lecturer suggested that we draw a seat plan and then she made us go around the room and say our names and a couple details about ourselves, and one thing that we would never tell a student. Yes, most of them said that they wouldn't tell their students what they did on the weekends - the parties etc. I was a little more staid and said that I would never tell a student where I lived. In fact, I have been thinking that I will have to drop my name from the telephone book listing and just have in MR FD's name when I get a job, for privacy and safety etc. The lecturer asked us to sit in the same seats for the next couple of weeks to assist in learning names. She of course knew all names by the end of the class, but I saw her learning the names while we did group work.

Then randomly throughout the class she would call on someone to try to remember the names of the other students without looking at their notes. YEP, she called on me. I was up front and said, there is no way I could remember that day, without looking at my paper. Once upon a time, I could have recited the names frontwards, backwards and blindfolded, not any more. I can still do all the same memory things but it just takes longer.

So I came home and parrot fashion learnt the list and tried to remember the faces as well. I woke up this morning fairly confident that I could recite the list if I was called upon again.

Of course, some people did not sit in the same seat did they - short attention span there, people, and we had a couple rings in, people who weren't in the first class, but are in the second class. Luckily I was not called upon. Lucky escape.

 Today the lecturer also asked "who has parents that are teachers?" and a large number of students put up their hands. I interjected "who has CHILDREN who are teachers?" and so there was me.

We did some group work today and had to create a poster or overhead of what we thought were the charachteristics of an English Teacher. We had 4 groups and when we finished we joined together all the different points and made the "average" teacher as we perceived:

Female

Wears glasses

Wears jewellery

Leftist (as in a Democratic [USA] type supporter)

Eclectic

chardonnay drinker

coffee drinker

mature

uses technology

avid reader

Then she asked each of us to think about how we fit that profile. A number of people ticked off 5 or more of the elements. Of course the males could only aspire to 9, "before the operation" as someone quipped. Only the lecturer and I ticked all 10. The mature thing clinched it for me.

I am the perfect candidate for the game "which one doesn't look like the others". And loving it.

The END

P.S. Going to back to university can be good for your health (except for the coffee drinking, only one today, but it was a half day) I have lost 2 kgs since enrolling. I think it is all the walking from one end of the campus to the other, carrying a book bag. I don't have to exercise at all now! I told MR FD and Daughter1 that I had lost weight and they both replied "stress". False believers - I don't think I am unduly stressed, more physically exhausted, dazed and confused!

I was sitting in class today, and three students behind me were having a chat about how old they were getting. One young man said "I was at a party on the weekend and man, I can't believe how old I felt. I am 23 and I was talking to all these 18 year olds..."

I couldn't help myself, I burst out laughing and turning back to face them, said "Sorry, but I am looking 51 down the barrel, oh to be 23 years old" They all laughed with me.

As I turned back to face the front I heard one young man say "woe!" under his breath. I would prefer to say that he was impressed...

the answer is out there somewhere

The distinguished GOF and I are in a quandry. GOF read my blog from late last week regarding my interchange with the elderly gentlemen who was buying a gift for his wife. GOF asked How could a man ever perform a similiar kindness? Or if a man detected that a woman, a stranger,  was feeling low, how could he ever offer her words of understanding with being viewed as having evil intent?

I have thought about this all evening, and I must admit that I am a little tired after my day's adventures, but I am yet to come up with an adequate reply. A man can no longer say "you look lovely today" to a female colleague without running the possibility of his words being viewed as sexual harassment. Yet, a woman can say, "you look dashing today" to a male and all is fine.

I know I would welcome such a kindness from a man. I like it when they hold doors open for me. I always reply with a smile and a clear thank you, as I know that men find it very confusing as to what their role is these days.

A few months ago, when I was wearing my neck collar, I was standing outside the physiotherapist's office. I had cause to wipe my eye with a tissue. A man walking by got the impression that I may have been crying and so, as he passed me he said, "Don't worry, tomorrow is sure be better". He didn't stop, he just spoke as he walked by. Even though I was not upset, I was very touched that he had taken the time to care - well obviously I must have been to be mentioning it here now.

I have consoled a male work colleague by placing an arm around his shoulder. He could never do the same. Some of the implied permission comes with age. Once a woman reaches middle age and starts to be viewed less sexually, she can adopt the role of confident and friend, offer compliments and shoulders to cry one. I think a man can to, once he has hit a certain age - but at a later age than a woman,  maybe retiring age. Men appear less "dangerous" as they age don't they? Whether that be true or not is all in the perspective, but we all commented how lovely it was for Emjay to sit on the stairs and spend time with her old male neighbour last week, but would our comments have been the same if Emjay had said he was a young man?

GOF suggested that men are not as sensitive as women to instances where assistance or support, physical or verbal, are required and so often to fail to offer any. I agree to a degree. I also suspect that we have conditioned men "not to go there". Generations have been told that men don't cry, and that men must be men and all the "gooey" emotional stuff is women's business. That is going to take a long time to rewrite.

But don't we all have times when we just need a smile, or a helping hand, don't we? It is sad to think that pure hearts that would like to offer it have barriers placed in front of them. How can a middle ground be found? Or is it just an out and out impossibility for one half of the human race?

Lunch outside the Basement of Discontent was a painful affair. Long silences that I always seemed to be the one who would eventually jump into to end. The Assistant is still working there - at reduced salary, triple the workload, and in an open plan office that is also open to the public. She is dreadfully unhappy, but has built a long list of reasons why she can't even look for another job...so she can enjoy her own misery then.

She Who was Going to Kill Me with Kindness is working in the office of a certain religious army - not her own, I think - and the detail nazi that she is has a boss who "wants to get organised this year" and expects her to do things like knock on his door 15 minutes out from any meeting etc to remind him to move....she is also trying to tell herself that she will eventually be happy, and maybe she will. I think she will implode due to the stress.

Podwoman is kind of still with the original organisation but due to my absence her work load has doubled in some areas. She has been sad for a long time and is trying to make changes in her life but present circumstances are holding her tight. She is very talented and gave me a gift today - the most beautiful knitted scarf that is so fine that it looks like lace. Absolutely gorgeous. It brought tears to my eyes. She has a kind heart. Pity it was about 33C today as I would have been tempted to wear it home...today I would have died of heat stroke. I would have been a gorgeous corpse though. I suspect Mr FD would have chosen a glass coffin as I would have looked so incredible blue knitted lacey scarf.

So hopefully no more lunches. Maybe a hit and run coffee if need be. I was the most positive and happiest person there - so you can see how bad it was!

Afterwards I lined up with babies to get my student ID card. The Big Whatever was very kind to me, and my ID photo actually looks pretty good. Thank you, thank you! They had us leaving by a special door upon which they had stuck a big sign "PLEASE SHUT THIS DOOR WHEN YOU EXIT". The line snaked passed the door and as I stood on one side of it, three babies wlked out and left the door open. Good little girl scout me reached over and pulled it shut, just as one of the boys turned to walk back to shut the door. He said "thank you, Mam"...I felt like I was 104, there and then on the spot. MAM?  Madam...sigh.

The next three days are full 9-5 days full of intro presentations and workshops and lectures and library tours and all sorts of head spinning stuff. I expect to be very fuzzbrained by the end of each day. Starting to look forward to it all though. It appears that my timetable will be classes Monday, Tuesday - Wednesday off - classes Thursday and Friday. That is until April when we do the full prac weeks in schools

The End.

Between the ages of 45 and 55 women on average can expect to gain at least 5.5 kg.

I am just over the 50 mark…. And statistically speaking I should have only gained an extra 2.75 kg by now

I must be in the advanced class…

I like presents, I love presents in fact. Giving and receiving them. Big or small. Give me, give me, gimme! However, a study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States (PNAS) states that due to a decrease in  dopamine activity levels as we age, we experience less pleasure in receiving gifts.

What is the good of living to 100 and ticking off all those birthdays if I wont actually get excited about my gifts? And may I say right up front, that my decreasing dopamine does not mean that any of my children can get off the hook and think they can cease giving me presents ! No way, Jose!

However, it does make me feel less guilty when I can’t think of what to give a 91 year old for his birthday and end up with food items, lottery tickets, and a large print book he is probably never going to stay awake long enough to read. If I have no chance of him caring what difference does the quality of the gift matter?

Except in MY case, because I keep note of these things, and as I will be one of those cranky [honest] old women who will tell you like it is, I will soon let the giver know that their quality control and originality is starting to really leave a lot to be desired. In fact if they don’t pick up their act they just might find themselves out of the will … assuming there is something to have in the will. The Wedgewood vase and my communions medal might be all there is, but hey they will want them when I am gone believe me!

So maybe, just to prepare for my decreased dopamine,  I should double my intake of gifts over the next 10 or 15 years. Merely so that I can show the adequate level of enjoyment while I still can. Just being polite. And the stimulation might assist in keeping my dopamine levels higher for a longer period of time.  Works for me – what about you? Roll on Christmas, let’s give it a trial!

Age-related changes in midbrain dopaminergic regulation of the human reward system

Jean-Claude Dreher , Andreas Meyer-Lindenberg , Philip Kohn, and Karen Faith Berman

http://www.pnas.org/content/early/2008/09/13/0802127105.abstract

Daughter 1 is a high school teacher. The other day a student walked passed her and made a rude finger gesture at her. In Australia we call it the forks - sticking two fingers up at someone. Daughter went into over drive and berated the student for making a rude gesture.

He looked at her very puzzled and said "But Miss that is the peace sign"

Daughter explained that no, actually he had reversed it and made the rude version to her.

He looked honestly amazed and replied "Oh Miss, you old people are weird".

Daughter is 29...sigh.

“I looked in the mirror on my birthday and discovered that my ears had gotten old. They are no longer shell-like and appealingly pink, but pendulous and wrinkled, something like Hermione Gingold's ears in Gigi (and how many years has it been since I realized I had begun to relate to Hermione instead of Leslie Caron when I watch Gig?) The spots and freckles, the flab and wobble, the folded eyelids and the stubby eyelashes, the creaky knees and crumbling teeth had, until the moment of the pendulous lobes, been matters for denial and half-hearted plans for renovation and disguise. Old ears were my turning point. I have reached the Age of Acceptance”

Jane O’Reilly

What was your marker of the acceptance of aging? For me it was the fine lines creeping across my chest, or décolletage to be more sophisticated. I have fought for years to maintain my hands as I have always been aware that hands always give away age. I think I have been relatively successful there. However, sun damage, particularly from wearing v-necked shirts when gardening has resulted in some fine lines gradually deepening.  I haven’t given up the fight, but I am reaching a level of “acceptance”.

“Everyone past the age of 40 needs a 'mutton monitor',"  wrote Sarah Mower. "I belong to a telephonic kaffeeklatch that does the job without the slightest risk of false flattery. In the case of black leather biker jackets, there wouldn't be the minutest margin of a doubt. Should one of our number be tempted to revert to Suzi Quatro mode, she'd just have to be stopped."

http://www.smh.com.au/news/fashion/mutton-dressed-as-maam/2008/02/20/1203467151676.html

My two 20 something daughters usually give me critical feedback. "Does my bum look big in this" kind of thing. Fashion advice I would say.

The thing is what is "mutton"? I mean,  who says when we are too old to wear a certain syle? Our bodies usually dictate to a certain level. I have long given up on shorts as the blue veins on the top half of my legs could be a grid map for the river systems of the Amazon (especially when no shaving/waxing has occurred for while!). I have always worn jeans, and hell I will until the day I die! If not longer...

Are your risking being labelled "mutton dressed as lamb"? Do you care?