I’m in my 60s

It’s time to own up…and own it

For a long while now, I’ve been hesitant about revealing my age. As I’ve always looked younger than my years, thanks to my murky gene pool, I figured, “Why not leave people guessing?” I also was of the notion that “It’s nobody’s damned business how old I am.”

But as we’re all painfully aware, nowadays anyone can find out practically anything about us. With the advent of the Internet, our lives literally became open books. And it totally sucks.

At the marketing agency where I toiled as an Associate Creative Director for nearly fifteen years, whenever the topic of “age” popped up amongst my co-workers, I quickly changed the subject. I became adept at it. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was nearly twenty years older than my longtime, art director partner. They probably already knew, but no way in hell was I going to own up to it.

Age discrimination is everywhere, but nowhere is it more prevalent than in the workplace. Routinely turned down for positions I am overqualified for, I’ve given up the search. Thrown in the corporate towel. I just can’t stomach filling out employment applications that require me to include the year I graduated high school.

I’ve been a career writer for more years than I care to count, with a breadth of experience that few of my former coworkers shared. Yet, after being laid off two years ago, I cannot find a job. Not even close. We’re talking full-time, part-time, freelance, contract — nada. Not in the marketing and advertising industries, at least.

I guess I’m just too freakin’ old to write! It’s amazing that I’m writing now. Someone must be propping this old broad up! Wait — let me check. Nope. I’m sitting up on my own. Thank you, Jesus.

Yeah. I’m pissed. And I need to rid myself of the anger and frustration because I realize the only person that can affect change is me.

I have to credit my friend, Helen Cassidy Page for giving me the courage to write this, as she, herself is so courageous. In her 80s, she has no problem talking about the trials and tribulations of getting older. She is a piss and vinegar badass. With a solid gold heart. That is the woman I want to be.

Whenever people bitch about getting older, there’s always that one nitwit who chimes in with, “Yeah, but think of the alternative!” REALLY?

Look. I don’t want the alternative. I want to live, but I can’t in all honestly say that I’m embracing the aging process. It sucks. Anyone who says otherwise is a bald-faced liar, in my opinion. Or loaded. With enough cash to live like those actors pretending to be retirees in the Edward Jones commercials.

Your vision goes. Your hair turns to shit. Unless you’re 24/7 vigilant about eating right and getting a reasonable amount of exercise (which I do), your body betrays you at every turn. You get robocalls and junk mail from every insurance provider known to man. You awaken in the wee hours, thoughts racing, heart thumping…with clear-as-day images of dead relatives and dead pets scrabbling through your brain. “We’re waiting for you…”

You are in a sense, a speeding bullet going straight to, well, you know.

And people…some people…no longer look at you. They look through you. As if you were a wraith. I’ve noticed this not so much with myself, but with other people around my age or older.

The hell with that. If I’m in a roomful of people, I’m going to command it. Own it. Because I can still work it. We all can if we try. If we have faith in ourselves. But this is a tough row to hoe when the rest of the world dismisses us because of the year we were born.

And you know what? If you take the time to look, people with some “seasoning” on them are smokin’ hot. There’s something really sexy about that whole “been there, done that” level of experience.

Just look at Helen. Read her stories. The woman is an octogenarian sex bomb.

On my bad days, much like everyone else, I feel like giving in and giving up. Quit writing here. Trash the screenplays, and forget my ridiculous dream of becoming a working screenwriter because guess what? Hollywood is ageist, too. Oh hell, yeah. Unless you’re someone who has established themselves years earlier. Or, you’re Liam Neeson.

A producer might consider my age and think, “Well, damn. How many good scripts does she have left in her?”

A shit-ton. That’s how many.

But I can’t seem to catch a break. Not that way. Not yet. But I’m forever hopeful. What else do I have going, after all?

Speaking of Hollywood, when actors and actresses mangle their faces with too much plastic surgery, wouldn’t you think someone close to them would step up and say, “Stop. Enough already?”

Melanie Griffith. Jessica Lange. And a boatload of other people in the public eye have rendered themselves nearly unrecognizable because “looking good” is all about “looking younger.”

Oh, the money we spend in our tireless efforts to belie our true age. I know I’ve spent a fortune on creams and lotions and potions and serums so that I can look “glowy” and “youthful.” Plus, I’m now “micro-needling” my face!

On the flip side, it’s healthy to want to look as good as possible for as long as possible, but at some point, it doesn’t hurt to give in a little, too. To forgo the ten-step cleansing process for one night and binge on Netflix while stuffing ourselves with popcorn.

Ultimately, I decided that if I’m going to talk the talk, I must walk the walk. I can’t tell others to write from the heart and “be authentic,” if I’m not truthful about who I am. And my age is a huge part of that component. What I’ve seen. What I know. What I’ve done.

You’ll either accept me or you won’t. And if my age is an issue for you, well, then you know what you can do.

But, for the rest of you —

“My name is Sherry and I was born at Mount Sinai Hospital in Chicago, Illinois, on April 26th, 1953.”

Thanks for reading. I wish you all a long and healthy life.

Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

If you enjoyed this, please check out more of my work. Thanks, again.