On Thursday, I was the guest on a wonderful Internet radio show called “Trippin’ Down Memory Lane.” Host Pop Art Diva, aka Terri Dennis, really knows her stuff (loads of trivia from the past) and we reminisced about everything from old TV shows, to historical events, to spoolies, press-on nails, and other glamour aids. I invite you to take a listen and see if any of these memory makers rings a bell for you.

In the meantime, what do “Sky King,” “Super Circus,” and “Annie Oakley” have in common? Well, for those of you who were children in the fifties, they were beamed across the airwaves and into your very own living room along with the likes of the even more famous “Superman” and, of course, everyone’s favorite freckle-face, “Howdy Doody.”

What a great time to be a kid! Many of us lived in suburbs, skated around (key in hand) on sidewalks, jumped out of bushes in a burst of cap guns fire, and caught moths, fireflies, and ladybugs in jars with holes poked in the lid. We played hopscotch, jump rope, and tetherball. If you were a girl, you probably had a Ballerina Doll, a Tiny Tears, or the ultimate in chic—the first Barbie doll.

So, take a moment, think back and remember what was your favorite TV show? Who was your favorite hero? (Heroines were pretty scarce back then.) What kind of games did you like to play? Did you own a slinkie or a hula-hoop? Did you have a bucket purse with a rabbit’s foot on a chain around one of the straps?

The weekends are a perfect time to reflect, take a little trip down memory lane, and remember the thrilling days of yesteryear!

By your fiftieth birthday, you’ve lived 18,250 days on the planet—and that’s not even counting leap year. So, it’s more important than ever to shake things up a bit. Otherwise those ruts might start running pretty deep and we can begin to feel like life is full of “been there and done that.”

Everyone likes to try something new from time to time. Novelty brings back our energy and gives us a fresh take on things. So, plan that adventure trip, join a class and study a new language, take up painting, or remodel the kitchen—but a facelift?

Although my own face is showing one or two not so tiny ruts, the facelift isn’t actually for me—it’s for Feisty! Yep, the old blog is getting a fresh new look and I can’t wait to see her all jazzed up.

My friend, Terri, aka the Pop Art Diva and amazingly talented artist, has designed Feisty’s new masthead. Terri also boasts a fun and wickedly wonderful sense of humor, so the design is colorful, bright, and full spunky reminders of the sixties.

So come on by in a couple of days and take a look. This old blog is going from drab to dynamo—and, of course, the attitude will be feistier than ever.

The Olympics can truly bring the world together as we celebrate with pride and excitement the amazing feats of our young athletes. Yes, as with the case of the not-so-young Dara Torres, who I featured in my last post, they can inspire each of us to work towards goals and achievements of our own.

If you’re over fifty, you can probably remember the thrill of viewing the Winter Olympic Games of 1968. Of all things, they were beamed by satellite from Grenoble, France and we could actually witness events as they unfolded. What an astounding display of technology!

Jean-Claude Killy won three gold medals for alpine skiing events. And the darling of our generation, Peggy Fleming, won the only gold medal for the U. S. that year.

However, I’d like to draw your attention to another athlete. This young star, who performed in 1988, has gone unheralded for the past several decades and I’d like to give this gymnast some richly deserved and long awaited accolades for a job well done. The video takes about three minutes to view and, I promise, you won’t be disappointed!

This is the year I’ve decided to forgo the yearly challenge of stuffing myself into a swimsuit. No, I didn’t pose for the third photo in my recent post, “My Bottom Line,” but I certainly could have.

Never having been a vixen-like vision in beachwear, I struggled for years to find a suit constructed from industrial strength spandex that could squeeze and mold my flesh into the sought after hourglass form. But the years have broadened my bottom and gravity has been pulling especially hard as of late. Even with the mighty force of the super-spandex, I’m waging a losing battle. So, until puckers become alluring and the envy of one and all, I’m no longer showing mine off.

That said, I’ve come across a few photos of men who aren’t quite looking like the super studs they were in their youth. However, I don’t see any cosmetic companies going after them to “stop the aging process.”

The media bombards us constantly with celebrations of female youth and beauty while pushing a myriad of anti-aging products on us midlife gals. Their message is clear: only unlined faces are attractive, anyone over a size four is hopelessly lost in folds of fat, and aging is undesirable to say the least.

So, what’s a gal with a few pounds and puckers to do? Until I find an answer, I think I’ll sit this summer out. Besides, relaxing in the shade with a good book is just fine by me!

This is not a political blog. I figure, by the time you’ve made it to fifty, you’ve pretty much planted yourself on one side of the aisle or the other, or you’ve decided that you’re an independent and go with your current candidate of choice. In either case, it would be next to impossible to persuade a woman over fifty to throw away her beliefs and convert to the other side—not a lot of wishy-washy types in the menopausal set.  

However, I did come across a candidate who is so down to earth, so remarkably fresh in her outlook, so truly inspirational in her vision, and her stance on the issues is one we can all understand. In fact, she’s ONE OF US! Yes, this candidate is a woman who kissed her half-century birthday goodbye a while ago, and I don’t mean Hillary Clinton.

You are undoubtedly already well acquainted with her name and her likeness. In fact, every year when your birthday rolls around, I’m certain you receive several cards containing a personal message from her. With her unambiguous viewpoint and feisty take on life, she’s brightened many a boomer’s day.

Her name is Maxine and she has a blog called Hot Flash Central. You can check out her site to see her message or click here to view her stump speech. Either way, don’t miss the opportunity to view this lady in action—she’s got oodles of grey power and, better yet, she’s a hoot!

By the time we reach fifty, we’ve gone through a lot. We’ve lost loved ones to death and through the breaking of relationship ties. We’ve endured injured pride, damaged self-esteem, and crushing disappointments. We have sustained significant blows to the ego through painful experiences of rejection. And, we’ve seen our nest empty, watching our loved ones and ourselves grow older. We need our friends now more than ever!

There is strength in numbers; there is power in the union. How many times have we struggled with a problem and, just as we throw up our hands in frustration and near-defeat, a devoted friend comes up with the perfect solution. Often we are too close to our own issues to be able to see them clearly. A good friend, however, cares for our best interests and, at the same time, is one step removed. She can see the big picture, stand up for us when we can’t stand up for ourselves, and make sure our needs are met—or, at the very least, provide us with a really good laugh.

In fact, there is scientific proof that friendships play a vital and critical role in the lives of women. Repeatedly, studies have shown that those ladies with very few or limited friendships are not as healthy—nor do they live as long—as others who enjoy a wider circle of supportive friends and deeper, more meaningful relationships.

As the writer, Christi Mary Warner, once remarked, “A friend is one who knows all about you and likes you anyway.” What a blessing it is to find acceptance and love for our authentic selves, imperfect and flawed as we may be. In fact, rich and deep friendships that have endured over time may be the greatest gift our years bring us. So, as we enjoy the lazy, hazy days of summer, why not share the sunshine with a good and true friend?

Many women over fifty complain they become more forgetful. In fact, some have affectionately dubbed this phenomenon “mental-pause,” and there are real physiological reasons behind it. There are estrogen receptors throughout your brain, including the hippocampus, and this is the part involved in certain aspects of memory. So, when estrogen levels drop, your brain and your ability for recall are affected.

In fact, I know this to be true in my own life. Things seem to be slipping through the cracks, and every day brings fresh surprises and more than a few awkward moments.  I have to run back to the store because I neglected to buy the milk, I forget names and stand mutely by when it’s obvious I should be making introductions, and, without my datebook, I wouldn’t remember any of my appointments. 

But, before you get too worried that your own gray matter is graying, check out this fun little test. It’s called “How Old is Your Brain?” I did and was pleasantly surprised. In fact, I’m beginning to feel my noggin literally popping with new and sprightly dendrites!

To play:

1.    Touch “start”

2.    Wait for 3, 2, 1

3.    Memorize the numbers’ positions on the screen, then click the circle from the smallest number to the biggest one.

4.    At the end of the game, the computer will gage the age of your brain.

Good Luck!!

Click here to start

For those of you my age, you’ll remember with fondness the name of Phyllis Diller’s husband. It’s lost in my memory bank (too many withdrawals by now) as to the reasons for such a moniker, but I love the name. So, you know I’m not writing about him.

No, I mean real fangs—well, not exactly “real.” But, I came upon a pair yesterday and they were doozies!

My husband and I had the unfortunate experience of getting a flat tire on the freeway. A piece of some type of metal garbage flew off a truck landing right in front of us. My husband didn’t have a chance to avoid it and, a few seconds later, we heard a loud “bang” and the car lurched to the right. Actually, we were very lucky because we were driving in the far right lane. So, we pulled off onto the shoulder of the road and immediately called for service.

About a half hour later, the tow truck appeared and out popped a burly looking young man. He appeared to know what he was doing and was polite and friendly. It was when he was pulling off the hubcap that I noticed it. He had a huge four or five inch tattoo of a skull on his inner forearm. Adding to the startling effect of this particular piece of artwork, rather than teeth—the skull boasted fangs.

Okay, call me judgmental and old, but my mind started reeling. Was there a serial killer, with a tire iron in his hand, kneeling right next to me? Was he some fugitive from justice who had forged documents so that he could get a legitimate job and blend in with the rest of society? Were my husband and I in mortal danger?

Thankfully, the answers to all these questions are probably “no,” but it does give one pause. Why in all of creation do the young folk of today plaster their bodies with these huge and disturbing designs? They certainly make going barefoot and growing out your underarm hair pale by comparison!

For those of you who are regular readers, you know that I’m all for celebrating growing older. Many women report that their happiest, most productive years are those past fifty. As far as I’m concerned, I’m more confident, more outspoken, and more assertive than ever before. I guess you might say that I’m feisty!

Nevertheless, there are some joys of youth that I miss—especially in summer. Remember going to the beach with your girlfriends, holding hands, and watching the waves slap the shore? What a delight!  

And then as you grew into your teens and twenties, the summer took on a whole new meaning. With short shorts and halter-tops, it became the season for flirting and hoping to attract that perfect beau who would set your heart to pounding.

And now that we boomers find ourselves on the far side of fifty, what does the season of sunshine bring to us? Actually, it’s a chance to return to our childhood and, once again, frolic in the waves. The view might be a bit different but the fun’s still there.

And that’s my bottom line!

I’ve blogged about this lady before. However, if you boomer gals are like me, then they’re one or two deficits in your memory bank. Repetition is comforting—actually it’s essential. Otherwise, each day would be filled with such twists and turns that I’d feel I had a recurring role on the Twilight Zone. But, I digress… back to the funny stuff. 

Mrs. Hughes is a hoot! She began her career as a comedienne at the tender age of forty, inspired by the sassy Phyllis Diller who took to the stage around the same age. These two ladies have some amazing courage… not to mention talent.

Although this old bod will never see forty again (and neither will Mrs. Hughes), she can serve as an inspiration for those of us seeking new careers in middle age. What could be more daunting than mounting the steps of the dais and delivering your first stand-up routine? Anything we might try would seem mild by comparison.

At any rate, I share her wonderful comedy with you once again. She recently appeared on The Late Show with Craig Ferguson and brought down the house. The clip takes about five minutes to view, so sit back, relax, and get ready to chuckle—better yet enjoy a hearty guffaw at this lady’s irreverent take on parenthood, marriage, and the joys of being an old broad.