{"id":1171,"date":"2012-06-07T10:35:06","date_gmt":"2012-06-07T15:35:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/?p=1171"},"modified":"2012-06-07T10:38:06","modified_gmt":"2012-06-07T15:38:06","slug":"a-life-in-passports","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/2012\/06\/a-life-in-passports\/","title":{"rendered":"A Life in Passports"},"content":{"rendered":"

When you turn sixty I suppose that it is inevitable to get misty eyed and look back.\u00a0 After all, I am standing on what I hope is a threshold (and not a precipice) between middle age and the next phase \u2013 which I cannot bear to label \u201cold age\u201d or even \u201csenior citizenship.\u201d\u00a0 I don\u2019t have to look far to see the inevitable signs of aging, particularly where gravity has suddenly taken a tenacious grip on certain body parts.\u00a0\u00a0 We often Skype with Ned who lives in China, and typically the iPad is placed on the counter and we look down into it.\u00a0 Oh the horror of gravity, the horror! Tugging at every loose fold, highlighting every wrinkle and creating ephemeral jowls!\u00a0 Now when I Skype I use gravity to my advantage by holding the iPad over my head so that I am looking up into it.\u00a0 Alternatively I\u00a0have discovered a\u00a0gravity work-around by putting my elbows on the counter and my face in my hands.\u00a0 Then, as I look into the iPad, I stretch my skin to give myself a temporary face lift. My mother used to write little ditties celebrating her friends\u2019birthdays.\u00a0 For her younger friends, she would include a stanza along the lines of:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cLook at the firmness of her bustle, and the tautness of her muscle.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0She made the necessary adjustments for her older friends with the line:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cThere is a broadening of her bustle, and a sagging of her muscle\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0I fall squarely into the second category.<\/span><\/p>\n

And then there is the whole issue of your shifting demographic.\u00a0 I am no longer desired by advertisers and in fact simply cannot understand some of the ads. Nick, who used to work in advertising, tries to console me and says,\u201cDon\u2019t worry, you are not supposed to understand those ads anyway, after all they were written by 25 year old kids.\u201d Several years ago, I remember prefacing a story of my teenage years by saying, \u201cAbout 25 years ago\u2026\u201d\u00a0 I was so startled to say \u201c25 years ago\u201d because it seemed to me that that my conscious memory should not extend that far back.\u00a0\u00a0 How could I have stories that old? I have finally grown accustomed to saying \u201c25 years ago,” but now startle when I have to say \u201cAbout 45 years ago\u2026\u201d\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n

But beyond these physical and cultural mileposts, there is the more contemplative question of who I am and how I got here.\u00a0 As I was walking out to the garage the other day, I spotted the perfect vehicle for a retrospective of my life.\u00a0 We\u00a0posted a\u00a0bulletin board there\u00a0where we display all the old ID\u2019s that any of us have had through the years \u2013 school ID\u2019s, work ID\u2019s and even a collection of Ned\u2019s fake IDs before he turned 21.\u00a0 When my cousins were cleaning out my uncle\u2019s house, they even added his ancient firearms license to the mix.\u00a0 But the centerpiece of the bulletin board is a collection of every single passport that I have ever had, from 1967 to present.\u00a0 It is somewhat of a miracle that they all came together, because I have no recollection of carefully saving them.\u00a0 Some must have been in my parent\u2019s house and turned up when we cleaned that out, some were in my possession before I got married, and some were stored by Nick. But all of a sudden there they were in the same box, offering a snap shot of the passage of time.<\/span><\/p>\n

1967<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

So young, so fresh so innocent, with a white shirt with a Peter Pan collar, and a button up cardigan.\u00a0 I still remember that sweater, it was a sage green, and there was a grosgrain ribbon along the inside.\u00a0 I am certainly wearing a skirt, as required by my school, lace-up oxford shoes and bobby sox.\u00a0 I was a very slow starter, and if I had been kissed, it was probably by an unwilling loser in a game of spin the bottle.\u00a0 My friend Jay looked at the picture and said, \u201cYou look virginal and fresh, like an Ivory Soap ad.\u201d No hint of a Queen Bee in this photo.<\/span><\/p>\n

The passport was prompted by my grandmother\u2019s generous gift of a traditional \u201cgrand tour\u201d of Europe.\u00a0 We actually sailed across the Atlantic on the Queen Mary and experienced the last vestiges of the Titanic lifestyle.\u00a0 I remember swimming in the pool where the rocking boat creating the very bizarre perception that you were swimming up hill. We had to get all dressed up for dinner every night in the restaurant and ate things like Baked Alaska.\u00a0 One of our stops in Paris was the Lido, where my friend Helen and I were shocked and intrigued by all the naked ladies.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a01970<\/span><\/strong>\"\"<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Quite a transformation in three years. My friend Jay says that I now have a \u201csultry, come hither look,\u201d although he says it still looks like I trying to find myself. I remember that I was fresh off the tennis court, so any sultriness was probably due to a lingering sheen of sweat. By that time, I had a few summer romances under my belt, but nothing major and would agree that I was still unsure of my identity.\u00a0 In 1967, my passport indicated that I had brown hair.\u00a0 So perhaps one sign of confidence was that I now called myself a blonde.\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n

In 1970 I had just graduated from high school and was spending a \u201cgap year\u201din Madrid before entering college.\u00a0 Generalissimo Francisco Franco was still in power, left over from the Civil War in the 1930s, and I have a clipping from a newspaper where my friend Susan and I were part of a crowd shot cheering Richard Nixon as he rode in a motorcade with Franco.\u00a0 I\u2019ve got to say, it does make me feel very ancient if I can claim a connection, however tenuous, to the Spanish Civil War.\u00a0 Also, the newspaper clipping has turned brittle and yellow with age.<\/span><\/p>\n

1975<\/span><\/strong>\"\"<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

I am 23 years old and out of college and frankly, now it looks like I’ve really got it going on, but any look of confidence must be something of a fa\u00e7ade.\u00a0 I spent the year flailing around working menial jobs, but eventually I pulled it together and entered medical school in 1976.\u00a0 I think that I took comfort in the thought that my life was planned out, but I didn\u2019t truly appreciate that medical school and residency would consume 9 years of my life, before spitting me out at age 32!\u00a0 Many people in their twenties experiment with different jobs, but I was locked and loaded into medical school.\u00a0 Without knowing what hit me, my twenties were over and done, and I was officially in middle age.\u00a0 I don\u2019t remember much of that time.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a01981<\/span><\/strong>\u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Of the bunch, this is actually my favorite picture, though Jay says that I look thin and tired and that work has taken its toll.\u00a0 I am into my pathology residency, and recently engaged to Nick.\u00a0 In fact, I got this passport for our honeymoon to the island of Madeira.\u00a0 I like this picture because I think I look happy and above all, friendly, non-threatening and nice, which has really been my basic goal since my first passport, i.e. for the past 45 years<\/em>!<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a01989<\/span><\/strong>\"\"<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Here I am in the early stages of doing the \u201chave it all\u201d juggling act with work and family.\u00a0 Ned was 3 years old, and this picture was probably taken when I was just pregnant with Frances.\u00a0 I\u2019m not sure why I got this passport, since not surprisingly, I didn\u2019t use it for another 5 years.\u00a0 I do remember the winter coat that I am wearing.\u00a0 Nick had encouraged me to go to the dentist before our dental insurance ran out at the end of the year.\u00a0 Unbelievably, they found 7 cavities.\u00a0 In order to meet the deadline of December 31st<\/sup>, the dentist had to fill them all in one day \u2013 4 left ones in the morning and the 3 right in the afternoon.\u00a0 The dentist said, \u201cI normally wouldn\u2019t recommend such extensive work in one sitting, are you sure you are up for this?\u201d\u00a0 Nick pointed out that this strategy would save us about $500.\u00a0 I wanted to be the perfect low maintenance and frugal spouse so off I went to the marathon session of drilling and gagging.\u00a0 However, during my lunch break between right and left, I went shopping.\u00a0 In my benumbed state I bought myself a new winter coat.\u00a0 It cost $500. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a01999<\/span><\/strong>\"\"<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Uh oh, the wheels came off.\u00a0 At this point, I was slogging through my 40s, a decade that was bereft of any personal growth.\u00a0 The job was no longer fresh, I was deep into child care and also experiencing the challenges of the sandwich generation.\u00a0 We got this passport to travel to London to celebrate the millenium and were staying with Nick\u2019s mother who lived on the outskirts of London with her elderly companion.\u00a0 I was itching to get down to the Thames to be part of the throng, but would be saddled with two young children and two elders and it turned out to be just impossible.\u00a0 Instead, we ended up watching the celebration on TV.\u00a0 I was acutely and agonizingly sandwiched.\u00a0 On the up side, this passport also includes some fabulous family trips we took when the kids were older.<\/span><\/p>\n

2009<\/span><\/strong>\"\"<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Oh the horror, the horror!\u00a0 First I should say in my defense that the passport agency absolutely insisted that I refrain from any smiling or any expression whatsoever. But this is really dreadful \u2013 is this what my face looks like at rest?\u00a0 Nick thinks this looks like a mug shot of a strung out meth dealer eking out some sort of hardscrabble existence.\u00a0 I wouldn\u2019t disagree.\u00a0 My friend Sallie \"\"<\/a>coupled my first passport with the latest and said, \u201cLook, this could be \"\"<\/a>mother and daughter!\u201d\u00a0 If so, you could use the two pictures as a prompt for a creative writing workshop, i.e. write a story about the relationship between these two women.\u00a0 Well, I think that the \u201cdaughter\u201d has an anxious <\/span>and tentative smile, very fearful and unsure how to placate her volatile mother.\u00a0 The\u201cmother\u201d is a mean vindictive \u201cMommie Dearest\u201d type who, at the slightest provocation, spanks her daughter with a hairbrush.\u00a0 Perhaps I would turn it into a gripping murder mystery, or submit a script to Law and Order.\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n

I am not due for another passport for another 7 years so I will have to wait until 2019 to rectify the miserable impression of this photo.\u00a0 I am hoping for a picture that shows me gracefully aging, buffeted by a strong community of family and friends, and comfortable and confident for the next decade.\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n

The missing words in the following poem are anagrams (i.e. share the same letters like spot, post, stop) and the number of asterisks indicates the number of letters. Your job is to solve the missing words based on the above rules and the context of the poem.\u00a0 Scroll down for answers.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n

Father Time sits on his throne with his jeweled\u00a0******* in his hand,<\/span><\/p>\n

And taps his giant hour glass to unclog the stifled sand.<\/span><\/p>\n

He is a hated man and knows he will never get any *******<\/span><\/p>\n

Until people realize that eternal youth is something you can\u2019t protect.<\/span><\/p>\n

Fighting the ******* of oncoming age is a game that nobody\u00a0can win<\/span><\/p>\n

So embrace your broadening bustle, sagging muscle and the wise wrinkles in your skin.<\/span><\/p>\n

*<\/span><\/p>\n

*<\/span><\/p>\n

*<\/span><\/p>\n

*<\/span><\/p>\n

*<\/span><\/p>\n

*<\/span><\/p>\n

scepter, respect, spectre<\/span><\/p>\nFollow Liza Blue on: \"Facebook\"<\/a>\"twitter\"<\/a>Share: \"Facebook\"<\/a>\"twitter\"<\/a>\"reddit\"<\/a>\"pinterest\"<\/a>\"linkedin\"<\/a>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When you turn sixty I suppose that it is inevitable to get misty eyed and look back.\u00a0 After all, I am standing on what I hope is a threshold (and not a precipice) between middle age and the next phase … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1171","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-such-is-life"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7iVc8-iT","post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1171","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1171"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1171\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1197,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1171\/revisions\/1197"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1171"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1171"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1171"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}