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Forever Fifty (Judith Viorst's Decades), by Judith Viorst
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About the Author
Judith Viorst writes in many different areas: science books, children’s chapter and picture books—including the beloved Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, which has sold some four million copies; adult fiction and nonfiction including the New York Times bestseller, Necessary Losses; poetry for children and adults; and four musicals. Her most recent books of poetry include What Are You Glad About? What Are You Mad About? and Nearing Ninety.
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Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 1You Say You Want to Know How Old I Am?I don't mind telling my age. Ihonestly don't mind telling my age.But why are you asking?I don't pretend I'm still young. Idon't expect to be thought of as young.So why are you asking?I never lie about age. It'sundignified to lie about age.But why are you asking?We're only as old as we feel. Youknow we're only as old as we feel. Sowhy are you asking?I'm told I look good for my age. I'moften told I look good for my age.Now why are you asking?No, I'm not ashamed of my age. Andif you insist, I'll tell you my age.You're what? Still asking?You Say You Want to Know How the Children Are Doing?Shawn teaches wind-surfing. Dawn is a certified midwife.Kim has converted from atheist to Bahai.Justin has finally fallen in love with a practically perfect person,Except he's a guy.Holly quit teaching first grade to go into arbitrage.Keith runs a health club and Kyle's a computer whiz.Robin, who's on her second divorce and fourth therapist, feels that she's startingTo learn who she is.Brandon has dropped out of medical school to write screenplays.Josh has abjured material wealth to do good.Kirsten and Stacy and Maya and Tracy have opted for partnership trackOver motherhood.Andrea is a professional acupuncturist.Damian's making a killing in real estate.Tara has already given birth to Rebecca and Joseph and Jacob,And plans to have eight.Kevin has given up socks and acquired two earrings.Devon has given up sweets and eats nothing impure.And so, if you want to know how the children are doing,The answer is,We're not exactly sure.Wild ThingI went for a walk in the sun without wearing my sunscreen.I went out of town without making a reservation.I placed my mouth directly upon a public drinking fountain, and took a sip.I didn't bother flossing my teeth before bedtime.I pumped my own gasoline at a self-service station.I ate the deviled egg instead of the cauliflower with low-fat yoghurt dip.I bought, without reading Consumer Reports, a new dryer.I left my checking account unreconciled.I know that the consequences could be dire,But sometimes a woman simply has to run wild.Exercising OptionsI've been told that the vigorous moving-about of my bodyCould discourage all ills from loose flesh to a heart attack.But there isn't a fitness routineThat strikes me as anything less than obscene, soI float on my back.I respect those brave ladies who're burning their flab off with Fonda.They still wear bikinis. I long ago switched to a sack.But my horror of thickening thighsIs surpassed by my horror of exercise, soI float on my back.I admire all those stalwarts out jogging in blizzards and heat wavesBut if I want torture, I'd just as soon head for the rack.Let my upper arms droop, I aspireTo no exertion that makes me perspire, soI float on my back.And I know that I richly deserve the whole world's condemnationFor the firmness that both my torso and character lack.Yes, my body's a total disgraceBut there is this big happy smile on my face asI float on my back.PostmortemsOn the way home with my husband from the dinner party,I thought I'd very tactfully point outThat he shouldn't interrupt, and thatHe shouldn't talk with his hands, and thatHe shouldn't, when discussing politics, shout.And that he shouldn't tell that story while people are eating, and thatHe shouldn't tell that joke for the rest of his life, and thatHe shouldn't have said what he said about that terrible lady in red becauseShe happens to be the-person-he-said-it-to's wife.And that he didn't need that second helping of mousse cake, and thatHe didn't need to finish the Chardonnay.But after thirty years of marriageI finally understand what not to sayOn the way home with my husband from a dinner party.ConfusionI can't figure out if it's gas or a coronary.I can't figure out if it's hostile or benign.I can't figure out if I'm turning into a hypochondriac, or just being sensible.I can't figure out when we stop supporting our children.(At twenty-one? At thirty? Forty-nine?)I can't figure out if not bothering to change the sheets in the guest room in between houseguests is ever an option, or always reprehensible.I can't figure out why men won't ask for directions.(Is this genetic or could they be retrained?)I can't figure out, when dressed in the height of fashion, if I'm looking incredibly chic or slightly ridiculous.I can't figure out if my tale is enthralling or boring.(What are those facial expressions? Spellbound? Or pained?)I can't figure out if wanting all the hangers in my closet to face the same way means I'm obsessive-compulsive, or merely meticulous.I can't figure out if I've gone from stable to stodgy.(Is "reliable" what I want as my epitaph?)I can't figure out if helping yourself to a shrimp from your spouse's plate ought to be viewed as intimacy or intrusion.I can't figure out if I've lost my sense of humorOr if, after fifty, it just gets harder to laugh.And I can't figure out if everyone else has figured everything out, or whether we are all in a state of confusion.To a Middle-Aged Friend Considering Adultery with a Younger ManIt's hard to be devil-may-careWhen there are pleats in your derriereAnd it's time to expose what your panty hose are concealing.And although a husband's fond eyesMake certain allowances for your thighs,Young lovers might look less benignly at what you're revealing.It's hard to surrender to sinWhile trying to hold your stomach inAnd hoping your blusher's still brightening up your complexion,And hoping he isn't awareAs he runs his fingers through your dark hair,That you've grown unmistakably gray in a whole other section.It's hard to experience blissWhen sinus intrudes on every kissAnd when, in the tricky positions, your back starts to hurt you.And when you add all it entailsTo teach him what turns you on and what fails,You might want to reconsider the virtues of virtue.Happiness(RECONSIDERED)HappinessIs a clean bill of health from the doctor,And the kids shouldn't move back home for more than a year,And not being audited, overdrawn, in Wilkes-Barre, in a lawsuit or in traction.HappinessIs falling asleep without Valium,And having two breasts to put in my brassiere,And not (yet) needing to get my blood pressure lowered, my eyelids raised or a second opinion.And on Saturday nightsWhen my husband and I have rentedSomething with Fred Astaire for the VCR,And we're sitting around in our robes discussingThe state of the world, back exercises, our Keoghs,And whether to fix the transmission or buy a new car,0And we're eating a pint of rum-raisin ice cream on the grounds thatTomorrow we're starting a diet of fish, fruit and grain,And my dad's in Miami dating a very nice widow,And no one we love is in serious trouble or pain,And our bringing-up-baby days are far behind us,But our senior-citizen clays have not begun,It's not what I called happinessWhen I was twenty-one,But it's turning out to beWhat happiness is.Text copyright © 1989 by Judith ViorstIllustrations copyright © 1989 by John Alcorn
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Product details
Series: Judith Viorst's Decades
Hardcover: 64 pages
Publisher: Simon & Schuster; Reissue edition (September 3, 1996)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0684832372
ISBN-13: 978-0684832371
Product Dimensions:
6 x 0.4 x 7.5 inches
Shipping Weight: 6.4 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
Average Customer Review:
4.1 out of 5 stars
29 customer reviews
Amazon Best Sellers Rank:
#57,658 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
I love Judith Viorst. Starting with Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, and I've been a fan of her work ever since. Her age related books, from How Did I Get to Be 40 and Other Atrocities all the way through Unexpectedly Eighty and Other Adaptations are wonderful! With her astute observations of the realities of aging, her sharp wit softens the blows of reality with humor. As Viorst points out the poignant pains and inconveniences of each stage of life, she manages to make me laugh at myself. I use these books often as gifts for milestone birthdays.
Judith Viorst has produced a poetry book every decade since she did thirty, and is now up to seventy! The poems are about relationships with family and friends. Many are humorous, many are touching, and all very readable. She really hits home with her lines, and the reader can relate with no trouble at all.She also writes children's books and has written a mystery full of wonderful characters! All three genres are exceedingly good.
I have bought Forever Fifty for many of my friends as they have reached the half century mark. Not only is it poignant and filled with chuckles, it is true. If you are worried about turning fifty, Judith Viorst will help you through it by helping you identify with the age as well as letting you know you are not alone. Her other books, Suddenly Sixty and I Am Too Young to be Seventy, are good as well, but maybe not quite five stars, but that maybe because I am only sixty-four!
great as a gift. very funny. easy to identify with, especially if you're turning 50.
Perfect gift for a 50 year old!
Pithy and pungent little bits and pieces that resonate with most every woman. Make one smile and delight in the fact that others have similar emotions and perspectives.
its ok
Loved each of her books that she wrote for each 10 decades of her (and my) life. she just has a way of summing up all of lifes momments that apply at each stage of ones life. A great 50th birthday gift.
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