How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE

A Wild Rose


You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, eh? Who said that? I’m not an old dog; I’m a wild rose.

This past weekend I had a new experience. Seven women  celebrated their 60th birthdays. All were born around the same time. Someone decided to organize one big party at Stonewalls, a neighborhood establishment. The music is good there (I heard). The food is hot and the drinks flow was needed.

In the beginning, the restaurant / drinking hole allocated a space with three or four booths. The number of guests looked to be around 25 people. But that was in the beginning. The invitations said to ‘bring your friends’. By Saturday night, the number had swelled to 60 or so.

Picture this: a bunch of 60-year-olds cramped into a space say 6 ft. by 7 or 8 ft.  It made me think of the college or university kids who used to squeeze 50 people into a telephone booth. Remember those days? How about, the number of bodies squeezed into a Volkswagen? Yeah, that’s what it was like except there were no walls or steel frame to hold everyone inside. After all at sixty, you need a little elbow room so you can breathe. Also, not all, but some 60-year-olds (as well us older gals) take up a bit more room than at university or college.

I could hardly make out who was who because the lights were turned down low around 8:00 o’clock. By nine o’clock they were turned down another notch or TEN. Thank goodness all the birthday girls wore hot pink feathered boas. Very helpful for finding them in the dark to wish them happy birthday.

I noticed a lot of groping going on.  I couldn’t understand why at first but it was truly innocent. The elder group couldn’t see where they were going so they grabbed whatever they could while fighting  the crowd  on their way to the bar. It was Saturday night, after all, and super packed. Wall to wall. I also learned it’s hard groping your way back with a drink in your hand. Especially if you don’t want to spill it or you’re ticklish and someone needs to lean on you to find their way back to the table.

Everybody came to hear the band. The misconception was that the band would start at nine o’clock. Wrong. Might I mention it was a YOUNG band but took an hour to setup and stared way after nine. People were looking at their watches. Everyone (those 60 and up) was getting anxious. Ten o’clock came and went. Where had the band disappeared to?

Finally, the music started with a crash of drums and horns and a sax. Those skinny little girls on stage looked no older than fourteen and fifteen. Skinny but with knockers.  I couldn’t believe how they could belt out a tune. Wow. They played well and gyrated and slithered better than Cirque de Soleil. And the girls didn’t wear much. I was feeling embarrassed for them.

After one set, the birthday people and their friends disappeared. I hung out with one birthday girl and a younger friend of hers. They wanted to hear another set and we were car-pooling so I stayed too. I admit by 10:00 or so I had started to yawn with the best of them but I’m proud to announce I didn’t get home until 1:30 a.m.

I hoped my daughter would hear me come in and give me hell! No luck.


Author: Let's CUT the Crap!

I'm getting a little LONG in the tooth and have things to say about---ouch---AGEing. I believe it's certainly a state of mind but sometimes it's nice to hear that you're NORMAL. I enjoy reading by the truckload. I'm a grandma but I don't feel OLD although I'm not so young anymore. My plan is to stick it out as long as I can on this lovely planet and only will leave it kicking and screaming!

25 thoughts on “A Wild Rose

  1. sounds like you had some fun, even if it did include some unintentional groping and waiting around for the music to start … and probably surprised yourself in the process a bit … 1:30 a.m.??? wild rose, indeed!


    • Some of it was fun. The rest of it found me TIRED. Haven’t gone to a bar for many years that’s why the singers made me embarrassed for them. One time I was on holiday at a beach resort. We were in a tiny grocery store in the checkout line. An older lady dropped her bag of potatoes and the bag broke spilling potatoes every which way. She got down to pick them up and grabbed me by the ankle and then higher up my let to get up. And THAT was in broad DAYlight!! Thanks for stopping by and commenting. I’m sort of liking the ‘wild rose’ talk now.


  2. 70 yos having a birthday celebration– having been born near the same time—-:); that struck me as funny lol. Sounds like you had a decent time. Too bad your kid didn’t call you out for breaking curfew:)


    • Nobody is 70 YET! OUCH! They were sixty and I am not that close to 70 yet but we still had a good time. I paid for it the next day though because it was Daylight Saving Time so I lost an hour there too. Thanks for stopping by to comment.


  3. Sounds like a great night out – wish I could have been there!


    • I’m sure you would have entertained the ladies with stories of your exciting travels while they were waiting (yawn) for the band to finally come on. I haven’t done anything like that for about 15 years. What can I say. I was brought up in a cabbage patch. Thanks for coming by. Love hearing from you.


  4. Too funny! I love how you write. Glad you had so much fun – now that’s how to par-tay!


    • Thank you! However, I have another confession to make. This was Daylight Saving Time so I lost an hour. Then I had to sleep somewhat longer and waste more of an already shortened day. I was THAT tired! Thanks for coming around and commenting.


  5. What a fun night! I love the idea of the party goers wearing pink feather boas – too cute!


    • At least we had some hot pink moving, groping, weaving dots in the dark to follow. I thought it was cute too but did not have a hand in the idea. Not being used to partying till all hours, I was BUSHED the next day (Daylight Savings to boot). Thanks so much for commenting. I like reading your posts too.


  6. What fun! When I turned 60 all I did was get a tattoo…


    • What’s wrong with that? It never occurred to ME. Just think how many think never did. I THOUGHT you were just a KITTEN? Actually, even younger. How about THAT?


    • If you were true to yourself, don’t you think you were entitled? You are a wonderful free spirit from what I see in your blog. I love it. The kitty is cute too but that’s YOU talking and I enjoy YOU there.


    • What’s ho-hum about that? I don’t have the guts to get a tattoo. Sounds like a big deal to me. Anyway, since the 60-year-old gals are younger than me, I must confess I still seem to be catching up on my sleep since the weekend. (I hate admitting that so don’t tell ANYbody, OK?) LOL Nice hearing from you. Opinion exchange at this age is better than a cookie exchange. Already I’ve spent hours in front of my monitor. No cookies but I can feel my butt shift and spread today. Sigh.


  7. Wow! What a stayer. My perfect night out is home and in bed by 10 or earlier! What a funny night and story! hehehe 🙂


  8. Good on you! I hope your sleepometer is almost full again 😉


  9. I’m following your blog because I really enjoy reading your Wild Rose post. 🙂


  10. you are such a hoot. Know what you mean about the band starting late though- I’m usually pooped by the time they start to play


    • I haven’t been out like this for many years (won’t say how many but a LOT) so I figured I’d take in all I could while I could. Took me a week to catch up on my sleep. Was it worth it? Hey, I’d not DEAD yet but it was TIRING. Even when I was young waiting until 9:00 pm till the band came on seemed like a LONG time. Now 10:00 o’clock (these days) is like FORever! Know what I mean? Sure you do. Thanks for commenting. Nice to hear from you again. Long time.


  11. Sounds like fun and a lot like many of my nights out…waiting for the music to start, looking at the clock, wondering should I stay or should I go. A wild rose s a wild rose is a wild rose 🙂


Some things in life are complicated. Let's keep it simple.

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