Dear Jane

A commercial flashed as I was watching TV and it was a promo for a Queen Latifah’s show. Jane Fonda was a guest and they showed a little flash of a moment of Jane walking out on stage. Holy Shit, she looked amazing! I Googled Jane Fonda Queen Latifah and whoopty do, up popped several still pictures of Ms. Fonda on set. Here she is at 77 freakin years old! SEVENTY SEVEN!

Yes, I know we could all look that good if we had unlimited funds and access to the best plastic surgeons, but before you judge, let me remind you of these faces… who also have big bucks and docs at their beck and call and, well, you know… they look different. That's the nicest thing I can say. I do believe genetics has served Ms. Fonda well.

After Googling her age, because I was curious, I tripped over her quote regarding aging and emotions:

"But I find my emotions are way more accessible than they were when I was younger and I've come to feel it has to do with age. I have become so wonderfully, terribly aware of time, of how little of it I have left; how much of it is behind me, and everything becomes so precious.
"With age, I am able to appreciate the beauty in small things more than when I was younger perhaps because I pay attention more. I feel myself becoming part of everything, as if I bleed into other people's joy and pain. Maybe, without my being conscious of it, there's the reality that in a few decades (if I'm lucky) I will be in the earth, fertilizing some of the very things I look at now and tear up over."

I love that! I too feel more weepy now than I ever have been, and well up at the silliest things. I have also become much more aware of my time left on earth and realize the insignificance of things that I once thought so precious. Like stuff I have collected. I have looked around my house with older eyes and no longer see treasures. I see stuff, that’s only value is to add a little pleasant aesthetics to my every day view. I now yearn for the things money can’t buy like Time; Solitude; Tranquility; Joy.  And maybe, just maybe, I’d like to get rid of the turkey neck I inherited genetically (thanks dad). I want Jane’s neck, and her hair, and that fabulous smile. 

Dear Jane, 
You kind of scared me in the 60’s, but I think you are and always have been a beautiful woman.  Seventy seven, Jane! Dayum! 
OK, you are officially on my fantasy dinner with fantasy friends list. You’re in good company. Who would you like to sit next to? Your choices are…

Bob Keeshan (a gentle hero from my childhood)

Fred Rogers (although it’s hard to picture him without also picturing Eddie Murphy & SNL, he is another gentle hero I admire)

Marilyn Monroe (I want to apologize to her for all of society who ate her up and spit her out)

Jane Goodall (flawless dedication to her cause)

Walter Cronkite (I trusted him as much as I trust God)

Mohammad Ali (charisma at its finest)

And me. 

I promise not to stare too much. Ha! Who am I kidding! I’m going to stare the crap out of you after I hug the crap out of everybody else. Call me.