Ugh..."As If"

Baby Steps Into Elderhood

Ok, I’m 76. Let’s just put that out there right away.

Some days my body absolutely feels that age. But most of the time, my brain does not register “Old.”

Back in my Gerontology class in the late 70s, 76 was classified as “Young Old.”

I’ve decided to lean hard into the “Young” side of that equation.

But last night at 1:55 a.m., I woke up laughing because my subconscious had apparently queued up a scene from Clueless.

You probably remember it: Alicia Silverstone walking into school while an overconfident teenage boy aggressively misreads the situation.

“UGH… AS IF.”

(You’ll probably have to unmute the TikTok yourself. Apparently modern technology believes silence is sophistication.)

Clueless “Ugh, As If” clip

And yes, there’s a backstory.

For the umpteenth time, “Bob” came by to “check something” regarding the hot tub he’s buying from me. Every visit includes a detailed update about his escape from retirement living and his triumphant return to independent life.

Honestly, I’m rooting for him.

But yesterday, as we walked toward the back patio, he suddenly stopped me in the kitchen, put his arm snugly around my shoulders, leaned toward my ear, and softly asked whether I would like a free… “larger microwave.”

Now, to be fair, he meant an actual appliance.

But the delivery suggested less practical gift and more Lifetime movie scene.

And that, Your Honor, is why I woke up hearing:
“Ugh. As if.”

At this point I could segue into a thoughtful sociological discussion about romance, sexuality, and companionship after 65.

But honestly?

The whole thing feels less like a research paper and more like a subplot from What About Bob?.

Because there’s a strange reality to aging:

Inside, you still feel thirty.

Outside, you catch sight of your thighs in workout clothes and think:
“Well. Gravity wins. And Somebody Out There clearly has a sense of humor.”

It’s humbling.

Which brings me to what may actually be the most important survival skill of aging:

Humor.

Not denial.
Not pretending we’re 25.
Not spirulina powder, collagen peptides, or “active senior” catalogs featuring suspiciously athletic retirees kayaking at dawn.

Humor.

Because if you lose the ability to laugh at the whole absurd production — the mysterious body noises, the pharmacy section becoming personally relevant, the accidental flirting over kitchen appliances — then aging starts feeling tragic instead of profoundly ridiculous.

And maybe that’s why I keep thinking about What About Bob?.

Maybe aging itself is one long exercise in:
“Baby steps.”

Baby steps down the hallway.
Baby steps into the supplement aisle.
Baby steps toward acceptance.
Baby steps past the mirror with forgiving lighting.

Baby steps into Elderhood.

Preferably with a sense of humor.

And possibly a larger microwave.