Golden girls
The premier of the Golden Girls aired on Sept. 14, 1985. I was 21. The show ran for seven years—its finale airing on May 1992. I loved that show. It was about these four, fabulous, feisty golden girls living together in Miami. And to me, they were an inspiration—hip, funny and sexy—even at their age.
You must understand that at 21, fifty was ancient to me.
Did I ever think that one day I would be a golden girl? No. I don’t mean that I thought I would drop dead before I turned 50 but when you’re 21, fifty is simply unimaginable.
The only thing you really think about when you’re young is how to zap that zit off your face so you can look perfect for the party tomorrow. And of course how to snag that boy you like who unfortunately doesn’t know you exist.
You go to soothsayers. You consult the horoscope. You check Chinese astrology for compatibility. You think you need to lose weight even when your waistline is 24, your weight, 106 and your dress size, 0.
I laugh about it now but in retrospect, I see the humor in almost everything, including the heartbreaking. That’s what I love about being a golden girl.
I love the golden girls and I’m no longer talking about those four fictional women on television. I mean my real-life golden girls—the girls I grew up with, some of whom I’ve known since Kindergarten.
How do fourteen alpha females go on a trip together and not bicker? Well, we all have our eccentricities and we certainly don’t love every person’s share of crazy but hey, we’re 53. We can choose to love each other despite our differing choice of candidates in the last elections. It’s called maturity.
How do fourteen busy women find the time to go on a trip together every year? Well, we never hit 100 percent attendance but we know we’ll get there one day.
Last May, while trying to schedule dinner, we realized we could not find a single day in the month when we would all be in town. Miraculously, there was this one, magical night the following month when all the golden girls would be in town and available.
It’s not easy but we never stop trying to take time out of our crazy, busy schedules to regularly meet for the racy ribbing and the raucous laughter. It’s called love and commitment.
“Do you know that handsome doctor, Dr.___? Hmm…I’ve heard about him. I think I’ve seen him around here. Oh yeah. He is handsome.” Listening to our conversation, the 20- something son of one of the golden girls remarks, “I always wondered if women your age…but I guess you’ve answered my question.”
Oh yes, dear boy, we are old. But we are not dead. Not yet. I used to think that 50 was ancient, almost dead, imminently irrelevant. I was so wrong. We are still so alive and so relentlessly trying every day to stay hot, hip and relevant.
Wish us luck. We need it.
I used to think that 50 was ancient, almost dead, imminently irrelevant. I was wrong