“Dancing at our time of day?” Is a line from the play Dancing at Lughnasa, that I get to say about it not being proper for the so-called “mature” Irish sisters, all unmarried, to attend a dance. “Do you want us to be the laughing stock of the countryside?” The proper Kate, who is ancient— the oldest at 40, the script says.
“Dancing at our time of day?” You bet. I’m in the play aren’t I? (Learning lines and being on stage is more fun and challenging than those Lumosity.com games.) Besides, I am a young 50 right? Wrong. I will be 56 in June. But it says something that in Haines, I seem the right age for Kate. That puts me above the median age here, which I learned from KHNS news is 48.5, making Haines the oldest community in all of Alaska. The good news is we are (mostly) still dancing at our time of day. It says something that I seem about right for Kate, from the Haines perspective, 56 is the new 40. I know three elementary school teachers who will be teaching Caroline (5) when she enters school next year that also taught her mother Sarah (30 next month), and they seemed a lot older than I was when I dropped her off for the first day of school. They are younger now.
I share the pool with an 86 year-old most mornings. Joan’s more awake than I am at 6:30. I think her friend Hazel may turn 100 this year– or is it 99? John Schnabel will be 95 next month. Does it make me old to say I remember back when John said his 80th birthday party would be his last? He threw a party for himself at the Elks Lodge– which passed away a few years back from being too old fashioned– more proof that we are only as old as we feel.
The median age has also just fallen at our house, since baby James (3.5 months), arrived yesterday with his mother Eliza ( 31). There’s that, and the sun finally came out, which takes years off my face. It really makes you want to dance. But bundle up. Winter came back last night.
