Fabulous 50’s!


At this point in my life, I always eat the cupcake. I highly recommend it.

By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher

Growing up I often heard my elders use the phrase, “Youth is wasted on the young.” I never quite understood why they would say that, much less lament the sentiment when it was spoken. It always seemed a bit oxymoronic to me. Yes, I read a lot as a child.

Now that I’ve left the age of 50 not only in the dust, but collecting dust as it’s been quite a while since I passed that malicious milestone, I believe I get it. I can remember my twenties, if I try really hard, and I was fabulous. I have the pictures to prove it. I was working on an exciting career, had an amazing wardrobe because my clothing size was in the single digits, lived inner loop in my beloved H-Town, had enough money to do what I wanted and the freedom to do exactly as I pleased. Thursday thru Sunday nights were out on the town nights with friends leaving Monday thru Wednesday nights for recovery, wardrobe selection and planning, although we really didn’t plan much – we simply did. Somehow, it all worked out, and we had a blast, except on Monday mornings. Those Monday mornings at work were tough, but we rallied sometimes barely making it until 5 pm. We were young; we bounced back quickly. There was drama galore, a cast of characters that ranged from suspicious to sublime and clubs – lots of clubs – and we knew all of the owners. We were reality shows in the making in the 90s.

As I think on those years that should have been so much fun and so worry-free, I distinctly remember the internal and external drama. Now that I look back and can compare with a mature mind, I know that I was fabulous! But at that time, being fabulous was the one thing I was certain I was not.

There were so many petty worries as a young woman. Ridiculous worries that seemed monumental at the time. I’ve gained two pounds in a year? I had a zit? My life was over because that gorgeous guy I met hadn’t called in two whole days? Earth-shattering situations that preoccupied my young mind needlessly and made me question myself incessantly. Oh, what I would give to have those types of worries today, and oh, how I would handle them so very differently.

Just what every girl wants for her birthday – her name in lights! Thank you Fernando – te quiero mucho!

Up only two pounds in a year? Winning! Eat a cupcake and drink an entire bottle of wine.

A zit? I’ve got 12 products at my immediate disposal to cover that puppy up, and if none of them work, who really cares? Like so many of life’s little annoyances, you will be able to scrub it away very soon. Eat a cupcake and drink an entire bottle of wine.

He hasn’t called in two whole days? Heck, any man is lucky if I answer their call at all. I’ve got a husband and a son. The last dang thing I need is another man to deal with. Eat a cupcake and drink an entire bottle of wine.

Today is my 57th birthday, and I now see it’s all about perspective – not so much a wasted youth – but an immature perspective, one that hasn’t fully grown up yet. Today, I have a steely perspective, well-worn and well-established. Folks can try as hard as they like to cajole or shame me into another way of thinking. Good luck with that. Many worthy adversaries have tried and failed.

So, what’s my takeaway for 57? You guessed it. Eat a cupcake and drink an entire bottle of wine.

See y’all next week – on the porch!


Patti Parish-Kaminski

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