So it hit me in Body Pump Class (if that doesn’t set the scene, nothing will!) There I was, shoulder to shoulder, with my perky friends lifting our barbells and I am feeling fine. We are, of course, a varying range of ages, but as I have said, age has lost its significance to me lately. What does it matter if they are dropping their tots off in babysitting while I take calls from my college girls? I had my children young. We are united in our rhythmic pumping and that’s what matters, right?

Then it happened. Someone brought up the new cast of Dancing With The Stars (another post perhaps on obsessive reality shows). It seemed Phyllis aka Cloris Leachman would be the senior novelty dancer. Laughter from me, as I am much younger that Cloris, of course. And then, a questioning voice pierces the air, “Who is Cloris Leachman?” Being the pop culture diva I like to think I am, I roll my eyes to remind the sheltered of Cloris’ long list of favorites-Young Frankenstein and High Anxiety. And of course, the MOST important Mary Tyler Moore connection. Then I notice…..

Most of my “friends” are still stumped on her identity! They can’t all be that sheltered? It hits me, my friends are now a different generation than I am. When did this happen? What does this mean? When did I stop being the young one? Once again, I have lost track of time.

As MTM would say, “Oh, Rhoooooda!”

 

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