If I am my father's daughter, it is because we can lose ourselves, and find ourselves, in great literature.
At 28 years old, she was certainly a senior citizen in a world of planned obsolescence, but I guess I had taken her for granted. And now that she's gone, I am left high and dry with a pile of dirty clothes.
It startles me to even think this way, but let's be honest. Who has time to linger over the daily paper anymore? With our rushed morning schedules, we barely manage to pick it up from the driveway and toss it in the house.
I'm pretty sure my about-to-be two-year-old granddaughter, Kyla, loves me. When I'm visiting her and leave for five minutes to use the toilet, she cries. I've never been made so happy by someone else's unhappiness.
If I am like my mother, I am the person I always wanted to be. The greatest gift from my mother, the best mother in the world, was how to be a mother myself.
You are about to discover for the very first time anywhere the truth as to what we deeply twisted, incredibly neurotic, middle-aged men are really going through, as we age.
I sounded so peculiar, what with the references to cawfee and my bawss, the long Philadelphia oooo's in "you knoooooow," my hodgepodge Berks County/Philly/Jewish mother affect. Who else tawks like that?
We have a relationship with our phone numbers. We are engaged in an unrealistic romance with them where we boast of our fidelity to them and then abuse them with complete disrespect. Heck, we are so attached to them that we even use them to define ourselves.
Increasingly more unmarried 20-somethings are having babies, the U.S. Census Bureau tells us. What the U.S. Census Bureau doesn't tell us is who is supporting and raising those kids. Here's one not-so-crazy thought: A lot of midlifers are getting pressed into service to help raise their grandchildren.
The economy could be considered a viable reason for helping a young adult get on their feet. But let's take a look at the other half of the experts' scenarios.
Here's what happens when you say "yes" to love. Isaac Lamb, who proposed to his girlfriend Amy Frankel in a viral video called "Isaac's Live Lip-Du...
Now that it's behind me, I can say that the only bad thing about turning 50 is, well, turning 50.
Call me a wuss, but I can't sleep at night if I think I've hurt someone's feelings. I will stay up until I've formulated the perfect apology. Sometimes the person to whom I apologize has no idea what I'm talking about.
I prefer living gracefully. I prefer admitting openly that I struggle with the emergence of an older woman in the mirror, even as I simultaneously see my youth in reflection, along with dreams dashed and dreams yet to embrace.
If we weren't having "hangibers" for dinner, our youngest might request "bazanya" (lasagna) or that old family favorite, "pisketti." At snack time we might have "bow wow pips" (bagel chips) or "Wheat Fings" (Wheat Thins), as our middle child used to say.
"The Boss" in this case is not Bruce Springsteen. It's the household nickname for the painter Pierre-Auguste Renoir, one of the fathers of the Impressionist Movement.
Has it happened? Have I become a crotchety old lady? Do I abhor certain kinds of music because I'm too old to get it? Do my eyebrows fly up at some of the things I see on TV?
I have had a longstanding fear of straight lines. This is ironic because my life has followed quite a traditional linear trajectory: school... job... house... marriage... kids... grandchild. Can a line get any straighter than that? Yet, straight lines and my inability to draw them have long been a personal bugaboo.
The 50+ population is still a swiftly developing consumer market, and it's hitting an all-time high in terms of global aging. While catering to baby boomers may not necessarily fit into every business's products and services, they're a demographic that deserves closer attention.
Sure I have worries and stress and angst and rush around most days like a headless chicken as I try to juggle two kids, a house, a full-time job and a commute that entitles me to a lifetime achievement award from AAA. But on my birthday? Color me content.
A spectacular date night on February 14th doesn't mean a thing. This is not Groundhog's Day for love. You may not be heralded, gifted, or fed, but you can vow this is your last Valentine's Day alone and begin immediately to find love this year.
We are taking way too many drugs for dubious or exaggerated ailments. What the drug companies are doing now is promoting drugs for long-term use to essentially healthy people.
Betty Jane Allshouse knows exactly what people mean when they say, "It's never too late." In November 2012, the 88-year-old retirement home reside...
Whitney Houston died in 2012. So did Marvin Hamlisch and Mike Wallace and Donna Summer and Andy Griffith and Davy Jones and Sally Ride and Neil Armstrong and Sun Myung Moon, and the man who invented the first wireless remote control. And so did my friend Sid.
Soreness in the hips is another occupational hazard, a byproduct of sitting for many hours at a time and living in a city with significant traffic-laced drive times.
