The Older I Get, The Cooler I Become

I’ll be the first to admit, I wasn’t one of the cool kids in high school.  Or college.  Or early adulthood.  Or middle adulthood. But, as I get older, I care less about how people view me or the things I do, and focus more on who I want to be and what I want to do.  The result?  I’ve become cool.

I write romance novels–sometimes steamy ones–and I’m proud to see my name stamped on the front of them.  The sex scenes may raise some eyebrows,or make some people wonder how I learned all that stuff, but that’s okay.  Sex is an important part of romance.  If the scene calls for it, I’m cool with it .

Years ago, I had a convertible.  I loved it.  It was only a two-seater and not very practical, so I gave it up for a more sensible car … and I’ve regretted it ever since.  I miss zipping down the highway with the sun in my face and the wind whipping my hair.  I miss the balmy nights when the moon and stars were spread across my vision, and I felt like I was part of it all.  So I’m starting to look at convertibles again.  People may think I’m too old for it, but I don’t care, ’cause I’m cool with it.

I take Zumba classes.  I’ve always loved to dance, and I needs to exercise, so Zumba fits needs and wants .  In those classes, I’ve learned to enjoy a lot of today’s musical artists that I never would have listened to–Pink, Maroon 5, Train, and Lady Gaga to name a few.  It’s loosened me up on the dance floor where I used to stand in one place and sort of shift my feet back and forth to the beat.  N,ow I just let it go.  I bump and grind and shimmy until I have to stop and catch my breath, then I go back in for another round.  It may raise a few eyebrows, but I’m cool with it.

Last weekend, my husband and I were in an art gallery, and a print caught our interest.  It was an image from the back of an empty church with an old woman walking down the aisle toward the front.  I was taken by it.  So was DH.  When we got close enough to see the title, it read: Eleanor.   As Beatle fans, we were instantly hooked, couldn’t leave without it, and now the homage to Eleanor Rigby hangs on our bedroom wall.  Years ago, we would have talked ourselves out of it.  Too expensive.  It doesn’t look like typical bedroom art, yada, yada, yada.  But we’re not typical any more.  We’re just us … and we’re cool with it.

A lot of people out there never get to be the cool kids.  They spend their whole lives in pursuit of someone else’s praise or validity.  I’m no longer one of those people.  I’ve learned to be cool … before I get cold.

How about you?  What cool thing have you done lately just because you can?