Slowly, Surely and Inevitably It Happens. You’re . . . : Getting Old

It begins innocently enough, or so you think.

One day those fine lines around your eyes turn to wrinkles. Or that impossibly young salesgirl starts addressing you as “Sir” or “Ma’am.” Or that new boss calls you into his office and casually asks when you plan to retire.

For Paul Mones, a 37-year-old Santa Monica lawyer, it was something as innocuous as a photograph. “Someone took a picture of me from high above. And, for the first time, I really got a good look at my bald spot.”

Ruth Von Blum’s day of reckoning came when she needed bifocals. “I realized I couldn’t see up close anymore. So I got those little half-glasses,” recalls the 45-year-old Mar Vista software designer. “Then I looked in the mirror, and, all of a sudden, I felt older.”

No matter what causes it, the result is devastatingly similar: You find yourself feeling a full-blown paranoia about getting older.

“Such episodes are known as ‘age reminders,’ and we all experience them in the course of our lives,” says Dr. Gary Small, an assistant professor of psychiatry at UCLA School of Medicine who specializes in geriatrics. “Up until then, you think you’re going to live forever. But they serve to shock us into the reality that we too are mortal.”

Some Age Reminders

Last month, several age reminders occurred disturbingly one after the other. First, an icon of ‘60s activism, Abbie Hoffman, died without warning at a relatively young age, startling former fellow “youth movement” members into feeling old before their time.

Then, sports idol Kareem Abdul-Jabbar ended his regular-season Lakers career--even though many fans can still vividly recall his early glory days as Lew Alcindor.

Finally, when the First Lady of Television, Lucille Ball, passed away, her death at 77 was all that much harder to accept because “I Love Lucy” reruns had made her appear ageless.

“A 39-year-old woman called me on the radio and said that Lucy’s dying really upset her,” KGIL radio personality Carol Hemingway says. “And when I asked why, she said it was because she had spent so much of her youth watching Lucy on TV that she had grown to believe they were close in age.”

Gerald Davison, the chairman of the psychology department at USC who’ll turn 50 next month, was disconcerted to discover how much Hoffman’s death upset him. “It reminded me of when I was just starting out teaching in New York 23 years ago. It gave me a sense of ‘Oh, look at all the time that has passed.’ And yet it doesn’t seem so long ago, in a sense.”

The effect was to make Davison’s mind race ahead. “I thought, ‘Well, if the past 20 years went by so fast, then what’s going to happen with the next 20 years when I’ll be 70? I may be dead.’ And, most of the time, people don’t want to think about that a great deal.”

Except, of course, for Woody Allen, who has made a career out of this obsession.

For everyone else, however, realizing that you’re getting on in years becomes an important time to reflect not only about the road already traveled but about those paths that still lie ahead. No doubt, unsettling thoughts will creep into your consciousness: Will you ever become the president of your company? Is your dream of sailing around the world never coming true?

Has the time come to trash your surfboard and take up golf? Should you give the plastic surgeon a call? If you really are as old as your driver’s license says, then isn’t it time you finally started acting like a grown-up? That’s why Eileen Austin, a Beverly Hills high-yield bond analyst who just turned 40, felt it was “like crossing the Rubicon. If I had any reaction, it was to take mental and emotional stock of my life and to inventory what’s important. And I think you start to ask yourself whether you’re really happy.”

Experts say that how well you deal with getting older depends not only on your own individual attitude but also on society’s. So if your first impulse is to laugh nervously and crack a few jokes about “joining the geriatric set,” you’re probably not alone.

“One very common expression of these feelings is ageism, which is a prejudice against old age that is seen throughout our society,” Small notes. “And yet, while our reaction may be to distance ourselves from anyone who’s old, it’s one group that if we’re lucky we’re all going to become members of.”

Ken Dychtwald, gerontologist and author of the book “Age Wave: The Challenges and Opportunities of an Aging America,” indicts American society for being psychologically seduced only by the allures of youth and psychologically blinded to the advantages of age.

“There could be nothing more embarrassing, degrading and neurotic than to be growing old in a culture that believes age is a terrible thing. But I’m optimistic that it’s going to change,” contends Dychtwald, who also heads the San Francisco Bay-based communications and research firm Age Wave Inc.

“It’s going to be a struggle. A lot of these psychological issues are deeply programmed. But I’m convinced that over the next several years you’re going to see Americans more and more appreciate many of the capabilities that come along with extended life. And as further breakthroughs in preventive health care, medicine, genetic engineering and pharmacology are anticipated, then the aspect of aging that people are most uncomfortable with, which is physical decline, is going to be battled. So we can begin to envision a future where we might live 80, 90, 100 years but have the physical vitality of a 50- or 60-year-old.”

Age-Old Question

What exactly is old age? That’s a good question. It’s often defined as starting at age 60, yet a 55th birthday is ancient enough to get you membership in the American Assn. of Retired Persons.

Today, with life expectancies averaging 75 (72 for men, 79 for women), Daniel Thursz, president of the National Council on the Aging in Washington, is using a new measuring stick to gauge senior citizenry: “young-old,” which he defines as 60-75; “middle old” 75-85, and “old old” 85-plus. (Other experts also humorously refer to these groups as “go-go,” “slow-go” and “no-go.”)

It also may be cheering to note that the fastest-growing age group in America is centenarians, Thursz says. “And these 33,000 Americans over 100 years old,” he laughs, “are going to keep Willard Scott very busy.”

Still, even the so-called “young-old” forget they’re perceived as over-the-hill.

For instance, Thursz, 60, was shocked to discover recently that he was entitled to senior citizen’s meals at Denny’s. “It’s meant as a compliment. But the first time I used it, it was embarrassing and painful,” he recalls. “Then you begin to realize that you’re saving a lot of money. But, still, some of my colleagues refuse to take advantage of it.”

Beverly Hills painter Pascal, 75, insists that others are more aware of age than she is. “I’ve had people tell me, ‘Oh, I would never be an artist for anything,’ because they’ve seen one of my paintings hanging in a museum with a sign that says, ‘Pascal, 1914--’. And I say, ‘As long as there’s no number after that dash, what do I care?’ ”

‘Better Than I Was Then’

Like many older people, Pascal knows that mentally she’s still a young adult. “But I’m better than I was then. I’m doing the same things I did at 30, but now I’ve reached a peak in my profession in terms of expertise.”

But those pesky age reminders simply won’t go away. “The other day,” she relates, “my husband and I were driving down a street when we saw this gray-haired woman start to cross in front of us and then hesitate. And I said, ‘Oh, James, stop . She’s an elderly person.’

“Then we both started to laugh because I’m sure she was my age.”

Of course, not everyone sees growing old as some hideously cruel joke that life plays on all of us. Paul Von Blum, a 46-year-old UCLA lecturer, claims actually to like the process, especially when he considers what it has done for his career. “I have absolutely no anxiety about it. For the first time in my perception, simply because I’ve been around longer, I have a greater visibility and a much better opportunity to be listened to.”

A Case Study

But this former Berkeley “free speech” activist was surprised when students began lining up to take oral histories from him about that period of unrest. “It’s flattering that I was perceived to have something to offer. But I’m also bemused. Because in my own research, I’ve had occasion to interview artists who were in their 70s and 80s and so I envision the kind of people who do oral histories as old people.”

He can even laugh about one recent incident in which a student’s tape recorder didn’t work. “She was obviously very flustered by that, and I invited her to come back the next day. ‘I’m sure I’ll still be here,’ I told her, though I don’t know if she believed it.”

Von Blum’s wife, Ruth, however, isn’t nearly as pleased. And the way she feels has nothing to do with the fact that her boss is six years younger than she is. (“But he has gray hair, so it’s OK.”) Instead, it’s knowing she’s not a Wunderkind anymore that’s most disturbing. “When I was in my late 20s and mid-30s, I was considered somewhat of a prodigy career-wise. But now that I’m in my mid-40s, it’s almost expected that I should be doing well.”

Fear of Baby Boomers

Probably no other group has feared the aging process more than the baby boomers, whose motto growing up was “Don’t trust anyone over 30.” It’s little wonder, then, that they already have found their trip to senior citizenship loaded with emotional land mines.

“All of a sudden, you go to your dentist and he’s younger than you are. That’s what gets me,” Hemingway explains. “Before I didn’t trust anybody over 30. Now, I don’t trust anybody under 30.”

Sure, you can joke that you know you’re getting older when Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven” is being played on the easy-listening channel. But gerontologist Dychtwald predicts “a mass neurosis of the highest order” among baby boomers. “We’re going to have 100 million old people wishing they were young.”

That’s why Dychtwald foresees the Baby Boom helping to “redefine the stages of life so that their age will always be very ‘in.’ That’s why now that most of them are in their 30s and 40s, it’s totally acceptable that Linda Evans is the sexiest woman in America, or that Ringo Starr is still great even though he’s a grandfather with gray hair.”

A Little Neurotic

At 39, Steve Easley, a Newport Beach real estate agent and yacht broker, doesn’t think he’s any more neurotic about aging than other baby boomers. Well, maybe just a little. Like the night he saw some girls in their early 20s sitting at a bar recently.

“Before I would have picked them up. Now I thought, ‘Geez, I was flying combat assault machines in Vietnam the year they were born.’ ”

And though he doesn’t feel as if he’s getting older, “it’s harder to get back in shape if I let myself go. And I just bought $200 tickets to see the Beach Boys while I would not pay to see a Bon Jovi concert. And I’m reaching the age when I probably won’t have grandkids.”

He pauses. “But, then, that doesn’t bother me because when you have grandkids, you’re considered old !”

Facing the Facts

Elizabeth Ames, USC’s national media coordinator, is proud that at 34 she stays fit and attractive. “But then I see women in their mid-20s and realize I don’t look like them anymore,” she sighs. “I guess it’s too late for me to launch a career as a sex symbol.”

What bothers Ames is not so much the wrinkles as much as “the lack of control over them even though I’m doing everything right. But those lines will just keep coming anyway.”

To feel better she seeks solace in the cosmetics department at Robinsons. “During the Santa Anas recently, I must have spent $60 on moisturizer!” she recalls with horror.

Years Take Their Toll

Do women find that aging is more psychically scarring than men? Ruth Von Blum says definitely. “I think it’s better now than it was 20 years ago,” she maintains. “But the old saying still holds true that men get more sophisticated and desirable while women just get older.”

That’s why Von Blum is seriously considering plastic surgery. “I read in one of those women’s magazines that if you lie down on a bed and look at yourself in a mirror that you’re holding above your face, then you’ll get a sense of what plastic surgery can do for you. Well, I did it, and I liked what I saw,” she relates.

“It bothers me that gravitational forces are finally catching up with me. Everything is sagging. And the fact is that I feel younger than the way I look.”

But, certainly, men must be experiencing the same sense of disappointment when they look into the mirror. “I have a recollection of teaching at SUNY in 1968 and seeing these kids talking together,” Davison says. “And one of them was ridiculing a professor who had a lot of wrinkles in his face. And I wanted to say something to the kid, like, ‘What’s going to be your secret that you’re not going to get wrinkles.’ ”

Davison can’t help but smile. “Boy, I’d sure like to see that kid today.”

YOU’RE NOT AS YOUNG AS YOU THINK WHEN...

Power-walking seems as physically challenging as a contact sport. You hear a Rolling Stones song on the Muzak in the elevator. Jane Fonda was starring in “Barbarella” the last time you wore a bikini. You photocopy Thomas Guide pages with the machine at maximum enlargement. You look back nostalgically on your “mid-life” crisis. You notice antique stores selling Underwood typewriters. And you buy one. The cop who pulls you over looks just like your son. You’ve stopped counting freckles and started counting age spots. Your favorite outfielder is elected to the Hall of Fame. Posthumously. You can no longer recall your true hair color. You remember the first time the outfit you just bought was in style. You know what LSMFT stands for. You realize when Errol Flynn was your age he’d been dead for eight years. You watch a program on the Golden Age of TV and sing along to the “Mr. Ed” theme. You wonder what happened to the Ph factor in shampoos.

You look down and see your mother’s hands. You can’t wait for Baskin-Robbins to come out with an “oat bran” flavor. The salesgirls laugh when you suggest wearing white at your wedding. You think Crowded House is a new federal housing program. Your teen heartthrob was Marlon Brando. Marlon Brando?