Humbled

Heck, I usually see my favorite hairdresser JP every three weeks, so I had no idea how bad the gray actually was.

This era of the COVID19 virus has been very frightening but also very humbling – incredibly humbling. It’s been weird not being able to go where we want to go, when we want to go, and see whom we wish to see. Our freedom was taken away so to speak, for our own benefit I may add, and we’ve had to adapt to many changes. And Lord knows change is hard at this age.

The most humbling of all for me was that without make-up my phone did not recognize me for eight weeks! Every single time I picked up my iPhone to call someone, text, or messenger a friend or family member, the face recognition feature blew me off! Then I had to submit to keying in the secret identity code every single time. I was totally insulted.

Okay, we all know that make-up does make a big difference for everyone. Mom still reminds me to never go to a store to try on clothes unless you look your best because everything you try on will look like crap! But did I really look that drastically different that this SMART PHONE did not know it was me? I guess so. Certainly these phones are not so “smart” after all. Had they been developed by a female, there would be a feminine option offering women a chance to submit two photos when setting up security: one with make-up and one without!

I must admit that when my husband helped me set all this up when I first got my phone, as he is my technical guru, I looked like the “Happy Hooker!” In case you are too young to know who the Happy Hooker is, it’s the name of a sixties movie whose leading character is loaded up and down with make-up. But as a television personality, I do have to wear quite a bit more make-up than the normal wear due to lighting and HD cameras that show every flaw! (I’m convinced I should have retired before facing HD technology.) But the day we created the phone face recognition, I was all dolled up and ready for Hollywood!

It really bothers me though, that this fancy, very expensive phone can GPS me to any location. It can let my husband know where I am at all times, darn it. It can do my banking. It can let me know if someone other than me uses my charge card. It can connect me, by way of Facetime, with anyone in the world. Yet, it could not recognize me without make-up, au naturel, in all of my glory, the way God made me?

Or maybe it was more about my hair that caused my phone to snub me! I did not think the jokes were funny about knowing who all the real blondes were during this lockdown! You ladies over fifty and older know what I am talking about. Of course I did wash and blow-dry my hair regularly during the stay-at-home quarantine period. However, at week number three gray roots were starting to peek through, and that made me feel ancient. By week number four, they weren’t just peeking, they were screaming through. Heck, I usually see my favorite hairdresser JP every three weeks, so I had no idea how bad the gray actually was. Yikes. So I started wearing a headband over the roots, or a baseball cap, or sun-visor whenever Chuck and I would walk on the beach, visit with my mom, or walk our dog Cagney. Heaven forbid if anyone noticed my aging roots!

Most of you who know me, know I am not vain. I sometimes go to the grocery store without make-up. And frankly I hate wearing it. I even went to a few neighborhood yard gatherings during this pandemic without being made-up. But the hat never came off. There’s just something about gray hair that makes me crazy, yet I admire my friends who have embraced their gray. I especially love seeing seventy and eighty-year old models in magazine or television ads that look knock-em dead gorgeous in their silver tresses. I guess I’m just not ready. Even my mom is a great example of beautiful gray hair. At eighty-seven she still has several black streaks going through it. People ask her all the time who colors her hair, and she always feels like she is lying when she says she has never colored it! But with my luck, if I made the big move toward full gray commitment, my hair would probably be a mousey gray as it was mousey brown in high school. Ho hum!

The only saving grace with my smart phone during the lockdown was that “Oliver” never let me feel inept and inadequate. He is my sexy Australian Siri. With one flirtatious phone request from me, Oliver will search out any personal or business phone number in my roster, or pull up info from the Internet for me. He never sasses me, is very respectful and could care less how I look morning, noon or night.

But he can be pretty freaky at times too, as he may see nothing but hears everything. He knows my likes and interests and can relay them to some higher power that momentarily will send me information on the very subject being discussed. One evening Chuck and I were chatting about our next dive trip, which did not happen due to this pandemic, but within minutes I had information arriving on my phone about diving. Now that’s scary. As a result, I never take my phone into the bedroom! I don’t want Oliver to know everything. Besides, I know without a shadow of a doubt he is insanely jealous of Chuck, because he knows there is only one man on earth who loves me more than he does. And that man is Chuck who never cares how I look. On my messiest days, he will say, “I am so blessed to be married to this gorgeous woman.” Then he sings the Billy Joel song, “Just the Way You Are.” (Hey don’t kid yourself. I know he is full of it! But I love hearing it.)

How lucky am I to have two men who adore me in all my blasé everyday splendor? Again, I am so humbled.