The Organ Recital

I remember getting into the pose shown in the photograph above with the greatest of ease. This was for a Chanel ad back in the early 80s. If I were to try to recreate this yogini pose today I’d be putting in an emergency call to the Jaws of Life to pry me off the floor.

Recently at our gal get togethers we started putting a time limit on what ails us or our significant others. We call it the 5 minute organ recital. Here we are, folks in the grand parade of life, just like our parents. All of these aches and pains come creaking and groaning into our daily lives demanding our attention.

As we gracefully glide through the years, our bodies often serve as a running commentary on the passage of time. One particularly vocal and humorous aspect of this aging symphony is our joints.

Let's start with shoulders, shall we? Those ornery joints are like the old uncle who insists on telling the same boring stories at every family gathering. One day, you're lifting bags of groceries like a champ, and the next, you can barely lift your morning coffee without wincing in pain. Ever try to reach for something on a high shelf? It's like an Olympic sport for your shoulders, complete with the risk of a dislocated punchline. "And here comes the wobbly reach! Will they make it? The crowd holds its breath…"

Hips are a whole nutter kettle of fish. They’re like the stubborn mule of our bodies. They'll be just fine until one day, out of the blue, they decide to throw a hissy fit, and you're limping around like a pirate with a peg leg. They're also experts at embarrassing you in public. Try to gracefully get out of a low-slung car door, and suddenly, you're doing a bizarre interpretive dance for the whole parking lot. Same goes for getting out of a patio chairs as you fling yourself on the grass in a downward dog pose trying to right yourself.

Knees are the drama queens of the joint world. They'll stage a protest over the slightest provocation, and it's like they're auditioning for a part in a Shakespearean tragedy. "To bend or not to bend, that is the question," they ponder, but mostly, they choose "not to bend," leaving you looking like a broken marionette trying to walk. Going downstairs becomes a dramatic ascent, complete with sound effects reminiscent of a haunted house.

Elbows, are tricky devils, and have a penchant for going rogue when you least expect it. One minute, you're reaching for a coffee cup, and the next, you're inadvertently auditioning for the role of a windmill in a community theater production of Don Quixote. The elbow wobble is an advanced maneuver only mastered by the most seasoned in the art of aging.

And then there are ankles—always ready to trip you up when you least expect it. One minute, you're strolling along, and the next, you're flailing in the air like a cartoon character who just stepped on a banana peel.

Then when you think you’ve seen and felt it all, aging joints team up for the grand finale: the Backache Ballet. It's a performance that can strike at any time, turning you into a human question mark. You'll find yourself locked in a gravity-defying position, pondering life's mysteries while your joints do their best to outdo a pretzel.

All of this and I haven’t touched on the great metabolism heist, wrinkles, the memory roulette and the biological alarm that hates sleep. Those can wait for another time.

Not unlike pregnancy—no one can prepare you for the golden years. Many of us witnessed it with our parents. But for some reason or another, we thought we’d be immune.

Aging is inevitable and aging joints may have a peculiar sense of humor, but they certainly know how to keep life interesting. Laughter is the best medicine, and sometimes, you've got to chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

So, embrace all that comes with these creaks, pops, and unintentional pratfalls. After all, it's part of the show that is growing older, and it's a comedy act that only gets funnier with time. Let’s keep on wobbling, limping, and laughing our way through the golden years – it's the joint's way of reminding us that getting older doesn't mean we have to grow up. And it’s definitely better than the alternative.