Hiya Club 39ers! We're still kickin' ...

If you were following this site, my apology for the apparent lapse. Actually, I just moved everything to one place ... the official 39 and Holding Club. Please feel free to meander through these archives, dating back to our 2012 beginning - then pop over to the new site where we're still thinking young! 
Remember: It isn't your age ... it's your attitude that counts!TM Cheers!

A Chance Encounter of LIKE = Love … Lust … and Lies

He was hot, passionate, full of promise. It was one of those affairs that burn with white-flame intensity. Ignoring the instinctive warning that hit my stomach at first touch, I smiled coquettishly.

Waves of electricity shook my body with his responding grin of anticipation. Yes! As a 39er (many times over) I wasn’t dead yet!

We began like many other couples; a chance encounter through friends formed an instant, tenuous bond. At first hesitant, we fumbled for words. He held my hand just a bit too long on first touch. A red flag tried to rise, but I shoved it back down.

One brief moment led to more; sometimes with friends, but more frequently, we escaped on leisurely walks down darkened roads. Soon we chatted with the likes of old chums. Morning coffee links lead to early evening happy hours. Eventually, we turned to late night smooches with our favorite libation.

It didn’t take long. In mere weeks, I couldn’t deny it … to like him was no longer enough.   

My 39er Pet Peeve - Fashion Frustration

Originally posted on 39AndHoldingClub site July 19, 2014 - please enjoy again!

Most of the time as a “retiree” (excuse me while I laugh into my coffee), I have no need to wear anything other than the sloppiest of casual clothes.

However, I’m not (yet) a hermit and there are those times when I must face the public. I would like to do so in something other than my 20-year-old halfway decent fashions.

But shopping for clothes is no longer the fun past time that once showed off my bargain finds, demonstrating fashion sense for mere cents.

I have … ahem … “matured.” While I enjoy the added wisdom of my mental maturity, I do not appreciate my body’s insistence on keeping up with my bulging brain.

I will not soon again, however, don a mini-skirt (stop laughing! I once rocked 'em ... and yes, young’uns, you are simply regurgitating our '60s-revolutionary style) … yet nearly all of the current fashions fit me like one! I would like to find something “in my size” in our department stores. 

Does it truly escape the attention of designers and retailers that the FIRST sizes to sell out in a popular style are the AVERAGE and PLUS sizes?? Do you not recognize that “average” sizes in reality, are 12 – 18, NOT sizes 6 – 10?

Have the clothing manufacturers adopted the same stick-it-to-the-consumer ploy as grocery suppliers? 

Do they REALLY believe we don’t notice that we’re paying the same price for a loaf of bread – in which the slices are SMALLER than they were five years ago?!

A Dose of Life with my Morning Cuppa Joe - Pass it On ...

You know, most mornings I power up the laptop and dive into the day without a serious thought. Some days it’s just business – others are a rambling of the mind, wherever it may take me.

My early routine involves quick meditation, lots of coffee, and a hop on the well-traveled global highway.

I make an early pit stop at Words With Friends, to ensure my Pennsylvania friend, JohnHarnish, is up-and-at-‘em today, as usual. It’s our way, at 65+, to make sure the Universe hasn’t done something stupid with us, overnight.

I play the Facebook version of WWF on the laptop. Ugh. I much prefer the tablet edition. Hate Facebook and all the social networking required for business – and some pleasure.

Of course, I enjoy the interaction with friends and sometimes, mere acquaintances. But often, I “hide” many of the posts that are inane and/or inflammatory – that’s my choice – and consider the policing of my feed a time-wasting chore. It does though, shorten the distance between us.

Once in a while, a real nugget crosses my FB path and stops me in my tracks. Today, one comes from PeterShankman’s obviously heartfelt and poignant post flowing from his perch above us. Yes, he is a member of New York’s elite business crowd, but this personal prose emanated from the seat of a plane.