It's been a while since I've been here. Hello!
Instead of going all, "This is what I've been up to lately" on you, I'm just going to cut to the chase. Because I'm really just here to tell you to go and listen to someone else.
Let me explain.
Recently, I've come to terms with the fact that I've reached "woman of a certain age" status. I've reached this conclusion for several reasons, the main one being that I no longer "work out" in the traditional sense of the term. While I am no stranger to physical movement and actually enjoy a good elevated heart rate and sweaty forehead now and again, you won't find me in a gym. So help me, I will never step foot on an elliptical machine ever again. And I gave up running last spring when I realized I can't really run. I hobble and then go to the chiropractor the next day. So what do I do? I power walk.
Yup, that's me. I'm THAT woman. The one in the sensible shoes, iPhone in hand, power walking, Power walking to the grocery store mid-day. Power walking around the lake in the early evening. Power walking around the block with my toddler after dinner. I'll fucking power walk any time I can. It's the only way I can get in a decent workout amidst all the other day-to-day shit I have to do and not have to ice something afterward. And if you power walk long enough, that shit burns calories. It's what women of a certain age do. It's what they've always done and now I totally understand why. And I'm totally ok with that. Because podcasts.
Now, I've always enjoyed a good podcast., especially the murder ones. I used to count down the minutes until the time I could get in my car in the morning or after work— 100% alone—and pick up where Dirty John or Serial left off. But driving around town was pretty much the only time I dedicated to my "stories," as I like to call them. Then COVID happened and blah blah fast forward to working from home and taking daily walks to get out of my house and clear my head from the chaos that was going on inside (and by "inside" I mean both in my head and in my house). Daily walks eventually turned into power walks which eventually turned into power I-can't-wait-to-listen-to-my-podcast walks and here we are. But I've moved on from murder.
Currently, my hands-down-most-favorite podcasts ever are Smartless and The Sarah Silverman Podcast. Neither involve bloody crime but both are worthy of attention. The latter is what brings me here today. What I love about the "Sarah" podcast is that it always makes me laugh literally out loud, no matter where I am, no matter how shitty I feel about whatever is going on in my special little slice of chaos. Her special brand of humor turns me into another form of THAT woman: power walking down the street, iPhone in hand, AirPods in ear, laughing to herself like a fucking crazy lady. A new "Sarah" comes out every Thursday and this Thursday's made me spit out my iced Americano mid stride around the lake because it was equal parts hilarious and true.
Let me explain.
So, there's a certain term we've adopted in our culture when we want to express that something takes guts or boldness or courage: It takes balls. Like, "Wow, that guy must have some balls to talk to the boss like that." Or, "Wow, it really takes some balls to get up on stage and do that." Or, "Grow a pair of balls, why don't ya?" But, why balls, per se? Why have we chosen—or agreed to use—the rather fragile male anatomy to verbally signify courage? This is the question Sarah posed on Thursday's podcast. And a worthy question it is.
Think about it. As she points out, the female anatomy is way more courageous than the male's. Women literally push human bodies out of their vaginas, fer fuck's sake, What's more courageous than that? AND after it takes that birthing beating, it goes mostly back to it's original form (most of the time). What do the delicate balls do? Shrivel up when it gets too cold, hang low when it gets too warm. Doesn't sound too courageous, does it? No. It sounds kinda whiny and freaked out. So what would be a better term than, "Grow a pair of balls"?
Sarah says, "Grow a pair of LIPS!"
Imagine: "It takes LIPS to do that, man!" Or, "Wow! She really has some LIPS to talk to him like that!"
Doesn't it seriously make so much sense? Isn't it perfect?! I fucking love it. And I'm going to start using it. Effective immediately, I'm replacing "balls" with "lips" in my vernacular whenever humanly possible and I suggest you do the same. Let's see what happens. It could be life changing. But first, listen to the Sarah podcast because she's real and real funny and this blog post was inspired by her "bit," as they say in #showbiz. (See below or here. The balls/lips convo starts at about the 9:00 mark. But everything before and after that is pretty good, too. RIP, Norm Macdonald.)
Well, that's that. That's all I had to say after an extended hiatus of writing things other than what my day job requires of me. And all it took was balls to get me here. I mean LIPS! Anyway, I don't know when I'll be back again. But if you need me, just look for the lady power walking around the neighborhood in her sensible shoes, iPhone in hand, AirPods in ears, laughing manically to herself. And don't worry, she's totally OK.
Sincerely,
That Woman...of A Certain Age
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