F-F-Fifty is not the new Forty

Take it from someone who just turned 50- you can just forget you ever heard that  pseudo-comforting phrase, "Fifty is the new forty." I celebrated my half-century mark on September 24th, and let me tell you, ain't no way 50 is anything like 40. The two ages are as different as Jon Stewart and Rick Perry. Nothing in common, nada, zilch, zip. Turning 40 was, for me, not such a big deal. I didn't really look or feel significantly older than I did in my 30's, and I was confident that most doors would open to me if I knocked on them hard enough . Oh, and I had a pretty good photo on my driver's license then, too, which made me feel good about my appearance since the DMV seems to take pride in making even the most attractive people look hideous in their driver's license photos. Turning 50, though, was a complete game changer for me. The only groups that court me and my money now are AARP, the alumni association of my college, and long-term care providers. Employers don't want me (I've had three interviews and no offers in the past few months) any more. Neither do fashion designers, whose new and trendy styles make me look like a woman who's trying in vain to relive her forties. Not pretty. Oh, and I had to turn in my driver's license with the flattering photo on it and get a new one with a black and white photo in which I am not smiling -- not because I didn't want to smile, but because smiling is not allowed by the Virginia DMV in driver's license photos. Also not pretty. Aches and pains are now a surefire conversation starter with my peers, not the conversation killer they were a mere decade ago.
I can only wonder with trepidation what other unwanted changes 50 will bring my way. Will I soon be partaking of the "early bird" special at my favorite restaurant on the weekend?  Will I happily accept the grocery store bagger's offer to carry my bags to the car for me? Will I be one of those people who doesn't request but demands the AARP discount at hotels I stay in? I promise to keep you, pardon the pun, posted.