Elise Sereni Patkotak

Let’s be perfectly honest. There are lots of things about getting older that are just not very pleasant. When packing to travel now, my biggest concern is making sure I have enough of my prescription drugs to get me through the trip.

Getting older means there are more days behind you than ahead of you. It means that the sounds you once mocked your parents for making when they rose from the couch are now coming out of your mouth as you get out of your car. Getting older means that going to Vegas and staying up until 1 AM

I thinking it says something about you when you are walking with a friend through a hotel lobby and suddenly stop and have to ask her if you remembered to comb your hair. I think it says something about your hair when your friend has to stare at it intently for a minute or so trying to decide. I think it says something about you that you have to ask the question in the first place. And no, I’d rather not know what it says. Ignorance is bliss.

And I know now that I do not need to ever worry again about how I dress. I have seen the worse. I am not even a contender.

I depart from Vegas today bloody but unbowed. I still have my laptop. I still have my dignity…ok, maybe on that one – after all, this is Vegas. And I still have my (now somewhat diminished) savings account. I win! 

… and I have not yet had to hock my laptop to pay for the penny slots.

You have not won yet, Las Vegas!

My friend Leslie and I have been through a lot together. It’s one of the benefits of living to old age. You get to have a lot of memories and a lot of laughs and you start not to care who’s looking. I don’t think anyone would have ever thought the two of us would end up being such good friends. Our lives have been very, very different. Yet somehow, through it all, we found out that we could laugh and talk and cry together and feel perfectly good about life. And, of course, the occasional drink to help it

…that it’s always 4 PM somewhere as we ordered a drink with lunch. And now I find out that no matter how much April snow we get in Anchorage, it’s always warm somewhere. But that somewhere is NOT the inside of any given Vegas casino. Bring a sweater!

I owe Sean Parnell an apology. I meant to participate in the march last week to promote the end of the epidemic of domestic violence in this state and encourage men and women to always choose respect in all relationships. But I forgot. There is no other explanation and no way to make it sound good. I simply forgot. I’m old. It happens.

As I read about the march I was struck by the dichotomy of its message to choose respect with the spectacle to which the media has exposed us over the past few weeks of Charlie Sheen.

Even

I will soon be arriving at your glittering palaces where I will once again do my best to pay homage to your penny slot machines by dumping as much money as possible down them as quickly as possible. Please do not force me to play any longer than necessary by teasing me with minor winnings that I only have to sit there longer to shove back down your voracious gullet.

Thank you.