My Life in Panties

Hello, Friend,

No Sturm und Drang today.

Phew.

It me. Madge. Margot. The Lady Party hostess with the mostes’. Your sassy senior wordsmith here to share an essay from my book Fifty and Other F-Words.¹

I call these videos read-formances. Like Reader’s Theater, kinda. This video is seven years old, I’m 61 now. Just an FYI. The weird thing about my decades of video content is seeing younger versions of me and thinking, “Wow, why did I think I looked old?” While simultaneously thinking, “Wow, I REALLY look old now.”

This is one of life’s ironies.

True panty confessions: I have settled into an underwear routine that is, quite frankly, comfy and dull. I have ten pairs of the same undies in the same color, black. Fun Facts with Madge: Technically black isn’t a color as it is the absence of color on the color spectrum. Aren’t you glad I’ve shared this with you? Isn’t this the kind of riveting content you were seeking when you signed on to this Lady Party?

I’m older and (theoretically) wiser now. Were I to write a book about life after 60, as I may have mentioned before, it would be titled: Fresh Out of Fucks, and Feeling Fine. Though maybe not as fine as I’d like to be as we find ourselves in this particular and heretofore unfathomable moment. Panties are the least of my worries these days. What with hell freezing over on Monday and the lack of any sign of the good lord and savior coming to lift the true believers off to their promised land so the rest of us can get back to our regularly scheduled debauchery, we all have a sack load of shit to fuel our anxiety.

“Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
If that's all there is my friends
Then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is.”

Is That All There Is? Leiber and Stoller

I figured today it might be nice to take a break from lengthy essays on words and masculinity and propaganda and the Worst Circus Ever and enjoy some lighter fare.

I give you My Life in Panties. More information than you needed, but hopefully it provides a momentary respite from the pending gloom.

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1. (Just so you know, I get no royalties on this book as it is no longer in print. If you’re a left wing lady of a certain age, you might find it comforting. If you’re a left wing gent or a left wing younger lady or a curious human of any political leaning, gender expression, or age, it may offer some insight into aging DISgracefully and the mysteries of the pause that is meno. Or, as I like to call it, meno-fucking-forever.)