Twinkle: Viva Viagra

So I'm in Door County, which is adorable and quaint, and possesses a nice blend of families with little kids, and girlfriends away on a weekend together, and also vibrant seniors. And it's a little like living in a Viagara commercial. I keep seeing them sitting around, French kissing on benches in front of charming harbors, or stepping out of Porche convertibles. And we all know where they're headed--straight for a passion-filled afternoon set to an Elvis soundtrack. (Not that I'm knocking it. I love the King, especially in the early years, before the sequins and certainly before he became the voice of illicit geriatric shenanigans). 

Don't get me wrong--I'm glad that 60 is the new 40. I couldn't be more thrilled that I live in the age of botox and cougars and sassy seniors who are enjoying themselves. It bodes well for us all. I just don't want to live it until I'm actually living it, you know? I'm also slightly jealous of the post-menopause set, who are apparently getting a second go-round at consequence-free Free Love while I'm still somewhat of a slave to biology. Those d*mn Baby Boomers win every time.