Being over 40 is strange. One week I get hit on by a store employee, the next I’m given the senior discount without being asked about it (and I live in a back-asswards society that tends to see the second situation as more offensive than the first!). It seems to depend on what I’m wearing, how my hair is done – I’m a chameleon at this age. I can hide my youth, I can hide my age. I’m in the middle, middle-aged.
I started writing this song when I was out for a run at the end of February two days after the second big snowstorm in a week. The sick-of-winter time of year. I haven’t run much the past month or two because there’s been so much ice, so I was feeling out of shape and a bit cranky at first. But the sun was shining, and I got into my groove, and I discovered, I’ve still got it!
It doesn’t matter what you think when you look at me; if I know I got it, I got it. “It” is something we are all born with, and can joyfully exhibit for our whole lives. It can shine through for that brief part of life when we match our youth-crazed culture’s definition of attractive, but it’s way more than that.
I spent the last couple weeks watching the Winter Olympics, all those toned young bodies, and the “old” ones slightly over 30 wistfully discussing the end of their careers. I think, oh you cuties, there’s so much ahead of you, you’ve only just begun!
But that’s only if you want to.
Here’s my song for week nine of #songaweek2018:
I’m just a little bit thick in the head and the middle
Just a little bit sick of playing second string fiddle
But don’t you worry bout me boy
I’ve still got my voice
Don’t feel bad for me my sweet
I’ve still got my feet
And they know how to go
I’ve still got it
Down to the soles of my feet
I’ve still got it
I’m more than what you see
She’s just a little further back on the same road as me
When she gets to where i’m at I think she’ll get what I mean
Aw, don’t you worry bout me dear
I’m still breathing here
Don’t go crying for me honey
I’ve even got a little money
I’ve still got it
Down to the soles of my feet
I’ve still got it
I’m more than what you see
So don’t you worry bout me son
I still know how to run
Don’t you worry bout me dude
I’ve still got it pretty good
I’ve still got it
Down to the soles of my feet
I’ve still got it
I’m so much more than what you see
Julia Bloom 
Once again – I gotta say – I enjoy your reflections in your intros as much as your poetry in your songs (sometimes even more so.) Your writing (in all forms) is so honest, so real, so relevant. It touches us where we live. It arrests our focus and briefly directs our gaze on things we’d otherwise take for granted but, because of the 3 minutes you place them in front of us – we’re better, we’re challenged, we’re awakened, we’re energized. Thanks for honoring all of us “everypersons”; for opening our hearts to see others around us who actually need the things about us that we overlook, that we devalue, the things about which we feel self-conscious; thanks for showing us how to connect with treasures that are already ours; with a world full of possibilities; full of connections that could make a difference for ourselves, for others; and nudge us in community toward healthy life.
Thanks so much! I love you Dad.
This is so much fun. Being in your 40s is so much fun. Thanks for highlighting that. Are you in Colorado (looking at your word cloud)? I’m in Longmont.
Hey Thom, thanks for listening! I was in Colorado (Loveland) but moved back to Minnesota this past summer. Not sure if you remember but our mutual friend Janna introduced us through Facebook when I first moved to CO; sorry we never got to actually meet! But I’ve always enjoyed your writing and glad to see your daily poetry posts this month.