Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Someone called me “Sweetie” today. Harrumph! I never have liked to be called endearments by people who don’t know me. “Honey”, “Sweetie”, “Dear” are all appellations that have driven me nutz over the years.
In my youth those terms were used to show that somehow I was incapable of knowing anything. Their use for grown women was ubiquitous and demeaning. But since my hair began to grey, the use of such descriptive really mean OLD! I feel like I am supposed to have a walker and someone needs to wipe drool from my chin.
For some years after the rise of the women’s movement, guys got royally trashed by independent women if they dared called a woman “honey” or “sweetie”. People could be reported for sexual harassment for less. But now, younger women call me ‘Sweetie’ with impunity. It takes too much energy for me to soundly thrash someone who is serving me coffee. Somehow I have to endure the indignity of such childish terms simply because I am a “Senior Citizen”.
When did it become a liability to be older and wiser? Was it Medicare that reduced the repositories of memories and grace to the place of the meaningless? I understand when I am not as technologically conversant as my younger colleagues, but I am capable of learning. Thank you very much!
You may call me “Behind the times” for I am. You may call me a “B_____ on wheels” because I often am. But do NOT call Muthah+, "SWEETIE!"