This blog is about outrage against stereotypes of age, sex and marital status. I also rant about the medical profession and talk about comedy. When you put these together, being old, single and female completes the perfect trifecta, making you a target for society in general and the medical profession in particular.

I’m not amused when a fifty-something author jokes about not remembering her ATM pin number. I know my pin number. I also know my library card number and my credit card numbers. It makes life easier.

I’m even less amused when someone asks me if I use email. I tell them I build websites.

I don’t laugh at jokes about old people. Google “old people having fun funny.” Now try, “black people having fun funny.” We laugh at children, cats, and older people who are just being themselves.

It’s time to stop accepting a second place, subservient role just because you’ve had a birthday. Instead of quiet acceptance, let’s belt out the old George Jones anthem, “I don’t need no rocking chair.” Let’s recite Dylan Thomas: “Do not go gently into that good night. Old age should rave and burn at close of day …”

This is a blog for raving, for gym memberships instead of rocking chairs, and replacing calm acceptance with a few well-chosen four-letter words. I want to be blown out like a candle, while I’m still burning.

Why sneakers? I’ve worn nothing but sneakers for the last fifteen years (with a few brief exceptions for dress-up occasions). Sneakers are associated with having fun, relaxing and being yourself. Stilettos have become associated with female success; books have titles like “Success in stilettos.”

The idea is that people, especially women, should accept pain and discomfort in exchange for beauty. In the 21st century, when women are landing fighter planes on Navy carrier decks and running major companies, this idea seems a little dated, to say the least.

Associating high-heeled shoes with success incidentally associates beauty with success, and for most people, beauty equals youth. Part of the pain of aging does indeed come from looking in the mirror. Even worse is the experience of being judged by one’s appearance. Compliments are conditioned by “for your age,” as in, “It’s impressive to see a woman your age who is bungee jumping, running a marathon, doing stand-up comedy or simply surviving without medications.”

Aren’t those accomplishments impressive at any age?

I may have to go down for the count but I don’t have to go there quietly.