Golden Oldies in Black and White

An old and dear friend -- a guy I wanted to marry once, until I got over it -- just sent me some photos from the way back machine. The pix weren't taken for any particular reason. He photographed me and his friend, Ked, in the alley behind Ked's family brownstone in Chicago. We were all hanging out and he had his camera with him, so he snapped a few. 

           I'm posting the pix here in my blog in the hope that they will survive longer than in my house, where pipes tend to burst and police enter without warrants for unnecessary wellness checks. Also because I'm showing off. It's what women of a certain age do when neither makeup nor Spanx can recapture those halcyon days of yesteryear. Only pictures will do. No really, I was tall and thin, claims the nearly 70-year-old woman in polyester and sequins who now sings barbershop harmony. See? Here's the proof. 

           The photos are dated 1969, a mere 43 years ago. Ked, the guy in the picture with me, has recently had anterior total hip replacement surgery with Dr. Michael Stover, the same doc who did my hips. Along with the photographer, he and I have been friends for a long, long time. Ked was going to have his hip surgery done by someone else, until I asked him, "Do you want to have sex and play sports again like you used to?" 

           [Just an FYI -- I didn't mean have sex with me. I meant with his girlfriend.] 

           I told him I had seen some detailed diagrams that showed what men had to go through to have sex without begging, following other, more traditional types of hip replacement surgery. 

           So he went to Dr. Stover. But I digress. Here are the pictures. I'm wearing a wig -- hey it was the sixties. I've got false eyelashes on -- hey, it was the sixties. And I had never dieted in my life -- hey, I'm now in my sixties -- times change.