Then the mail came. With the opening of each envelope, my euphoria slowly dissipated. Each piece of literature reminded me that I was racing against the clock and I was losing the race. All had suggestions for putting off the inevitable. The publisher of one letter assumed I was way past my prime because she offered to sell me a wrinkle cream that was guaranteed to make me look 10 years younger. Another wanted me to subscribe to a magazine that would give me practical guidance about nutrients and hormones to slow aging. I decided not to let them play on my insecurities and quickly threw out those pieces of trash. Music. That’s what I needed. Soothing music. My trusty radio was at hand, but tuning in to my favorite music station brought me no solace. An arrogant commercial told me I may have Age-Related Cognitive Degeneration, or ARCD, and need to take pills that will not only make me look and feel younger, but will improve my memory and my libido. These magic pills would eradicate free radical cells that destroy good cells and bring on diseases that aging inevitably invites. Hmmm, I once read that oregano contains the same magic. So many choices for feeling and looking young again – Botox, antidepressants, sleeping aids; pills for lowering cholesterol, blood pressure and weight. Do you want to boost your energy level and improve diminishing memory function? Just take these drugs. And my personal favorite – an ad that claims to abolish those unsightly lumps on hips, thighs and waist nonsurgically in one day! But there was a ray of sunshine when I opened one of my favorite magazines to see the image of a naked, slightly overweight, 50ish woman fill a whole page. It was tastefully done. She was photographed from the side, her knees up, hiding the essentials. Her pose did not hide her rolls of flesh. Another page pictured a woman, her gray hairs untouched and wrinkles intact, looking as though she were quite happy with herself. Though these women would never qualify for the centerfold of Playboy magazine, I was delighted to see these au naturel ladies because they looked like most of us. After all, how many post-prime women look like Christie Brinkley? The message of the advertised product declared it was not anti-age. It was pro-age; that beauty had no age limit. So there is hope that the advertising world will finally embrace women at the age at which they are and stop with the “look younger, feel younger” mantra. By midmorning, my mood went up about 10 notches but, alas, the high spirits only lasted until noon, when I met a friend for lunch. Right after we were seated, she looked at my hair and chirped, “You know, if you colored your hair, you’d look younger.” Yolanda Fintor writes out of Northridge and is the author of two cookbooks. 160Want local news?Sign up for the Localist and stay informed Something went wrong. Please try again.subscribeCongratulations! You’re all set! I woke up feeling pretty good and looking forward to my weekly yoga class. The instructor motivates her students by telling them how this ancient art of body conditioning will keep them young past their prime. I wonder at what age we hit our prime? The number keeps changing. Am I pre-prime, post-prime or at prime? After class I felt limber, alive and ready to face the world. I drove home full of energy and actually looked forward to the tasks waiting for me.