This year 47,000 Kiwis turned 60 and either celebrated or lamented this coming of age. Once, 40 was the ogre of aging. After that everything was supposed to fall apart – marriages, jobs, sex, self-confidence. Maybe.
Lying in bed one night – broken nights come with the boomer territory – I wondered what I should do come the day. No - I didn’t want a party, surprise or otherwise. Yes, I did want a family get together. Then I had an idea – what if I indulged each of the senses for every one of my decades? In other words, touch, smell, taste, sight, sound. Then last and most intriguing, what if I tried out the Sixth Sense?
The more I thought about it the more I warmed to the idea. Family came first in this birthday line-up but after that it was all ME! Well me and my senses starting with:
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Sight: I love visual beauty but even more than that the way imagination can transform something like trash to fashion. So I went with a like-minded friend to Waitakere’s Trash to Fash night. If this was food I would have been sated.
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Smell: I thought I needed something simple. The first blossoms from my sweet peas did the trick.
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Touch: Hmm… those neglected feet of mine. Had them soothed and generally loved at a foot massage in an upmarket massagerie.
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Sound: What fun! We hired a karaoke machine, took it home and let rip. Don’t know whether the neighbours appreciated our family renditions of songs they probably only just recognised, but what fun!
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Taste: A week long fest of foods I liked best, shared with friends and family.
* And finally that
Sixth Sense. I didn’t want a clairvoyant – I prefer my future to just unfold. Somebody suggested a medium and I was intrigued. For this to work though, the medium would have to know nothing about me.
When I went for my ‘consultation’ I watched as this everyday housewife went into a trance and told me about my past lives. I managed to keep scepticism at bay long enough to enjoy the experience. Surprisingly though, I found she delved into aspects of my life she could not have known about. It was strange. It was just what I wanted before I returned to the rational world.

And then I cheated a bit, mixing sound, touch and sight. With three of my boomer friends we climbed into leathers, hugged the huge backs of the Harley bikers we’d hired – and roared off into the sunset.
Well okay, Kumeu and back.
Way to go!