Friends,

In the last three months, I’ve been to two friends’ 90th birthday parties.

I met both 20 years ago.

In yoga class.

***

Almost everyone in the class was a 50- or 60-something woman, including the teacher.

I was 28 at the time, newly-married, in what I thought was good condition.

Yet I struggled, breathing labored, to stretch, stand, balance, and twist as instructed.

Meanwhile, these women twice my age, of all shapes and sizes, flowed easily through even the most advanced postures.

And, unlike any other yoga class, before or since, they talked the entire time, cracking jokes, swapping stories, debating takes, and maintaining a continuous witty banter.

It was like the Algonquin Round Table, except decades older and in stretchy pants.

***

Overnight, I had new role models.

But what exactly was the model I was following?

Were these women such bright lights because they:

(A) Did yoga?

(B) Shared an activity with friends?

(C) Made everything a joke, story, debate, or discussion?

(D) All of the above

(E) Something else altogether?

***

Last year, I asked one of the women, my friend Lois, her take.

Some time after getting into yoga, I told her, I’d started playing pickup basketball, and there heard the phrase “old man game.”

If having “game” meant special prowess in sports, dating, business, or any other activity, having “old man game” meant high performance beyond the expectations of age or natural ability.

It was the skills and strategies to rival and beat younger, stronger, bigger, and faster competitors.

Or, as I came to think of it, the art and science of getting better with time.

That’s you and your crew, I emailed Lois.

But “old man game,” as an expression, was obviously very gendered.

How could the best term I’d found for what these women had and I wanted also appear to exclude them?

Would “grande dame” work instead?

***

Jeremy, my friend, replied Lois:

I’m on the verge of my 89th birthday.

I am an old lady.

I am probably as grande dame as we get around here.

(I had to request this morning that a young friend not call me royalty, for Pete’s sake.)

***

Let’s say first, being a grande dame bears no equivalence to your competitive old man game.

Being a grande dame requires age, dignity and ability.

A grande dame neither maximizes nor minimizes anything.

It is as close to an enhanced state of being as a secular woman is likely to get.

***

“Old man game” strikes me as a young man’s construct for guys who were better than they were expected to be in light of their age or reputed ability.

I am glad to be a grande dame and not to have to mess around with using my high IQ for forcing my adversaries to maximize their weaknesses, in order for my grandness to shine.

You make me realize how anti-competitive I am at heart.

I wish to relate to people, not defeat them, not beat them.

I want to connect with rather than have power over others.

I will admit to have a number of very high credentials, but not one of them came to me via “rivaling and beating younger, stronger, bigger, and faster competitors.”

Beating rivals is a young man’s game.

***

You are right.

Your old man game is very gendered.

I think competition is quite gendered, though not exclusively masculine.

I like the idea of an “art and science of getting better with time."

That is worth thinking about, telling stories about, and advocating that anyone can do it.

***

OMG.

Let’s all be grande dames, right?

Whatever your interests or activities, combine:

(A) Age and dignity.

(B) Being and shining.

(C) Relating and connecting.

(D) Thinking, telling stories, and advocating.

That’s how you get better with time.

Mic drop.

***

I’m curious.

Do you have a grande dame in your life?

And are you living in such a way as to make yourself a grande dame?

Share your anecdotes or experiences, and I’ll send the combined results to anyone who replies—and the birthday dames, Lois and Annick.

Meanwhile, I’ll keep following their lead—on the mat, up and down the court, and in the game of life.

Dame time—

Jeremy