You can get tired of the jargon of old age. You hear certain clichés over and over: "Your legs are the first to go," "I don't have any trouble with things that happened fifty years ago, it's my short term memory that doesn't work." You not only hear the clichés, you demonstrate them. I've just run into a new-old experience, which I have not heard reported sixty-eleven thousand times: my spelling is retrogressing.

     I mean I'm having trouble spelling words I learned to spell back when there were only 47 states in the union, not just the words that I never really learned to spell and didn't care whether I learned or not because I would never use them. You know, words like niece, granddaughter, Cincinnati. I'm never sure if it's "I" before "E" when writing to Ellen's brother's daughter, or one or two "d's" in addressing Ingrid or Christina or Blair, direct lineal descendents. (Grand daughter still looks wrong, but I'm too hassled to think about it now.)

     Cincinnati I finally had to learn to spell because I no longer automatically carry my checkbook with me. After moving out here to St. Simeon's and finally having mastered that Detroit becomes that unspellable street Cincinnati down around the Jazz hall of fame, which, if I stayed on it would finally arrive at our address, Apt 8, 3701 N. Cincinnati. I tried to master Cincinnati -one t or two? Two "n's" or three? When I couldn't remember, I could slyly look at the address printed on my personalized checks. Someone at the bank had learned how to spell Cincinnati back when I should have.

     My current problem is different.

     I realized the other day I couldn't spell "beauty." I had to look up in the dictionary, a word I've known forever!! The shame of it! I had to look up how to spell B-E-A-U-T-Y. When I finally found it, I no longer wondered why I couldn't spell the word I was saying. What authority says B-E-A-U-T spells Byoot? B-e-a-u spells Boh. Of course so does B-e-a-u-x (the x being silent as in faux pas or Xantippe.)

     If you just go by spelling, you would pronounce B-E-A-U-T-Y as B added to the eau of Eau de Cologne, making the first syllable Boh. We're not going to get side-tracked trying to find out why ogne is pronounced "own." like the o in the first syllable of cologne. Bear in mind, the Col of cologne is pronounced like Old or Nat King Cole, not like the first syllable of the title of the officer who outranks a major, Kerr or Cur..

     And who says B-E-A-U-T-Y should rhyme with cutie instead of booty?

     There's no question who pronounces B-E-A-U-T-Y as Byooty. The same people who say your legs go first; they just can't remember what it is you asked about. Oh! Beauty?

     Beauty is as beauty does, they say. It's skin deep. But now, like me, they need their beauty sleep.

     I prefer to think beauty is in the eye of the beholder.