I used to repeat the line about 60 being the new 50 or even 40. Sounded good to me. But now, well advanced into that decade, I believe that 60 is not the new 40. It is the new 60 if you work it right which is what I’ve been advising lately to my younger friends who are still in the 59-and-holding-on-for-dear-life club.

I am here to tell you little sisters the next decade has its rewards.

There is one clear benefit to turning 60 and that is you can stop worrying about getting older. You are there.

You may think of yourself as high middle age, and I’ll support you on that, but you’re already past senior in some people’s eyes. Like the kid at the box office who automatically rings you up for a $7 old person ticket. That’s okay. He might do the same to Helen Mirren and Diane Sawyer, both well into their 60s.

It always make me feel better, to check out my chronological mates. Punk rocker Patti Smith will be 65 this year – old enough for Medicare and a brand new author with an award-winning book.

Believe me one day you will look back at 59, and think what’s so old about that?

Lots of new things happen in the 60s. You start thinking about turning points. Like quitting the job. The R-word comes up. Time now to think of what you can look forward to when you have more time. Find a cello teacher. Investigate docent training at your favorite museum so you can get in free.

Hitting 60 is a good time to practice putting work in its place. The transition from a full time job to putting yourself first takes real adjustment. Take care of your friendships. In the 60s you start attending and planning a lot more memorial services. Be open to new friends, too. The kind who will go hiking with you when you stop going into the office every day. And who believe it is a sin to watch daytime TV.

Then there’s the body, which if it hasn’t already, will send out definite warning signs to pay attention. This is the time to care for your bones and brain. If you’re lucky enough to have a job with health insurance, get all skin things checked out. Do the bone scan. If you have vision insurance order a couple extra pairs of glasses, especially if they’re progressives. Complete all pricey dental work. Paying out of pocket is a shocker.

Find a gym or a walking buddy. Don’t neglect the cardio-vascular stuff. But don’t get too thin. After 59, skinny equals gaunt and saggy.

If you are fortunate to have a matching 401k, put away as much as you can. You’re never too old to get smart about money. There are powerful people who want to destroy Social Security and pensions and put older people on an ice floe. Well, at least the poor ones. Avoid becoming poor.

Depending on the above, start to prepare for the thrifty life. When you leave work you may have to give up some luxuries. This might be a good time to learn to cut your own hair. Or your dog’s. Or your husband’s.

Fill out those durable power of attorney forms. Make a will. Talk to your kids about what you want done if you get hit by a bus. Be selfish about what you read. You are not required to finish any book that bores you. Even for book club. I met an 84-year-old woman at the library who reads only non-fiction “because,” she said, “there’s so much more I need to know.”

Record all PIN numbers. Save your brain for other important information. Use the good china.

Two friends turned 65 and threw themselves a Medicare birthday party. We drank margaritas, played bocce ball and frolicked long past our bedtimes. It was hard to imagine our friends being 65. Or any of us ageless agile people who all looked gorgeous by candlelight.

But that’s what happens. You look up one day and you’re old enough for Medicare. Which makes being 65 something to shout about. At least loud enough to put your age on a government document and celebrate with sympathetic contemporaries. It means you have made it to the finish line. At least one of them. You can stop worrying about health insurance.

It’s not exactly the same thrill as being old enough to take your driver’s test or vote or order a drink. But it’s a definite rite of passage. Sixty five – the new 21. Bring on the black balloons.

I remember being at a dinner party a few years ago and realizing that our conversation had been dominated by deductibles, COBRA and pre-existing conditions. When did health insurance get to be so sexy, I asked the silver-haired marvel on my right.

Back then we griped about employers switching to health plans that didn’t include our long-time family doctor. We talked about co-pays going up. About sticking with a job just for the benefits. Things weren’t as grim as they are now, but the concern was starting to creep in that something a lot of us had taken for granted all our working lives was eroding.

Sixty five – the new 21. Bring on the black balloons.

Now that health insurance has turned into a huge, slippery pile of lies, threats and insecurity, you can turn 65 and be glad to be over that particular hill. No more worrying that you’ll lose your coverage. And the doctor finds something awful which costs bags of gold to fix. And you have to sell your home and move in with the kids.

Bad economic times color one’s perspective on many things. Suddenly it’s not so bad to be getting older. The worst recession in 80 years can make a person grateful to have lived long enough to climb into one or two life boats. Medicare and Social Security may be leaking but at least you’ve got a seat.

Well, at least for the time being. The relief could be brief, because there are mighty forces trying to torpedo the life boats. Opponents of Social Security and Medicare would like to undo both, leave it to individuals to find their own best deals. Critics, including members of Congress, sneer at these government guarantees like they’re some kind of public assistance. They call them entitlements. But wait a minute. Social Security and Medicare are no more entitlements than members of Congress get with their own socialized health insurance, made in the USA.

For us regular people, they’re a return on our long-time investments. We’ve had money taken from our pay checks for Medicare and Social Security ever since we started working. It’s been our deal with the government, that there’d be this sure thing when we needed it.

Not that it’s enough. You have to buy a supplement if you want more than bare bones Medicare. And Social Security is a nice allowance but you can’t live on it. Most people expect to also rely on their greater savings, investments and pension. But look what’s happened to them. No sure thing there, either. Plenty of retirees turn around and go back to work.

When I asked in a bookstore for books on retirement the clerk, in gray ponytail and Birkenstocks, said, “Who can afford to retire?” I’m starting to worry that he might be right. Maybe we need to change the lyrics in the song from, “I hope I die before I get old,” to “I hope I die before I go broke.”

Susan Swartz is an author and journalist in Sebastopol. You can also read her at www.juicytomatoes.com and hear her Another Voice commentary on KRCB-FM radio on Fridays. Email is susan@juicytomatoes.com

Despite Boomer evidence to the contrary, some people, mostly marketing specialists, still contend that after youth, people become stuck. They cling to the familiar. They don’t change toothpastes or cereal. They avoid anything new. But that is so last century, back before the likes of Facebook, iPhones, Twitter and …let me add, Zumba.

Earlier this year came the report that women age 55 and over make up the fastest growing user population on Facebook which made people like me want to give a high-five for being so “in.” Or did our joining mean Facebook was fading? Oh no. Boomers on board. Trend over. But, Facebook still thrives, as a homey blend of young people and aging groupies, kind of like a Bruce Springsteen audience.

It took me a while to sign up. Posting about your everyday life and aimless thoughts seemed so self-absorbed. But who was I kidding. I’m a columnist and a blogger. I’m already self-absorbed. Okay, but I am holding the line at Tweeting although I just read that Twitter, too, is being taken over by grown-ups.

For me joining Facebook was like going to a high school reunion, hooking up with old friends and getting to see what they look like after all these years. I’ve reconnected now with friends from high school and college days but my big score is finding a grade school friend from Hamden, Conn. who remembers stories about my family and the name of my first dog. She and I have now moved off Facebook into regular email so we can have more privacy. And we’ve even advanced to talking on the telephone.

Facebook is also a way of staying connected to popular culture. Not everyone thinks that is vital. Leave these new devices to the young, they say. But even if you don’t invest time and money in the latest trend or social networking gadget, don’t you want to be aware of them? At least enough to get the references in New Yorker cartoons.

One thing we’ve happily proven in all this is that technology is our world too. You don’t have to have a young brain or know how to type with your thumbs to play. If you can figure out how to reserve a library book online, you can Facebook.

And if you ever did Jazzercise you can Zumba. I know that’s a leap but trying out new moves is another way of keeping up.

We don’t want to be rhythmically challenged anymore than we want to be technically locked out.

Just as with Facebook, I came late to Zumba, the workout craze that combines Latin and African dance steps with good old aerobic moves. But I like the idea of mambo in the morning and the music alone makes you sweat. All body types and ages are welcome, at least at my gym, although there are definite differences in skill level.

The enthusiastic bodies in the front row are so sleek and agile they could be dancing on a table top in Rio with roses in their teeth. The rest of us are happy just to know our shimmy still works.