A few tips for Jamie Lee as big 5-0 looms

By CELIA RIVENBARK

Oh, thank God that I’m not invited to Jamie Lee Curtis’s 50th birthday bash. And I use that word loosely. If you define bash as getting together with the neighbors for egg-white omelets and protein shakes, then, yes, it’s a bash cuz that’s what our girl is planning. Oh! Make mine Metamucil! Or not.

Look. I’m on Jamie-Lee-Curtis-turning-50 overload. She is everywhere we look yammering about how she’s given up the phony world of Hollywood glamour for, well, protein shakes with the neighbors. We get it, girrrrrl. You’re 50 (almost) and you’re FIERCE!

But, uh, can we be small for just a moment here? You would look so much more fabulous if you’d dye that hair and let it grow out just a bit. There. We said it. Truth is, when you have Janet Leigh/Tony Curtis DNA floating around your body, you just can’t let yourself go. You owe it to your parents, and, yes, I imagine Mommy is spinning in her Forest Lawn mausoleum or wherever while you crow about embracing your wrinkles.

Eyuk.

I turned 50 last year and you didn’t hear me talking crazy like Jamie Lee.

Root boost

Nope. You heard me calling Rafiki and demanding he work me in for a root boost. In AARP magazine, she said, “I want to be older. I feel way better now than I did when I was 20. Getting older means paring yourself down to an essential version of yourself. I own one pair of blue jeans and have given away all my jewelry.”

Oh, dear. Crazytown Buffet, party of 1.

Well, sure, we all want to be older because it means we’re not dead but, no, we don’t look and feel better than we did at 20, unless we spent 20 in one of those underground supermax prisons or hanging out in a prairie skirt and really bad braids with our 80-year-old “husband.”

Quit talking crazy, Jamie Lee!

Oh, and she gets up at 5 o’clock every day and she DOESN’T EVEN HAVE TO.

See? Crazy.

Jamie Lee, whose body remains spectacular as though to taunt her desire to look as happily dumpy as possible, is fond of saying that her great Boomer fantasy would be to “create courses of study where people meet for lectures.”

Wow. Will you be serving protein shakes because, if you are, I am SO in. I’m putting that Hi-waiian vacay that was my Boomer fantasy on permanent hold.

She also says that “the one benefit” of being famous is seeing how fake it makes people. Oh, come on, now. Isn’t the mansion with the infinity pool and never having to worry about health insurance or gas prices just an eensie-weensie benefit? Thought so.

X Celia Rivenbark is a freelance columnist in Wilmington, N.C. She is the author of “Stop Dressing Your Six Year Old Like A Skank” and managed to write this column without even mentioning that Curtis will appear topless in AARP magazine.