I really, really, really had to laugh out loud about the article about Liz Phair and her and Susan Carpenter's musings about "age" ("An Indie Queen's Mainstream Exile," Feb. 26). Please, pinch me or tell me there was an unfortunate typo, or did I get it right that all of 36 years (Phair's age) makes a woman a candidate for practically apologizing for such a burdensome age close to matron-dom?
Everybody, really everybody, including the millions of thirtysomething men who sleep with forty- and fiftysomething women, knows that sexuality is not just alive and kicking after 40 but that sex is not all that related to age. We all love the eager puppies who jump around and don't have a clue about eroticism once in a while, we really do, but experience and passion are the hot ingredients for incredible sex. Poor Liz, practically a grandma, thinking that she has to defend herself in all seriousness for her age.