As we slip, not so gracefully, into our senior years, the daily obituary notices open up vivid memories we thought we had completely forgotten and closed off.

The New York Times obit of March 9, 1999 read "Ann Corio, a Burlesque Queen on Broadway is Dead... A survivor of a shapely sisterhood that included Gypsy Rose Lee, Maggie Hart and Georgia Sothern, Ms. Corio lasted long enough to reach the iconic status that enabled her to present the striptease as a put-on."

She was a beautiful woman, and as she stated, "The whole family can see my show. Nudity is an invasion of privacy on both sides of the footlights."

It was a Saturday night in the East Bronx in 1950. Six of my friends and myself boarded the elevated train at the 174th Street station. Destination: the Hudson Theater in Union City, New Jersey. Burlesque was banned in New York City in 1937, but it was legal across the Hudson River.

The subway took us to 42nd St. and we then took the tubes to New Jersey.

The legal age to be allowed into a burlesque theater was 18. All of my pals could pass for 18 years old, but I was a different story. When I was 16 I looked like I was 11 years old. With my freckles and red, curly hair I could pass for Howdy Doody.

I was in dread of buying my ticket. All my friends would be admitted and I would be left outside. That fear haunted me the entire trip.

The plan was that I would be in the middle of the group as we lined up at the box office of the Hudson Theater. In a group, maybe my baby-faced looks could be camouflaged. It was a daring maneuver.

The first three guys got in without being questioned by the ticket-taker. I stepped up and was grilled.

"How old are you? I was asked in harsh, Jersey tones. I remember gulping hard and then saying, "18 years old." She waited an eternity and then pressed a button that shot an accepting ticket out to me. I knew that I had not deceived her but I was going to see the show.

As Ann Corio said in the obit, "We were naughty and bawdy, but never vulgar." The baggy-pantsed comedians were cornball, but all the jokes had two meanings. Even at 16, I could understand the humor. The strippers were beautiful girls that set my head spinning. They all did individually-styled strip acts. I remember one act consisted of a dancer doing a reverse striptease. She entered almost nude and ended the act fully clothed. What genius!

They sold candy in the aisles and it was an atmosphere of good, almost-clean fun. It was burlesque. It was satire. It was a laugh.

Ann Corio never revealed her age, but she was believed to be in her 80s. I am also not that freckled-faced kid anymore. I write a column called "Over 60...And Getting Younger."