A Little Help FOR My Friends!

Personal Debt Addiction

2012-01-03T14:10:00.000-08:00

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Now thatChristmas has come and gone I’ve been thinking about debt. Many go into debt tolavish gifts and entertainment upon their families and friends over theholidays. Food alone is a small fortune. It often takes all year to pay offChristmas debt. Sometimes it takes longer than a year and Christmas debt ispiled upon Christmas debt year after year. Add to that other debt growth throughoutthe year and we have people who can’t dig up cash if their lives depended onit. Instead, if cash is needed, some take it from a credit card. It’s a viciouscycle---and excessive spending is an addiction.

Fortunesare made by people who claim they can rid folks of debt. People go into debtpaying for systems (or legal help) that proclaim debt can be eliminated simplyand in a short time. These systems are expensive and plunge the debtor furtherinto debt and despair. Most people who buy these systems find they can’t stickto them. Things come up they must buy and they can’t stick to the debt plan onemonth then another month then before they know it they are right back wherethey were before buying the system---and they are still paying for the system. Oncedebt has a person around the neck it’s not easy to get away from it. Some go toextreme measures to relieve their debt via criminal actions or suicide. Likedrugs, alcohol, and gambling, debt can be an addiction.

Debtdoesn’t crop up over night. It’s insidious and slides into our lives with tinypurchases or sometimes genuine emergencies. We often buy things we don’tneed---but want. It’s easy to buy that tiny item so that when the next desirepresents itself we spring for it. After all, it’s only a few dollars more a month.This continues, especially with those inexperienced in money management, youngpeople and people managing an income alone after a divorce, or any number ofcircumstances, until one day the person wakes up and realizes they are in aterrible bind. Then real debt builds as they take on debt to pay off debt. It’sa trap set by commercial entities. We are bombarded with offers of greatdiscounts and wonderful goods at incredible price reductions for goods we DON’Tneed and tiny payments. Because we’re worth it. That's a lie for another blog.

Thefirst factor in determining how we got into debt is to simply stroll around ourhomes. How many items do we see that were purchased on credit? How many itemsdid we save for and buy with cash? Do I hear laughter? It’s true. Who buysanything anymore with cash that has been saved for a special item? (My son doeswhich I will explain a bit later.)

Someitems are difficult to save for. Most of us need a car. If we live in a majorcity we do not need a car and some enlightened urban dwellers do not buy carsbut take public transportation (only in cities where it works---our oldtransportation systems need repair today but at one time our cities had greatpublic transportation). If a car is needed then those folks rent cars forweekend trips. Of course, they need a credit card to do that. It amazed me thefirst time I rented a car that I had to have a credit card. I wanted to pay forit with cash. What kind of world do we live in where we MUST have a creditcard? I think it’s so that if we destroy the car or do something to it they cancome after us via our card. My daughter went on vacation and the rental caragency added huge additional charges a couple of weeks after she got home. Shefought the charges and won. It was a battle.

So afterwe evaluate our homes and analyze what we purchased with credit we then learnwhether or not we needed the items or wanted the items. There’s nothing wrongwith wanting something---if we can afford it. If we want something and can’tpay for it, we should save for it. (Oh, stop laughing.) We simply make apayment to ourselves monthly until we’ve saved enough to buy it. Better to makethe payment now than after. So many nasty things can happen after when there’sno money but the paymen(s) linger. If we are saving for a TV now and theengine falls out of our car on the freeway, we can dip into our TV savings andfix the car. (Can’t we charge the car repair? Oh, of course we can because wedecided we need a car.)

Butputting big ticket items aside like cars, refrigerators, heaters, etc., they are notwhat truly gets us in debt. It’s the hundreds of little things we buy oncredit. That we don’t need but we want. We want some things so desperately weare willing to go into debt.

How manypairs of shoes does a person need and of what quality? I’m hard on shoes. WhenI used to buy expensive shoes in only a few weeks I’d scuffed them and scrapedthem (how do I do that) and was horrified. Now I buy some medium priced shoes butmostly very cheap shoes that I beat to death and I don’t buy many. When theyare bad I dump them and replace them. How many pieces of jewelry do we need(none, actually), or how many decorative items for our homes that we arewilling to go into debt to purchase? In fact, how many electronics do we need?None. It’s true. None. Remember it’s all about need v. want. But I have everyelectronic gadget ever invented and the minute it’s outdated (which is usuallythe day after I buy it) I want the updated version. I’m guilty too.

So overa year ago my son decided he wanted a top of the line laptop. He researched thevarious computers he was interested in and eventually found just want he wantedand in fact special ordered an upgrade and his computer is so slick he couldrun the Pentagon with it. Then he purchased a couple of accessories forit---all with cash. He saved for about a year. He did without many things. Hedipped into his savings for a couple of small emergencies (one car emergencyand something he needed for work). His computer is very expensive and it’s 100%paid for. I have friends with outrageously outdated computers they are still making paymentson. Some are still paying for old computers they no longer own. I have two andboth are paid for.

Delayedgratification. We’ve all heard that term. Sometimes it has a sexual connotationbut it also applies to other desires, the desire to have goods we want and wewant them right now. Maybe it’s because I’m older now and wiser (I hope) butthere is nothing I want so much that I would go into debt to have. And mindyou, there are many things I actually do want. Just not enough to go into debt.

Ofcourse, I do have a big fat mortgage and that is certainly debt. But as debtgoes it helps me at tax time and it’s my little nest/home. But I know some whoare rethinking home ownership and all of its repairs and maintenance and manyin my age group are dumping their homes for the ease of renting a niceapartment somewhere. My mom still lives in her home and recently had expensivetermite work done and I’ve had dry rot repair going on for weeks. An apartmentis very appealing right about now.

Sohere’s how to get out of debt and my advice is free. Stop charging stuff. Dowithout. Only buy essentials (groceries, medical care, dog food) until the debtis gone. Have a huge garage sale. Take that money and pay off some of the debt.If the debt is tremendous and completely out of control consider bankruptcy. Some debt people have is because they lost their jobs.Most is because we spend too much for things we don’t need. Don’t spend, don’tcharge, one step at a time. Make a list of what is needed to live and everytime a purchase is considered ask if it’s needed---or wanted. Depending on thedebt it could take a long time to pay it off. That’s fine. If the job market isnot cooperating, consider asking for government assistance if it might apply to your situation. That’s why it’sthere. Don’t be embarrassed. Everyone needs a little help once in a while. Lifeis too short to live with stress every day. Find ways to pay off the debt, allof it or some of it, then never accumulate debt again.

Over theyears I’ve kept a list of things I want which is separate from things I need.The list is long but when I review it from time to time I cross items off thelist because I no longer want them. I wanted the items when I placed them onthe list but now they’ve been on there for so long I’ve realized I actually nolonger want them.

I knowpeople who have comfortable incomes and buy whatever they want but they stilluse credit for the purchases. I’m not sure I understand that because when theyou-know-what hits the fan, and none of us are safe, those debts will ruinthem. When the comfy income goes then what?

I guessI should point out it’s easier for me to not buy things because I don’t like toshop. For those who love to hit the mall on a regular basis to buy things “onsale,” ew. You don't save money buying things on sale. You spend it. Think about it.

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Too Many Holiday Spirits?

2011-12-23T09:19:00.000-08:00

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Eachyear when November rolls around an amazing thing happens. We all gain a lot ofweight and many of us drink alcohol with wild abandon. People who rarely ifever drink during the year suddenly have voracious appetites for food andspirits. Too much of both. However, one can eat half a turkey and still get ina car and drive home. There might be a seat adjustment (removing the steeringwheel from our guts) but eating 8000 calories of Thanksgiving food still getsus home---sick but safe. Drinking multiple bottles of wine and consuming fancycocktails does not.

Thereare many holidays throughout the year but Thanksgiving begins a pig fest ofenormous proportions. Most people I know pull out all the stops and dig throughtraditional family recipes with vigor and spend way too much money on thesemeals and work their fannies off all in an effort to make a lovely event forfamily and friends. Sometimes it’s a group preparation event but all too oftenit’s one woman working from dawn to midnight feeding hoards of people wonderingif she’ll also be able to pay her utility bill when it’s all over. After wehave just barely recovered from Thanksgiving it’s the steady and relentlessmarch to Christmas and New Year’s. More food and more alcohol.

I’vescaled back on all of this. Many years ago I gave up mall shopping andChristmas cards. I used to send out 300 cards. Now I wish everyone a MerryChristmas on the Internet via social networking, email, etc. I buy a few giftsonline, I often make a few gifts, and I prepare very nice but simple meals.Granted, there are fewer of us left in the family so feeding those who remainis a lot easier. And alcohol is almost nonexistent. Maybe one bottle of very nicewine for all of us to share at one dinner. We love wine. We are Californians. Ihate drunks. When I’m in charge of the meals, alcohol is minimal.

Newsreports each year at the beginning of the feeding frenzy warn all of us about drinkingand driving. More law enforcement officers are required to be on duty than anyother time of the year and they spend a large amount of their day/night lookingfor the drivers who had a bit too much alcohol---and they find them. Even withall the warnings about holiday drinking drunk drivers are out there by thethousands.

Somehabitual drinkers have learned to take appropriate steps to get home withoutinterruption by law enforcement. Many now take cabs to and from drinkingevents, some sleep over at their hosts’ homes, some buddy up and someonebecomes the designated driver (which means the DDs are not allowed ANYalcohol), and some sleep it off in their cars. However, that last trick isstill begging for a DUI.

Yearsago on “Everybody Loves Raymond” “Deborah” went to an event and because sheknew she had probably consumed more alcohol than was allowed she decided tosleep in her car until she felt she would be safe to drive. Instead, she wasarrested for a DUI. No one who has consumed alcohol can sit in a car even ifthey are passed out unless there is a sober driver behind the wheel. Eventhough that seemed the sensible thing for her to do she was an inebriatedperson alone in a car with car keys. The assumption is that people who drinkuse bad judgment and though she was trying to be prudent how would shedetermine she was sober enough to drive? After a 30 minute nap? 60 minute nap?What would be the appropriate amount of time to pass before the remnants ofalcohol no longer remained in her system making her legally able to drive? Who knows?So rather than take a chance on someone’s faulty assessment of their abilities,law enforcement considers that a DUI.

As Irecall that character was not a “drinker.” In fact, many people who end up onthe bad end of a DUI are casual social drinkers. A little wine with dinner,maybe a cocktail. But when I researched alcohol levels for this post I foundthat there are many guidelines but they are only guidelines. Most people canprobably have a glass of wine with dinner and much later drive home.Apparently, not all people are that lucky. (And what size is the wine glass?)If a person has a health condition, is small and doesn’t weigh much, does noteat much of a dinner but nibbles, doesn’t drink often and has a low tolerancefor stimulants of any kind, all of these people can find themselves in trouble.

Oneexample of a typical social evening providing the inability to avoid a DUI is anice cocktail before dinner, and a few glasses of wine with dinner. That is theclassic recipe for disaster. And it is not the hardcore guy sitting at a barchugging down drink after drink. It’s the fancy spiked Christmas punch followedby expensive holiday wines for the meal. Casual social drinkers are actuallymore of a problem than those guys hunkering down over a bar. Bartendersroutinely call cabs for those guys and smart lawsuit-savvy bartenders cut thosedrinkers off. (Not just guys. Plenty of women hunker down on a barstool.)

I knowmany people who drink too much. These people drive all the time. If there werebounties for reporting drunk drivers I’d be wealthy. And these people know theyhave had too much, but they also believe they know “how to handle” their liquorand believe themselves to be great drivers. Part of alcohol enhancement is an abundanceof overconfidence in one’s abilities (this includes sexual prowess, driving,being amusing, singing, dancing, and the list goes on). Police aren’t lookingfor people driving the wrong way at 100 miles per hour (though those people areout there). No, they find those people easily. They are, however, trained tolook for the slight swerve, driving 40 mph on the freeway, making incompletestops and coasting through intersections, too much braking, speeding up thenslowing down. Those folks make up the bulk of DUI driving. Sipping a beverage while behind the wheel,any beverage, is also suspect.

When Iwas growing up police officers stopped people and made a face-to-facedetermination about a person’s alcohol level. Sometimes drivers were asked toget out of the car for a walking test. Sometimes officers interviewed thedriver and upon learning the driver was on their way home they were told todrive straight home with no stops. Sometimes they were taken to the local jailto sleep it off, no arrest. Sometimes they were told to sleep it off in aparking lot and the officers would escort the driver to a safe place and driveby and check on them from time to time. This happened all the time. Sometimesofficers drove intoxicated drivers home. I personally know folks in my familyand circle of friends who were the recipients of these benevolent policeinterventions.

Thosedays are gone. Too many drunks have killed, maimed, and injured too many.Drinking and driving with ANY alcohol is a tremendous risk and very expensive.Depending on how bad the DUI is it can involve jail time and the loss of alicense, car impoundment, and the list goes on. This isn’t the hardcoredrinker, it’s you and me. We are the light social drinkers who go off the gridand get ourselves in more trouble than we ever thought possible during theholidays.

MerryChristmas----but, please----not too merry.

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Pet Surgery and Other Bad Things

2011-12-17T08:50:00.000-08:00

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Four years ago I adopted one of my dogsknowing full well he had major dental problems. My vet and I discussed atreatment plan and we both decided to wait until he had lived with me a fewmonths so he would be more comfortable with his surroundings. It was presumedhis teeth had been bad for years prior to his arrival at the shelter. No oneknew his history but it didn’t include dental care. However, someone loved thisdog and treated him lovingly. He has great manners and knows a number of basiccommands and is very polite and sweet. We think he may have had an older humanand perhaps the human died and the family dropped him off because they didn’twant him or couldn’t have him. I wish they had taken the time to fill out aninfo sheet.

The vet said it would be extensive and costlythe first time he did the procedure and he was right. The second time wasestimated to be less stressful and less costly. It was a bit more---of both. Theprocedure was actually more invasive. He is the type of dog, and there arehumans with this problem, who has terrible dental problems inherent to his genepool. I’ve had friends who had root planing on a regular basis. I only have hadone small area with a gum issue and after the work was performed I’ve been finesince. My poor dog.

So the first night was horrible but we are aweek post-surgery and he is almost back to normal. With each day I see improvementand he is no longer on pain pills. That first night I felt I should have hadpain pills too. I slept on his large dog pillow with him every night for a fewdays as he groaned and moaned and whimpered. He will NOT let me look in hismouth. When I attempt to look at his mouth he politely moves his head andfirmly clamps his lips together. He gives me “the look.” Next week we go backfor his post-surgery check-up. I can’t wait to see her try to pry his mouthopen. He only has eleven teeth left so biting may not be an issue.

Two weeks before his surgery my daughtermoved into a new apartment. She had belongings stored in a public storage unit andmany in my garage. She lives about 20 miles away south of me now which makesvisits a 40 mile round trip and I did my best to help her but then my dog hadsurgery and I was no longer able to help her with the stacks of boxes anddebris. She is still sorting through it all because of course she had to returnto work and I became a canine nurse.

Next, we discovered termites at my mom’s wholives 60 miles in the opposite direction. There’ve been inspections andappointments and phone calls and my mom doesn’t really understand any of it. Wehave more to go on this project. I have a gas-friendly car though.

Finally, we’ve had beautiful sunny weather soI hired someone to paint my house. First he had to deal with dry rot which wasabout as bad as my dog’s gum disease. The painter eventually had to enlist theassistance of his cousin, a dry rot expert, and they have been out therebanging and pounding and using screeching electrical equipment for two weeksnow. My little dog, the one who didn’t have the surgery, barks at them all dayand I’ve given up trying to stop her. I’ve barked a time or two myself.

Many problems have occurred along the way withall these fun activities that have had to be resolved. I feel like a yo-yo. Ihave only missed one blog posting since I started this operation back in Marchof 2009 and this past week was my first week I couldn’t post anything. My headwas pounding and I couldn’t think. I’m barely back to thinking.

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Moving: The Agony and the Ecstasy

2011-12-05T09:00:00.001-08:00

I helped my daughter move this past weekend. Prior to the move sheordered many new pieces of unassembled furniture. She also went from atwo-bedroom apartment to a one-bedroom apartment but kept all her two-bedroom “things.”This post is late because I can’t straighten my fingers into typing position. I’vebeen using a screwdriver for two days and lifting, tugging, pushing,shoving---and dropping---boxes. This will be a brief post.

Moving is so exciting---until the day we move. A new place to live,perhaps a new town to explore, new neighbors and potential friends to meet, allof it is so exciting until the actual move. Our family has given up on the do-it-yourselftruck rentals. We did that for many years and now when we know a move is comingwe save for a professional moving company.

We don’t select the large national outfits but rather local small companieswith just a couple of employees. The rates are great and we always leave a nicetip. This move was the best so far because we went from a ground floor unit toanother ground floor unit. Usually there are stairs. The movers were thrilled.Less agony for all. Her move this past weekend was $705 plus tip. I would havepaid twice, perhaps three times as much. And yet, even though they did all thathard work we almost cried when they left. Boxes and unassembled pieces offurniture were everywhere. She must return to work tomorrow. She took two daysoff surrounding the weekend. I am the official furniture assembler.

This move will reduce her commute by close to an hour. That’s atremendous savings of time in her life. But for the next few weeks she will beunpacking boxes each evening and as much as she can on weekends. She’scarefully putting things away rather than cramming it all in willy nilly. Manyyears of moving taught all of us in the family that doing it right from day onewill save many hours of pain. Yet, it’s a tedious process and makes theunpacking a lot slower than shoving it all in cupboards and closets. She livesa good distance from me and it will not be as easy to help her out this time.

I am 66 and have moved 25 times in my life. My daughter is 36 and thisis her 13^th move. I’ve included the college years because she didn’tlive in a dorm and had apartments. With each apartment her possessions grew andgrew. I have friends who are my age and have only moved a handful of times.Sometimes I’ve envied them except I’m very happy I’ve moved around so much. Ihave a huge group of friends from each location and lots of happy memories ofso many different parts of the country. But the moving part is just the pits.

I can’t type anymore because my hands and fingers will not cooperate. Ihad a great blog planned for this weekend but it will have to wait. I think Ineed a nice soak in the tub with bubbles. And maybe a pound of Aleve.

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WARNING! Do not read this unless you are very brave!

2011-11-27T07:52:00.001-08:00

So youthink you’re brave? You must because you’re reading this even after my warning.Well, fear not. Trust me.

Thoughmany are wise to the ways of the Internet, there are those who are not. Thereare thousands of untrue and outrageous stories about celebrities andpoliticians and illnesses and dangerous foods and medicines and aliens andreligions and the list goes on and on and on. Some stories are almost true but a few facts are alteredto suit the agenda of the senders. Some are ancient and do not apply to currentpoliticians or administrations but politicians and administrations from decadesago. Many times we read posts about our current president when a littleresearch finds the same rumor all the way back two or three presidencies---differentpolitician, same old rumor. Some people just pull these weird stories out toattack whoever is in office currently. The stories with partial truths getpeople with faulty memories then they think “Hey, I heard about that!” Yeah,twenty years ago. In France, not here.

But theuntrue and half true stories and the “fear factor” posts can actually bedangerous. A rumor about a celebrity doesn’t hit home half as much as learningthat eating a tomato with salt will form a toxin that will burst an aneurism(not true, I repeat, not true). The puzzling part of this is why do people notonly believe these stories but pass them on to everyone in their address books?I suppose they want to protect their family and friends but wouldn’t it beprudent to look it up first? Doesn’t salt on a tomato sound odd? For all the years people have been eating tomatoes wouldn’tthat information hit the international news broadcasts? There are many websitesthat debunk hoaxes and weird stories. Why aren’t more of us taking advantage ofthese sites?

I’veactually been tricked a time or two. I’m guilty. Some are so well written---andso frightening---that I have clicked on “forward.” But truly I’ve only donethis less than a handful of times and yet I am the recipient of them almostevery day. There are so many of them it’s a wonder any of the senders everleave their homes, ever eat anything, ever touch anything, ever bend, sit,stand, sleep, bathe, walk outside, or shop.

If mymorning news headlines state a poison bottle of aspirin was found in a store inmy city I presume my neighbors and friends have read or heard about it. Butthroughout the course of the day I could possibly mention it when talking toanyone I know or emailing or social networking. If, however, I receive an emailthat someone found an ancient herb in a bottle of aspirin that causes instantblindness (not true, I repeat, not true), I do NOT pass that one on unless Ilook it up. Some are so ludicrous I don’t bother looking them up because I cantell they are phony. Some are so bad after two sentences I hit “delete.”

Some ofthese emails are not only scary but fraudulent as well. I received two thispast year: one from Bank of America and one from Wells Fargo. The Bank ofAmerica email was about my account and it warned me I was the victim ofidentity theft and that I needed to immediately, by return email, provide mySocial Security number, credit card numbers, phone numbers, address, and manyother pieces of information so that their “fraud unit” could find the culprits.Most of the email looked fairly real except the creator couldn’t spell and thegrammar was, well, foreign. I contacted my bank and was given a website toreport the email but was never contacted for follow-up. I think it happens allthe time. The second email was similar but slicker. Again, it looked like anofficial Wells Fargo email but it was grammatically correct and there were nospelling errors. The one giant error that made me laugh however was the factthat I am not a Wells Fargo customer. I called Wells Fargo and was given asimilar website to report the email but I asked the customer service rep a fewquestions and he said it was quite common. By the way, I did not use the phonenumbers provided in the emails and instead looked the banks up on my own.Calling the phone number provided in the email by the person perpetrating thecrime would not lend itself to resolution. I can only imagine who would beanswering those phone lines!

But thoseemails, though harmful and potentially disastrous, do not frighten folks quitelike the scary emails about deadly interactions with salted tomatoes. Emailsthat threaten life or limb or our children or homes or pets must be researched.I’ve received so many emails about what we must not feed our dogs and cats thathad I followed the advice my pets would starve to death. So each time I hearabout another food item my petsshouldn’t eat or they will DIE I head to a hoax site and check it out. Oftenthe information is slightly true or partly true in that some dogs have had allergic reactions to certain foods. When youcheck percentages it’s small. My sister is allergic to shellfish but her entirefamily still eats it. I have a friend who has the infamous peanut allergy but Ican eat peanut butter out of the jar. It’s important to know about genuineallergens that affect many people but if only a few people are allergic tocelery do we all stop eating it? I know it’s better to be safe than sorry but alittle due diligence, perhaps a call to our doctors and vets (or other expertsdepending on the nasty email) might be better than pressing forward and nevereating a tomato sandwich again. Or---it just might be a great way to take offthose last 10 pounds.

Iconsidered creating a scary email and sending it to everyone in my address bookthen sit back and see if it went viral. I finally decided not to do it becauseI was afraid too many people would stop eating grapes and crush the grapeindustry [pun intended]. My email was about eating grapes after 7 p.m., whichincluded wine, and male performance---heh heh heh.

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Seniors in the Workplace!

2011-11-20T09:49:00.000-08:00

[NOTE: Look to the right of this note and find “Home,” “Fun page,” “Favorite links,” and “Afghans.” Click on them from time to time for additional information! New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on small black arrows for a drop down list.]

Years ago my daughter and I were shopping around Christmastime at a packed national discount store. The employees were busy and barely keeping up with questions while restocking shelves. The cashier lines were long and people were crabby. We finally finished checking out and as we headed to the door an employee stopped most customers from leaving until she checked their carts. She took their receipts and checked items off, initialed the receipts, and wished the customers Merry Christmas. When it was our turn I was stunned to realize she looked to be about my mother’s age who was at that time 75 years old.

That was 11 years ago and it stuck with me. My daughter and I talked about the woman on the way home and the fact that my mom was sitting at home in her cute little house sipping coffee and reading the paper while this woman stood by a large automatic door that blasted her with frigid air with each customer exit. The woman looked tired and though there was a chair near her station it was such a busy day I doubt she had much time to sit down.

I remember saying something stupid to my daughter that I regret to this day: “What a shame that poor woman couldn’t be home sipping coffee and reading the paper instead of working here.” This foolish statement was based on emotion and not on any facts whatsoever. I knew nothing about this woman but made a judgment based on my own parents. I have changed my thinking on this issue now that I am 66 years old.

After that incident, and long before I retired, I began informally interviewing seniors when I encountered them in the workplace and this past year I stepped the research up a notch so that I could share my findings via this post.

The economy 11 years ago was heading toward the mess it is today but it was not nearly as bad and I wasn’t an official “senior” then. I was, however, on that borderline where I could get a few discount meals at some restaurants at 55 years old. I didn’t understand the complexities of what seniors experienced and what their needs and desires were. My only true experience was that of my parents and my grandmother.

I still have a wonderful memory of Grammy reading western novels in her special chair, a chair that I have in my home today. She worked in canneries and as a maid and as a seamstress and as a cook in large homes from the time she was a young girl but eventually moved in with my parents and retired at 65 and had a pleasant and long retirement with a $98 Social Security check each month until her passing at 91.

My naiveté at the discount store finally awakened reality in me. Not all seniors are created equal. Where would Grammy have been on $98 a month without my parents? (Probably standing next to a freezing door at a discount store.) Did the woman at the discount store have family or friends to live with? Did she choose to work there or did she need to work there?

My first “official” interview out of the roughly one hundred over the last year was at my local pharmacy. I’ve observed and chatted with a senior woman who has worked there for many years. Once we had a discussion at the checkout counter about garden gnomes which she collects. Extracting information like this is easy if it is approached with a friendly attitude and prying isn’t necessary. People like to chat, especially seniors. Seniors are sadly often ignored by younger folks. I learned that from another interview which I’ll share in a moment.

I learned this woman lives less than a block from the pharmacy in a senior apartment complex. She has a nice group of friends there and they take public transportation around town to various events and have get-togethers at the complex and she seemed to have a pleasant life. Eventually I gently asked if she “had” to work or did she “choose” to work. Her response was somewhat typical of many I have talked to: both.

Many of the seniors I’ve interviewed, including members of my own family and friends, continue to work because without the extra income they would not be able to participate in any activities. Their pensions or Social Security cover the basics but there is nothing left for trips to town or the movies or dinners out with friends. I met many seniors in this category. One gentleman told me that when he got up and prepared for work he felt every bone and muscle in his body but after he got going and got to work he felt okay. He wasn’t sure that he would be in such good shape if not forced to go to a job each day. He didn’t feel he had the willpower to stay at home and do an exercise routine or socialize. Working kept him “in the world” and helped his stiffness. He explained many of his nonworking neighbors were not doing as well as he was and they were a lot younger. So though he enjoyed the extra income, he enjoyed being productive more.

He also commented on how out of touch many of his neighbors were with other age groups. He encountered every age at work (home and garden super store) and many sought his advice because of his age. As I mentioned earlier though, he said that some younger customers did not want his advice when offered and he often saw them with younger staff members. He was discounted as a valuable resource to the younger set. Sometimes he followed them a bit until in desperation they finally had to ask him for help. He thought this was quite funny because he once ran a construction crew. When they realized what this man had to offer they would frequently visit the store and track him down like a pack of wolves.

Once at a restaurant with friends we were served by a very senior woman. Waiting tables is not for the weak or the feeble. Both my kids worked in restaurants in college and my parents had a small restaurant. It’s grueling work and there is indeed a mental component. Managing several tables and coworkers and crabby cooks is tough work. It’s not often we see seniors in this work environment but here she was. Because we were close to her age we struck up a fun conversation with her throughout the meal which was expertly served to us. I asked how long she had worked there and she said “too many years.” We all laughed and made comments and I expressed she seemed to like her work and that she was excellent at it. She loved her job and said she was going to continue as long as possible. She added that tips for seniors were generous.

A few people I have talked to, and a few seniors I know personally, have continued to work because they have to. Life events occurred (and questionable investing) that set them back as they approached retirement. Of this group most did not continue with their original jobs but instead sought employment elsewhere and often with entirely different duties. Partly this was because employment choices are slim for seniors and party because they didn’t want to remain with their former employers. In fact, many seniors felt their long time employers were equally eager to have them leave.

A few people I’ve met during this past year have asked me questions too. How I was able to retire at 62 is a popular question. For me, and hundreds of thousands like me, I sacrificed better income in the private sector for the benefit-loaded but less pay public sector which included years of excellent pension build up and health care. Though my employer does not pay retiree health care I do have a nice pension for my 20 years and now that I’m 66 I’m able to pay for a decent supplement with my Medicare. Of the people who asked that question a large number were horrified to find themselves in their sixties with no savings and no pension and a spotty work history with periods of unemployment for women who took time off with their young children and they now find themselves in a bad spot. Some said they would have to move in with their adult children if they stopped working but not all of these people felt that to be a viable option. One woman told me she has held off moving in with her son and daughter-in-law, though she has been invited, because she would be a 24/7 babysitter. She loves her grandkids but she didn’t want that responsibility on a daily basis. Still, many seniors have no choice. It’s better than living under a bridge.

Speaking of homeless seniors, I didn’t spend as much time with this group as the working group because my focus was on seniors in the workplace. Walking up to a homeless person in my spiffy casual attire made me self-conscious. Of course, I did include them because I was interested in knowing how they became homeless. They were living in shelters because they either didn’t have a family or other support group, their Social Security was only enough to cover food and medications but not housing, and because many were so poorly educated and marginally employed over the course of their lives they found themselves edged out of meager minimum wage jobs and eventually edged out of their apartments. Many I talked to did want to work but after observing their appearance and their improbable contributions to a workplace I knew that was never going to happen. (I almost always give a few dollars to homeless seniors and anyone with a dog. Judge not lest ye be judged.)

I met these people outside grocery stores and gas stations and coffee shops as they stood outside with little signs asking for money. I know a lot of people don’t believe people with their little signs but it’s important to know that not everyone is a con artist. There are people asking for money on the street who genuinely need money for survival who are simply at the bottom of the human barrel. It’s everywhere in the world but it’s appalling to find it in our country. And every day more and more people join the ranks of the unemployed and homeless and very little is said about the growing number of seniors joining this group.

We are created equal but we don’t stay that way. Because of circumstances beyond our control or poor life choices based on inadequate parenting in our youth, many of us end up in dire straits. Add to that the mentally incapacitated, the addicts, the illiterate, and those born into poverty that stay there their entire lives, it’s no wonder that some seniors continue to work as long as possible.

One man who is often at my regular gas station collects enough money to stay in a “hotel” two or three times a month and the remaining days he stays at shelters or stays outside. He looks a lot older than my mom but he could be younger than I am. The streets are not kind to seniors.

A friend and coworker of mine, pushing 80, passed away at home one night after a routine day AT WORK. For years we wondered when he would retire but we eventually realized he would never retire. I was the first one in the office each day and I would quickly travel up and down the hallway and check all the offices looking for him. I feared the day I might find him slumped over in his chair but he died peacefully in a comfy chair in his own home after a normal day at work. Though he never benefitted from the beautiful retirement he had coming to him after years of working and investing, we all knew he died doing what he loved: working. It kept him young and provided the office with many years of valuable expertise on many subjects.

Of the folks I met only a few were disappointed they still worked. Those people, I learned, were the ones who had health problems that made working uncomfortable, or people who had simply worked “hard” for many years and were truly tired. The majority of the people I chatted with needed the money and the next largest group needed the mental stimulation and the rest fell mostly in the middle of “need” and “want.” The most important lesson I learned was seniors are a feisty bunch and they can contribute to the workforce for a very long time if, as one gentleman said, “God’s willin’ and the creek don’t rise.”

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Mom's Medical Alert System

2011-11-12T11:22:00.000-08:00

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Mom, at 86, is still living on her own, marginally. My stepdad is in a nursing home. They live about an hour from me and I drive north once or twice a week (or more sometimes) to visit, run a few errands, help with whatever she needs in the house, and we discuss her bookkeeping which I handle mostly from my home. She has a helper who also stops by a couple times of week who does light housekeeping, errands, and provides companionship for four hours each visit. Though mom’s various health and mental issues are increasing, mom insists on staying in her house. She has more confidence in her abilities than I do.

I don’t blame folks for wanting to stay in their homes but inevitably there seems to come a time when that doesn’t work for them---or their families. They often do not realize how far they have fallen. I believe that’s where we are now but mom just doesn’t agree. She knows she’s limited and in fact no longer leaves her home unless it’s to visit the doctor and I take her to all her appointments. If she has an urgent but nonemergency need she calls her helper. She also has wonderful neighbors. But I became increasingly more worried about her declining health and whether or not she would be able to summon help in an emergency and felt it was time for something else.

I spent several days researching medical alert systems. I called friends with similar parent issues. I discussed the systems with my mom. She didn’t argue the need but I could tell she didn’t feel it was necessary. Prior to researching systems my stepsister and her husband and I had a long talk with mom and urged her to move in with me. She wouldn’t budge.

I finally found a system that worked well for mom and that was within her budget. Set up was very easy and she understands how it works. The system does not only protect her in the event of a health emergency but is also a fire alarm, burglar alarm, or any type of emergency she may have. She knows it’s for all emergencies. If she remembers.

Each time I visit her I ask to see her emergency button which she keeps concealed in her clothing. For some reason she refuses to wear it outside like a necklace. I am afraid if she falls on her chest she will not be able to pull it from inside her clothes. She refuses to wear it outside because she says it isn’t attractive.

Sometimes when I ask to see the button she looks at me and I can tell she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Once it sinks in she pulls it out then we have about a 30 minute discussion of its uses and review what she needs to do if she has any emergencies. Sometimes I have faith she “gets” it and other times I drive home in a blue funk.

A friend of mine has a mom in the same situation. She’s 93 and still lives on her own and refuses to move in with family. Again, I don’t blame her but we all worry about our parents living on their own when they have mental and physical limitations. She now has a medical alarm system which provides a little peace of mind for my friend and her family.

Many seniors do not eat properly because meal preparation is difficult. I cook for mom and so does her helper but I find the meals I’ve prepared in the fridge all the time---uneaten. When I ask why she doesn’t eat them she says she does. The trash can tells a different story. Mostly she survives on cheese and crackers, breakfast pastries, coffee and wine. I believe it’s because she doesn’t want to take the few minutes necessary to place a meal in the microwave. We’ve tried to make it as easy as possible but even that simple procedure is unappealing to her. When I visit I buy a special lunch treat for us. Recently after eating our lunch she asked me when I was going to get our meal. We had eaten only an hour before. Her doctor was stunned at her weight gain on our last visit. She confessed she eats crackers and cheese and pastries. He shot me a look. It’s my fault?

Her care providers all think I should move in with her. Abandon my life and store all my belongings and sell or rent out my house. I have explained that it would be better for her to come and live with me since I live an active life. But they make me feel that’s a selfish concept. After all, I’m not married. They would never ask this of a married couple but single people are considered less than whole without a mate and therefore apparently our lives are less important. Guilt piled upon guilt.

The medical alert system will work if she has an emergency but it can’t cook her a meal. It can’t remind her to take her medications which she forgets all the time now. It can’t encourage her to do her daily exercises to treat her lung condition. It can’t help her find things that she misplaces all day every day (and calls me and asks if I know where they are). It can’t visit with her. If she has an emergency it will help her---if she remembers it or can access it. Still, I’m glad I set it up for her and all the rest just sits in a cloud over my head and I jump when the phone rings. The system operators will call me once it’s activated after they contact the appropriate help for her emergency.

I do feel better knowing she has the system and I call her every day and remind her about it---and her meds. I don’t know how kids with failing parents manage when they live hundreds of miles away. I’ve made many 80 mile-per-hour dashes north when things have gone wrong. I guess other kids hop on planes or trains. I guess there’s no easy solution for caring for a parent but there are things that can help. A medical alert system has helped me a little though it’s not cheap. There are many other things that would help but they are outside our budget. Having a helper visit twice a week and the alert system are both tight budget items.

Yet I have come to realize that all I can do is offer my help and I put handles in the bathroom and a special bathing chair in the tub and a handle on the small step that leads to her family room and purchased a transport style wheelchair for trips to the doctor and a small walker (which she never uses) and the medical alert system and found a stool so she can sit by the sink when preparing food (the aforementioned crackers and cheese and pastries) and call her every day, and sometimes a couple of times if I think she’s “foggy” I make an extra trip north if I think the fog isn’t lifting and keep in contact with neighbors and her helper and leave my phone on 24/7.

I don’t have to worry about mom reading this because she no longer remembers how to turn on her computer. When I turn it on for her she doesn’t remember any of the steps required to read her email or look at the news or read my blogs. But even if she did read this blog she would agree with what I’ve written. We discuss her “issues” each visit so this piece would not surprise nor offend her. But I’m not worried because the last time I was there her computer hadn’t been plugged in and the battery was dead. I just left it that way to see if she would call and ask me what was wrong with it. No call yet.

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Are you swayed by debates?

2011-11-04T04:51:00.000-07:00

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The short answer is---unlikely. Naturally, it’s complicated so I did a little research. I also searched within my own mind because my core beliefs are so deep I can’t remember ever---ever---ever changing one. However, I have changed my opinion on many other things in life.

Whether or not someone likes mustard on a hot dog and another likes ketchup is not part of this process. Over the years as I’ve matured my taste buds matured, my interest in certain books and movies has matured, my taste in colors has changed from earth tones to bright primary colors, and the like. Those likes and dislikes are simple daily pleasures or annoyances and can be easily changed or not but whatever we decide we can manage without angst. No, this post is about the big stuff: religion, politics, social issues, lifestyle choices, feelings about addictions, marriage, child rearing, and countless other issues that can turn a person to putty when challenged.

When we hear the word “debate” it’s usually in connection with elections, especially as of late. However, we debate issues all the time, every day, all over the world. We even debate with our children. It doesn’t matter that we are the parents and they are the children. The debates explode and can sometimes create horrible barriers to harmonious family lives. Some family debates end up with years of family feuding. And let’s not forget the Hatfields and McCoys!

Office debates are similar but continuation of employment usually brings folks to some sort of compromise---but not always. Of course, the outrageous outcomes we read about in the news are not what most of us experience. Still, some of the people who bring guns to work often get that way because of disputes and unresolved issues and debating who is right or wrong. Arguing with people who have fragile mental control is dangerous we have all learned.

But the type of debate I’ve been thinking about recently is the political debate. In my entire 66 years I have never changed my opinion about any person due to their debate expertise, pro or con. In fact, even if they are not very good at debating sometimes they get their point across so debate style is highly overrated. I personally don’t care if someone is a pro at debating. That’s something that can be learned. It’s a skill one develops in politics and some learn it better than others. Some, like Ronald Reagan, join politics already highly skilled in speech-giving even though most of what he spoke about ran shivers of absolute horror up my spine. It didn’t matter because he was handsome, charming, and could talk the sugar off the cookie (i.e., a sweet talker). The fact he didn’t prepare his platform and was a mouthpiece was lost on the naïve populace because of his excellence in appearance and presentation. But not me. Nor anyone in my camp.

So if someone as expert as Ronald Reagan couldn’t change my political position it is unlikely all these Johnny-come-latelys are going to and none of them hold a candle to Ronald Reagan. I’ve listened to a few of these debates, bits and pieces, but mostly I prefer watching the various analyses after the debates. The part I find particularly amusing is the TV screen split into four parts and each head screams and interrupts the other talking heads. It’s better than a late night comedy show. And they are all full of hot air. There are serious commentators and analysts to be found on TV, but good luck finding them.

I don’t get a lot of my news from TV, nor do I get much of anything from TV, but I like to search the internet for news and that’s where I’ve found detailed blow by blow analyses of the various debates and interviews. Though I always state that my political leanings are slightly to the left of Jesus, I do look for people with opposing views who do not spew filth and hate and lies and there are many out there I respect. I don’t particularly have a “side.” When it comes to politicians I don’t believe or trust any of them nor anything they say. Instead, I dig in and look it all up myself. It’s so easy to do and when I am discussing events with people it’s disheartening that a) they often do not know what I’m talking about, and/or b) they believe whatever B.S. they hear if it’s related to their “party.”

So when these huge debates hit the airwaves with the beautifully crafted and designed background TV “sets” and candidates dressed in their finest with slicked backed or coiffed hair it’s an impressive sight. They appear bigger than life and represent, supposedly, the best of humanity. People who are devoting their lives to public service. In reality, regardless of political party, they are self-promoting, opportunistic, charlatans who are purposely duping the citizens with razzle dazzle speech writers and speeches often filled with pure malarkey.

When this happens it’s not too dangerous if the speakers are bad at delivering speeches or carefully crafted responses that they can’t quite spit out, but when we see a pro, such as Ronald Reagan, it is our responsibility---our duty---to ferret out the information on our own. Too little of this is done to the detriment of our political system. Too many times people believe what is said and only days later do we learn the candidates sheepishly apologize and say they didn’t mean that exactly, what they really meant to say was . . .

We have become a very confrontational society. It’s appalling to watch news “shows” with guests pontificating on their opposite views and the commentators barely hanging on to control. Add to that the several seconds of delayed feed in case someone uses the “F” bomb then it makes a huge mess and my chest hurts.

But whether we want to participate in the debauchery of debates (that just sort of rolled off the tongue) or we would rather spend a little time digging into candidate voting records (all easily obtainable and reliable on official public sites) and digging into their bios, and digging into both sides of issues important to us, is all up to us. But if we don’t do the research we should probably not pontificate on our views otherwise we could make fools of ourselves.

My mantra is: don’t believe everything you see or hear. Check it out and make sure opposing views are part of your research. You won’t change your mind about your core beliefs but you will know if your candidate is really who you want. There are people out there, somewhere, with your views who are actually smart and honest. Not too many but there may be a few. I’m still looking for folks with my views but most of them are dead.

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written p permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Are you poor?

2011-10-28T09:36:00.000-07:00

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Are you poor? Socio economic levels are measured in a variety of ways and by various groups of people. Government statisticians, private research groups, entities interested in particular segments of society, and so forth. From country to country and culture to culture it can mean vastly different things to information gatherers. Sometimes the results are critical to assist people in dire need of help. Sometimes the results appeal to product marketing. Yet, what is “poverty” beyond the numbers assigned to that group? When do the “poor” slip into official “poverty” or are the two terms the same? Researchers do know millions are not counted at all. They fall between the cracks.

I grew up in a home that by today’s standards would be considered poor. It was after WWII and everyone lived like we did, mostly. We never reached middle class the entire time I lived at home. My dad died at 38 and only after my mom remarried many years later did she finally arrive at what we might call “middle class.” I was grown then and on my own.

Sadly, my stepdad has been in a nursing home for about eight years and by some standards today at age 86 mom might be considered poor---again. Not at a poverty level but poor. She doesn’t think so when she compares how she lives to the rest of the world. In fact, she feels comfortable compared to most of her previous life, the part before and after I was born. Her life didn’t change to a more comfortable level until she met and married my stepdad and they combined incomes. My stepdad has a pension and so she remains at home living somewhat independently, but modestly.

When raising my own kids as a divorced mom I had many hilarious conversations with other divorced moms. Our kids all thought we were poverty stricken because none of us single parents could match the consumption level of two-parent families. Designer jeans, trendy colorful watches, snazzy sneakers, and the like. Fortunately, there were no electronics nor cell phones in those days. Those items slowly crept into our lives around the time my kids were grown, thankfully. I didn’t own a home after the divorce and it was challenging to find rentals in nice neighborhoods that I could afford. But I did. I spent three-quarters of my income on housing to keep us safe. I didn’t think I was poor but most of my friends did which I didn’t learn until many years later. They have often told me how sorry they felt for us. I guess when you are living in “the moment” labels aren’t significant. I kept us housed and fed. I didn’t think then---and still don’t think---that’s poor. Statistics gatherers do, however, because my spending did not match the middle class norm. I was a statistic and didn’t know it!

We had limitations two-parent families didn’t have. We had normal home amenities, a modest car that got us from Point A to Point B, and pizza and a video every Friday night. Still, our disposable income was disposed of rapidly. I had a decent job and paid the bills. That isn’t poor but it isn’t the middle class dream. I went to night school for five years and that helped some with a promotion at work but it was too little too late and soon the kids were gone. By the time I started earning more the kids were on their own.

My dad had employment issues when I was growing up and he died young and it was hard on my mom so she worked in a cannery at night so she could be with me during the day time. My grandmother lived with us and she worked alternate shifts to cover time when my mom was gone. Due to employment depression my dad developed alcohol problems which is common. He dropped out of high school at 16 to join the Navy during World War II like many men in his era. Many veterans returning from war---then and now---are poorly educated, untrained, and almost unemployable. He eventually moved the family and bought a small business but it was sadly too late for his declining health and he passed away before he could realize his dream.

When dad found employment it didn’t last long but while it did our standard of living skyrocketed. I can pinpoint the times he was employed by memories of huge family dinners and long drives and picnics and new purchases for the family. But there were many more dim times without the skyrockets. I had no idea we were considered poor.

Poor families are defined by percentage of their consumption as applied to their income. I learned while researching this piece that technically "relative poverty" means having significantly less access to income and wealth than other members of society. That was us growing up and for many years for my own kids. I’m glad I didn’t know that then.

Poverty is also defined demographically and by race, by family status, age (seniors who lived relative comfy lives before retiring are often plunged into poverty because of housing and poor health care coverage), and other factors. Some folks slip from the middle class to poverty almost overnight with the loss of a job, divorce, illness, death of a primary family earner, and sometimes natural disasters. This happens in a healthy economy and is devastating in a poor economy.

The most important factors in determining if people are poor or living in poverty is whether or not they have adequate housing and most importantly adequate food (which is why I never thought I was poor because I always had adequate---albeit modest---housing and food). Some studies narrow that consideration to food only. Homeless people living in certain areas have access to food banks and kitchens. Some homeless people have poor access and some no access whatsoever. Some can’t access it if it’s staring them in the face due to mental health issues.

Today more than ever in history, including the “great depression,” we have the “working poor” who are homeless. They have menial jobs they go to each day which might pay for a few items but they live in shelters or on the street. This group often includes families.

An office I worked for adopted a room in a shelter many years ago. This shelter provided emergency housing for families who lost their homes via foreclosure, eviction, job loss, death of a wage earner, etc. As an adoptive “parent,” we provided goods and cash to the shelter to outfit the rooms with furniture, clothing for a variety of sizes and ages, mattresses, toiletries, diapers, blankets, and so forth. During the time the families stayed in these rooms at the shelter counselors worked with them to find permanent housing, employment, got the kids back in school, and generally counseled the entire family and attempted to get them back on their feet. Sometimes large families would occupy one small room. But they were happy to be there and off the streets. They had nutritious meals and they were safe. Many shelters can no longer manage the huge numbers that have come to them for help. Donations have evaporated along with jobs and housing.

Poverty can alter behavior. Poor nutrition can alter behavior. Being cold 24 hours a day can alter behavior. Being covered with lice and living with rats can alter behavior. Being sick can alter behavior. Being scared can alter behavior. Being poor can turn some to criminal acts. Being poor can turn some people violent. Being so poor school isn’t an option is a disaster waiting to happen.

We have 14 million unemployed who have lost everything. That number will soon grow with the estimated 2 million foreclosures expected in California alone in 2012 and the promise of jobs may be too late for some. In addition to the number of people entering poverty statistics, crime statistics, especially opportunistic thievery like home break-ins and muggings and drug use, will increase proportionately. Besides being sad, it’s downright scary.

B.P. and mortgage finance institutions and corporations moving abroad and/or outsourcing have destroyed huge parts of the world yet some people are mad because a few protesters have befouled public parks. That’s a disconnect that feeds the downward spiral of life as we know it (or knew it) in our country. Dr. King had the same concerns with a few protesters but he didn’t give up the movement because of the actions of a few. He pressed on.

Trick or treat.

[Note: Here’s a link that says it far better than my feeble attempt.]

http://whatever.scalzi.com/2005/09/03/being-poor/

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Occupy S.F. March of 10/15/11

2011-10-22T14:05:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: Look to the right of this note and find “Home,” “Fun page,” “Favorite links,” and “Afghans.” Click on them from time to time for additional information! New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.

Not all foreclosures have occurred via unsavory people in the home finance industry. A growing number have lost their homes because they lost their jobs either by “downsizing” or company bankruptcies or closures or outsourcing or other questionable corporate practices. Some corporations have taken millions in government loans and then filed bankruptcy and told everyone to hit the road.

Some people have lost their homes due to fraudulent lending practices AND the loss of employment---a combo. Foreclosures are still growing and it is anticipated we haven’t seen the end of it. Another huge number of them will take place in 2012. Without employment and a decent home millions of us are suffering solely due to financial malfeasance created by corporations/Congress. And so I joined the Occupy S.F. movement last weekend with my son. What a tremendous experience. It was glorious!

We got up early and took the ferry to San Francisco. I live about 60 miles north of the city. Parking is always a problem so we chose the ferry. The movement was stationed near the Ferry Building so in a hop, skip, and a jump---there we were. When we arrived at the “camp” we were surprised it was such a small group. However, we soon learned these were the permanent bunch of people truly occupying space with sleeping bags and food stations and port-a-potties and sign making stations and information “booths” and lecture podiums and the like. I was taken back to the ‘60s and I loved it. In fact, it was glorious.

Most of the people we met were not around in the ‘60s for the great Viet Nam marches and the marches with Dr. King. But I was and I participated then and was happy to see Americans fighting for Americans all over again. Also a little sad to realize that we have to fight again. I guess maintaining our Constitution is a lifelong ongoing process. The minute our “leaders” decide to interpret the Constitution the average American starts getting cheated out of the promise so we must take to the streets from time to time to set them straight. I’m absolutely thrilled that we can---otherwise we would be living in North Korea. I don’t think any of us want that. I thought about North Korea a lot during that Saturday event. Shivers ran down my spine. When people complain about protestors they should spend a couple of months in a country where protesting isn’t allowed. They will find it’s life altering, like, you know, death.

The movement “headquarters” was in front of the Federal Reserve Bank and everyone there calmly went about their assigned tasks before the big march. Some took naps, some chatted with the police officers who were stationed there, others ran food runs and brought back food and beverages to share, and others started speeches and small groups would appear and listen. We stood there and chatted with people for a few hours until everything magically changed. Suddenly, excitement filled the air.

The parade was scheduled to begin at 3:00 p.m. Up till around 2:30 not too much had changed in the group we had joined then a huge mass of people started arriving and we all spilled out into the streets. At 3:00 p.m. the march began. It was spectacularly organized by both the police and protest leaders. They worked hand in hand and it was no easy task. They had expected several hundred and instead several thousand had appeared. The organizers were grinning ear-to-ear. Switching crowd control methods on the spot must have been daunting and yet it went off without a hitch. It was glorious.

Participating in huge events where there is the possibility of being crushed by a surging crowd has never been a favorite activity of mine. Sporting events, concerts, parades, huge public forums, all have had terrible things go wrong. Crowd crushing is a serious concern without expert organization. But soon we were underway and there was a calm presence throughout the event and no pushing, shoving, or aggression by anyone---including the police presence.

There were many officers assigned to the march to protect us, the marchers, and the traffic and people just shopping and walking on the sidewalks who were not part of the protest. Amazingly, as we progressed many tourists and locals joined the march and every time they did the crowd roared with excitement. Soon we had roughly six thousand marchers. Cable cars rang their bells keeping time with our chants. It was glorious. (How many times can I say it was glorious?) It was glorious.

As expected at any large event, the march was filled with the good, the bad, and the disappointing. Many homeless people live in San Francisco and some tried to join us but failed due to poor health and mental issues that were sadly all too apparent. They did not present a problem that day but I understand they have been a problematic presence at all the “Occupy” camps and then shown on the evening news as problem people as though they are part of the movement. It’s natural for them to gravitate to the people camping out and I’m sure many hope to find food and companionship. It can be a problem with people with addictions and mental disorders. However, the Occupy group is a humane organization and they turn no one away, even if the people are detrimental to the true mission. (And actually, homelessness and the mentally challenged are part of the human movement every day.)

We hear many negatives about hygiene problems and trouble makers at some of the camps and some have been torn down but it’s mostly due to people who are not true to the movement but just people who need help with so many personal issues. So Occupy must constantly move and keep some semblance of organization for the big events they plan for. Not easy. It’s been an age-old problem with all demonstrations. Or people who beat people in the parking lots of our major sporting events. Those people do not represent the entire group of sports spectators just as a few difficult people do not represent the Occupy movement.

I wrote this piece because I hear negative comments about people who protest, that they are un-American, that they are not patriotic, that they are Communists, etc. It is, in fact, the very epitome of being a true American. People who fight like hell either in or out of uniform to keep our country strong and free from takeover by foreign interests and out of control government and corporate shenanigans. We are drowning on all fronts and we need to stand up and fight for ourselves and our way of life because our government has let us down.

Along with the problem people that cling to these types of events there are inevitably “plants,” people who are placed in the events to spy, to cause trouble deliberately to appease a personal agenda or an opposite point of view, and even government infiltration. Government plants may not be evil in design but just used to make sure no one is toting a bomb or some nasty device designed to hurt people. I thought about that all day as I marched along and wondered how many people were not true members of the movement but, well, spies. It was starting to make me uncomfortable so I stopped that line of thinking. I think I’ve watched "MI-5" too much, the wonderful British series about spies and the nastiness of it all.

Movements sometimes shoot themselves in the foot. The good intentions take on monstrous out of control proportions with no control and before long we end up with power mongers fighting power mongers. None of this was apparent at this gathering. In fact, the leaders were easily identifiable and they were continuously working crowd control and smiling and encouraging people to move left or right and at one point we were asked to slow down so that the stragglers in the very back could catch up, people in wheelchairs and people with kids and strollers. It was a family event. It was glorious.

Not long after the march began my son and I took inventory and noticed the participants were mostly middle class types, diversely represented. Many wore suburban style clothing, brought their kids and dogs, and had picnic totes. Many times we fell into brief conversations with one another and overheard conversations and a majority of the people there had lost their jobs and homes. Typical middle class folks who had lost it all. Add to that the chronically unemployed and it quickly jumps to millions of disenfranchised Americans. Hence, the popularity of this movement. If you haven’t lost a home or a job you probably know someone who has. I do.

It is my understanding that the Tea Party movement has similar issues as far as why members join their protests and events. Americans who have lost everything---or are worried they will---are clinging to the Tea Party or the Occupy movement for help and answers. All movements open to anyone must be ever vigilant to make sure the movement and its beliefs are not violated. Many have compared the Occupy movement with the Tea Party in that both groups have been infiltrated with people who have very different agendas. It’s the price we pay to have our voices heard and we must simply pay attention to people around us. For the most part, both groups do want the same things but are going about it somewhat differently with different goals and expectations. Everyone is spying on everyone but we shouldn’t allow that situation to deter us from our goal: peaceful, passive, civil disobedience.

1. Passive Resistance: Opposition to a government or to specific governmental laws by the use of noncooperation and other nonviolent methods, boycotts, and protest marches.

2. Civil Disobedience: The refusal to obey certain laws or governmental demands for the purpose of influencing legislation or government policy characterized by the employment of such nonviolent techniques as boycotting, picketing, and nonpayment of taxes.

3. Anarchy: Absence of any form of political authority. Political disorder and confusion. Absence of any cohesive principle, such as a common standard or purpose.

Choice number 3 is not what protesting is all about. Nor should it be. There were those who made changes for humanity without anarchy. Jesus, Gandhi, and Dr. King were very successful with passive resistance and civil disobedience. They all gave their lives for the people they served and loved. (Saddam Hussein, Moammar Gadhafi, and Kim Jong Il---not so much.)

We must not forget the sacrifices of our great leaders and always fight to protect those who are not able---or not willing---to fight for what is right. It’s who we are.

[For more information on the great “1967 Spring Mobilization Against the War in Viet Nam” click on the link and further links with additional information will appear!

http://www.vietnamwar.net/SpringMobilization.htm

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written p permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

10 Years in Afghanistan!

2011-10-14T08:25:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: To the right of this note find “Home,” “Fun page,” “Favorite links,” and “Afghans.” Click on them from time to time for additional information! New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on small black arrows for a drop down list.]

Last week marked our 10th year in Afghanistan and we have a lot to celebrate!

First, we have succeeded in driving the Taliban into oblivion never to return. Next, opium is no longer grown and the farmers have now turned to other crops and property owners are making even more billions than they made with opium. After all, everyone loves potatoes. (And the warlords share the potato billions with the farmers.)

Next, women and girls now wear whatever clothing suits the climate (and their wishes) and all girls attend school. Women attend adult training and education classes and have entered the work force in huge numbers. Their husbands, fathers, and brothers applaud this change and have joined the women in education and training.

The few remaining American soldiers no longer carry weapons and instead stroll the lovely streets of Kabul visiting outdoor cafés and fruit stands. American men and women frequently socialize with Afghani men and women and date openly with blessings of both cultures.

The vast wealth left behind by the demise of the Taliban was enough to build every citizen of Afghanistan a decent home and hundreds of schools and hospitals have popped up around the entire country.

Religions from all over the world have flocked to Afghanistan where religious freedom is first priority of the new government. All religions get along swimmingly.

Speaking of the new government, they copied our U.S. Constitution to the “t” and have produced a Congress that is the envy of the world. Immigration is encouraged and popular.

Crime has disappeared entirely and the Afghan military and local police enforcement have little to do but join our remaining soldiers at the aforementioned cafés and fruit stands for conversation and tea.

The majority of our Afghan troops have come home leaving only a small group to help with all the new and wonderful changes. When they do come home they receive specialized training and education and have easily assimilated back into the American employment pool. The pool is healthy because the money that was previously going to Afghanistan is now flowing back into our schools and programs to develop strong American citizens.

Finally, just as we had hoped, because of our close relationship with Afghanistan after the ousting of the Taliban, hundreds of thousands of Afghanistan citizens have come to the U.S. to obtain citizenship and find great jobs. They pledge to send millions of dollars back to their homeland to enrich it and keep it safe from future evil, wherever it lurks.

Wow. It’s been an amazing ten years. Look what we’ve accomplished.

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

The Corporate States of America

2011-10-07T08:47:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: Look to the right of this note and find “Home,” “Fun page,” “Favorite links,” and “Afghans.” Click on them from time to time for additional information! New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

Around 14 million U.S. folks are out of work. Some for two years or more. Those are the people counted via government entities such as our local employment offices. There are thousands (millions?) more that do not fall into that category. This last group has had lifelong employment issues and falls between the cracks and isn’t counted---ever. Though they are citizens, they are typically unskilled, poorly educated, and have a family history of poverty going back several generations and possibly mental issues or other factors such as addictions. Not so much in the teeny tiny less than 1% percent of our population, our wealthy corporate citizens with their hands in our Congressional pockets, the so-called “job creators.”

We have way too many poverty level citizens in this country and the count is growing. They are often unemployed or marginally employed and now it’s worse for them than ever. It is difficult for them to break out of that state in good times. In bad times when millions more are out of work the latter group falls so far behind that they will never recover even if it rains gold tomorrow.

Add to that the people who have lost their homes and jobs due to natural disasters of which we’ve had many over the last few years. They are counted in the first group but many more fall into the second group, unrecorded. Many soldiers who return home went into the military because they had high hopes and expectations they would learn skills for a career when they returned. Sadly, many of the skills they learned do not translate into today’s employment pool. If they went in uneducated they often received duties that were likely to kill or injure them rather than train them for a career at home. If they return injured their medical care is spotty and sometimes nonexistent unless they have an injury or illness that would work well in the headlines. Many soldiers return with injuries that are not glamorous but keep them from jobs for a long time.

My daughter has a friend who has multiple cancers and war related injuries and he has spent years trying to get a disability claim with no luck. He served in Viet Nam and he has been put through unbelievable tasks to prove his injuries were related to Agent Orange. He now has an advocate helping him that my daughter found for him. The government did not find an advocate to help him.

We are not in a recession, not even a depression. We are in the midst of a disaster and we’re barely holding on. Our capitalistic society is out of whack. Furthermore, there are countless forms of capitalism and if we research that word we can get a brain freeze from the various meanings of the many systems of capitalism. What we have now is not what the majority of Americans believe we have. And what we have today is not what we had when our nation was formed. It’s all out there to discover but watch alcohol intake when researching. It can turn you into a blithering idiot.

I know people out of work and some have been out of work off and on for several years now. They find something only to have it disappear after working for a short time. Companies are closing by the thousands. My son and I drive around and visit popular shopping areas to ascertain vacancies (it’s a hobby) and we keep a little list of the shops as they disappear one by one. Each time we do this we spot more business closures. Some are quite large and leave huge gaping black holes in the middle of shopping malls or industrial complexes. (Black holes, as we all know, suck up everything around them.)

People have recently started protesting on Wall Street and in various other financial districts throughout the country (and world). Congress has the lowest approval rating ever. Many blame it all on Obama when in fact we don’t have presidents with real power. He just inherited years of crappola from his predecessors. And not just George. It goes waayyyyyyy back. It's been coming a long time. All the blame lands on Congress. Folks who have traditionally supported our government no matter how poorly it managed our country have stopped that silly behavior and it seems everyone is questioning our government leaders. Even some of our government leaders are questioning each other. (That is called passing the buck.) Anyone who believes we have political parties is asleep. The powerful democrats and republicans have merely melded into one inefficient and deficient entity with varying viewpoints but really they are the same viewpoints just slightly skewed for personal reasons.

China has been manipulating its currency and undervaluing its currency to such an extent that we are facing even more financial disasters (is that even possible?) in the near future because Congress has linked us so closely with China’s financial control over us. Congress did that. Congress has also dug itself such a hole bowing to the corporations in our country and other countries that they can’t dig themselves out. No matter how we vote or who we vote for no changes will take place unless we have massive Congressional reforms. (We need voting reforms too but I already posted a piece on that sad topic.) We don’t need a new president. We need a new Congress. And not the same type of Congress types. We need real people with real lives and no sense of entitlement. We need you and you and you and you and you. We could clean up some of the unemployment problem by cleaning our Congressional hallways. That would include all the employees who got there by nepotism, cronyism, corporatyism. I know. That’s not a real word. But it works.

Banks and other related financial institutions and Wall Street(s) have become horrific behemoths that have gotten away with the most outrageous financial wrong doing since the beginning of time. Oil companies have been doing that for years with no end in sight and no genuine interest in Congress to force automakers and their subsidiaries to create alternative fuel vehicles on a huge scale (creating j-o-b-s).

The individual morals of our Congressional leaders and corporate leaders have hit the news so many times the rest of the world thinks we are a bunch of child molesters and adulterers and criminals and robber barons. Many people who previously approved of our military actions are wondering why we are still out “there” when we have so many horrendous problems on our own soil. Our own soldiers are wondering why we are in those areas. (It’s because war is a lucrative business and billions of dollars are being made by war machine providers. Many of the providers provide poor quality materials to our soldiers endangering their lives but they charge us outrageous prices for basic daily needs of a soldier. Many soldiers report it’s a daily effort just to keep their supplies and equipment in working order. If not for duct tape they’d be lost.)

The war against terror is here, in our country. It’s been here for a long time. Drug/criminal activity has ruined us. Yet, we are being terrorized more insidiously by our Congressional gang members with their corporate buddies than all the drug cartels combined.

But Congress’ poor behavior has rallied the citizenry like nothing before in our history. Nothing has gotten us together as a unifying force as much as the shenanigans taking place in Congress. People who fought and screamed at each other about their own political “values” are coming together and realizing they have been duped by our leaders.

For those who hate Michael Moore, who does nothing but try to keep us afloat and keep our jobs and keep our homes and try to keep Congress under control, watch Capitalism: A Love Story. It’s true he has an agenda. It’s called saving our butts. It isn’t necessary to like him. He isn’t trying to be popular. [Every fact presented in his documentary can be verified. Every single fact. If the reader cares to test that statement, go for it. It’s so easy to find the truth if only we look it up and refuse to believe what our leaders tell us.] Congress, filled with people we vote for and believe in, is totally and completely controlled by corporations and foreign interests. It’s so out of control that our very way of life is not threatened, it is already under attack. We are living in a fog and the people protesting on Wall Street know this.

We must wake up from our fairy tale. There is no prince coming for us. No one person is going to dig us out. It’s all up to us as a country. What can we do? Pay attention. Protect our interests individually first. Family comes first. But then reach out and be vocal about the demise of the greatest nation on the earth. Protest with our buying power, protest with crappy customer service that is outsourced, protest with poor quality items we are forced to buy because these items are no longer manufactured here in our own country, write to our Congressional leaders every day if possible, never believe what is printed in the paper without researching if it’s true or not, never believe hate emails pontificating on stupid stories with no basis in fact. Be responsible.

People without a home or a job will agree with me. People sitting in their nice comfy house with a good job might not. Until they lose it. Think it’s not possible? Neither did those millions that lost everything. That’s in the millions. M-i-l-l-i-o-n-s. (Herman Cain believes if you don’t have a job it’s your fault and you’re lazy. The world is full of people like him.)

It is our patriotic duty, each and every one of us, to protect our Constitution and our government and our soldiers. Don’t believe everything we are told by our politicians and our corporate media “shows.” Research everything. "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." Let’s add women to that too, please.

Oops. I almost forgot. How’s your health insurance working for you? If you have any. MILLIONS do not. Millions never have had it and never will. In the U.S.A.

Recession: The National Bureau of Economic Research defines an economic recession as: "a significant decline in economic activity spread across the economy, lasting more than a few months, [a few months??? Really??? We’ve had many YEARS now.] normally visible in real GDP, real income, employment, industrial production, and wholesale-retail sales."

Depression: “A sustained, long-term downturn in economic activity in one or more economies [one or more??? Really??? We have thousands.]. A depression is a more severe downturn than a recession, which is seen by some economists as part of the modern business cycle. A depression is characterized by its length, by abnormally large increases in unemployment, falls in the availability of credit—often due to some kind of banking or financial crisis, shrinking output—as buyers dry up and suppliers cut back on production, and investment, large number of bankruptcies—including sovereign debt defaults, significantly reduced amounts of trade and commerce—especially international, as well as highly volatile relative currency value fluctuations—most often due to devaluations. Price deflation, financial crises and bank failures are also common elements of a depression that are not normally a part of a recession.

Disaster: A disaster is a natural or man-made hazard that has come to fruition, resulting in an event of substantial extent causing significant physical damage or destruction, loss of life, or drastic change to the environment. A disaster can be defined as any tragic event with great loss stemming from events such as earthquakes, floods, catastrophic accidents (mortgage failures? employment loss?), fires, or explosions. In contemporary academia, disasters are seen as the consequence of inappropriately managed risk. These risks are the product of hazards and vulnerability.

And to top it all off, Andy Rooney retired this past Sunday. Now what are we going to do?

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Rental Car Rip-Offs

2011-09-30T08:39:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: I have closed my Yahoo website and I’m moving that content to this site. Look to the right of this note and find “Home” and “Fun page.” I’ve just added “Favorite Links” and an “Afghan” button. Click on the buttons from time to time for additional information and updates. New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

My daughter recently spent three weeks in paradise. She works hard and earned every minute of her time far away in the middle of the ocean. She swam with turtles, took naps in the sand, walked for hours exploring grottos and pools and ponds, drank gallons of Kona coffee, went parasailing for the first time, snorkeling for hours, went on a catamaran outing with a gourmet lunch on a deserted beach, and drank tropical drinks loaded with fruit and topped off with umbrellas. When she came home she moved as though in a fog. She was relaxed and happy. Until she got her credit card bill.

Vacation rip-offs are plentiful. There are so many ways to rip off a tourist that books have been written on the topic. A brief visit online with appropriate search words brings up enough reading to make one never want to leave home. Fighting the rip-offs has become a way of life. Take a vacation, come home and fight for weeks. And that’s where she is right now. Summer is over but the rip-off memory lingers on---and on and on and on.

Of all the rip-offs the car rental industry seems to top the list. There’s a wonderful website entitled “Rip-off Report” where we can take a peek at things to avoid. I spent the better part of a day researching various websites in preparation for this posting and it was frustrating and very sad. People work so hard then spend that hard earned money on vacations that sometimes simply don’t materialize. Sometimes the rip-offs occur when the tourist gets to the airport only to discover the vacation they booked doesn’t exist and the scam includes airfare. Sometimes the rip-off occurs when the person reaches their destination only to discover that the beautiful resort they booked with a view of the beach is a rundown bug infested room near a dirty creek.

We are at the mercy of razzle dazzle websites when we book trips and there are still unscrupulous agents should we desire to have our trip planned for us. Whatever, the price we pay has no bearing on whether or not we are getting ripped off. However, we are somewhat safer if we stick to high end plans---but not always.

My daughter arrived in Maui (exhausted) and took the car rental shuttle to the agency she booked weeks before her vacation. She paid for the entire vacation up front. She arrived at the rental counter expecting to pick up her key and head to her condo so that she could run to the beach! There was a long line. Of course every person in the line was tired and crabby and many had very tired and crabby kids. My daughter just focused on the beach. It would all go away in a few minutes and she would be on the beach. The beach, the beach, the beach . . .

As she stood in line she heard each crabby customer complain that they just wanted their key and their car. But the counter rep pushed insurance with each guest. In fact, it appeared to my daughter that the agency rep was deliberately holding up the line to force people to purchase rental car insurance before she would allow them to leave. No one took the insurance. When my daughter arrived at the counter the same counter rep started pushing the insurance. My daughter is not one to push so an argument developed. My daughter explained the facts of life to the rep and was soon on her way a lot faster than other frustrated customers.

The counter rep was rude, frazzled, unprofessional, and over her head. When my daughter took the car back after her three glorious weeks she checked in and was told she was “paid in full.” She left with the happy glow of a wonderful vacation tucked in her pocket.

Shortly after returning home she received a charge on her credit card statement for $624.76 from the rental car agency. Yep, it was for the car rental insurance that she and everyone in line declined that beautiful day in paradise. Every day since the statement came she has been on the phone with the rental agency. She has had countless dropped calls, nasty employees, transfers to other nasty employees, and ultimately zero help whatsoever. She then went to her credit card company and they are examining the complaint via their tiresome system and have offered some support as she debates the issue. They have not agreed to remove the charge however but rather are battling with the rental agency as she is. She also complained to the website where she booked her entire vacation and they are offering “some” assistance. Basically, however, it’s all her battle. And it’s been several weeks so far. She eventually had to make a payment just to keep her credit from tanking.

Most personal car insurers cover car rentals. Prior to my daughter’s vacation she checked to make sure her coverage does that and it does. Some of the car rental complaints stem from damage to the car. The tourist isn’t informed there’s damage when they return the car but they receive a charge on their credit card after they return home and later learn it’s to repair the car they damaged. Though they did not damage the car it’s hard to dispute. Some sites recommend photographing every square inch of the car when pulling into the parking area of the agency with a newspaper showing the date you returned it and that it was undamaged. One young man booked a certain car and when he got to the agency to pick up his rental was told the car he reserved was not available and they bumped him up to a fancy car. He complained but they assured him he would not be charged for the upgrade. Very funny. It took him a year to fight the charge and he only received a partial refund.

There’s a special place in hell reserved for senior citizen rip offs. There are people who rip off seniors in countless ways of course. I’m constantly warning my mom. At her house yesterday she had an “official” document with giant “property tax” info stamped all over it. She was panic stricken that there was a problem with her taxes. It was a scam. I pay all her bills so she wouldn’t have paid anything even if she tried but not all seniors are that lucky. Seniors are routinely ripped off on vacations.

I could go on. And this could turn into a multi-part blog just on the topic of rental car insurance rip offs. Like how the counter reps are compensated for all the insurance they push successfully. However, consumers must not give in and accept the nasty charges. Report them everywhere possible. Write to the CEOs of the companies, tell friends, put it in all posts online, tell everyone everywhere. When standing in line at a rental car agency the next time tell everyone in line, loudly, and wear a sign on your chest so that the counter agent sees you are not interested in insurance. (That last one may be over the top.)

So my daughter is still fighting the battle and has now started a writing campaign via certified mail and of course is telling all her friends. I have deliberately not used the name of the agency at this point in the event they do right by her. We are giving them 10 days from the receipt of her detailed letter sent to the CEO. If they do not reverse the charge I will post it everywhere I can. For now, if you are interested in knowing which agency it is (it doesn’t matter because I found complaints for all of them) I will share it with you via an email to me at sharonstrawhandgarner@yahoo.com and you MIGHT avoid a similar fate. But I doubt it.

Consumers must fight every fraudulent practice and if they are not able to fight it for themselves, they must find someone to do it for them. Don’t let these companies get away with it.

[Update: As of this writing, the final word from the Maui office is: no refund. The fight continues. We haven’t heard from the CEO yet.]

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Help! I have a pain in my technology!

2011-09-23T08:49:00.000-07:00

Oh, the agony and the pain. Nothing upsets us more than change. How many still long for their good ole’ horse and buggy. How about those old wringer washers? THOSE were the good old days. And over the last couple of days, it’s happened again. Much more widespread than the automobile replacing the trusted horse---and with lightning speed. In just a few short hours Facebook made significant changes and all the “friends” are in a frenzy. It was the lead story on the evening news. THE LEAD STORY.

I don’t particularly care one way or the other. I’ve been around long enough to have experienced mind boggling changes the likes of which my grandmother who lived to 91 wouldn’t believe if she were alive today. I can barely believe some of the changes and I’m actually living through them. Again, I don’t care. The reason? Changes, i.e., learning new things, keeps us sharp.

I remember years ago in my last office we switched from an ancient traditional phone system to something more involved (and evolved) and designed to actually be more efficient. In my memory it was the most significant change I ever experienced in an office and that new phone system was installed in the early ‘90s. It’s an antique now. Sort of funny as I think back on it. It almost ruined the staff. It was so upsetting (and so hated) that I developed a system for training everyone. I made up a series of daily “tips.” My logic was simple. It was way too hard to learn the entire system all at once, even though I did, but I figured one or two tips per day wouldn’t kill anyone. I was marginally successful with the tips and we eventually all adjusted to the new phone. Out with the damn little pink messages, in with voicemail! It was heaven for those of us writing those little pink messages.

Facebook is fun. I peek at it from time to time, I post a few pictures, and I read what my friends are doing and check where they are in the world and what’s going on in their lives. I’ve “found” so many old friends and it’s wonderful to see their names and faces each morning as I sip coffee. It’s a great tool made possible by incredible technology which we never knew would exist just a few short years ago. And here we are loving it and using it and some of us are quite expert at utilizing all its features. Until yesterday. [I wrote this on the Big Day of Change(s).] And I understand more changes are coming our way. One of the reasons the changes were designed is to remain competitive in the faster-than-the-speed-of-light changes taking place all over the world 24 hours a day in technology.

Google has introduced its version of Facebook and I’ve signed up to check it out and it’s quite nice. I haven’t explored it fully but I don’t see anything I don’t like. It’s the same with Facebook. I’ve often thought I’d like to see things work differently here and there but for the most part it was easy for all levels of computer savvy types to use it for fun. It isn’t rocket science. All they’ve done is try to make it more fun for us. I’m sure if it doesn’t work out they will change it. I’m positive they will change it. I’m positive changes occur in technology minute by minute and we only see the tip of the iceberg. Sometimes I think about what’s going on in the world and it’s dizzying. But at my humble level it’s just fun. So far.

At the grocery store today a woman in line held us all up because she wrote a check. Not only did she write the check but she wrote slowly and then spent more time than I could possibly imagine filling out her check record. [A check is a small rectangular piece of paper that when written on and presented to one’s bank permits funds to be transferred from the payer to the payee. At one time it was considered high tech. We didn’t use cash---we used a check.] When the clerk handed her the receipt she informed check lady that if she filled out a little survey online (pointing to the website address on the receipt) she would be entered into a contest to win $1000 just for filling out the survey regarding customer service. The woman looked at the receipt and said, “I don’t have an online.” Her words exactly. She smiled and walked away and I finished my transaction and I passed her in the parking lot and loaded my car. As I pulled away she had just reached her car and was unlocking it, manually. Oh, she was NOT a senior citizen. I was the senior of the two of us, by many years.

I admit I’m not thrilled with the new Facebook changes at the moment. I was comfortable flipping here and there and checking all my familiar places but I know that in a few weeks or less I’ll be right back where I was. If not there are many other competitive “books” I could try and they will be more than happy to find all my friends for me and send invitations. Many people belong to many social networking sites. I use Twitter every day too. I’ve been on it a very long time. Long before we heard about tweets on the evening news. It’s very easy to use and was easy to set up.

I no longer play CDs on my stereo, I plug in my iPod. I got rid of my land line and I use my cell phone, a “smart phone” style, exclusively. There are so many smart phones you need a degree from M.I.T. to select the right one. In a very short time only smart phones will be available and the regular cell phones will go the way of the dinosaur. People will moan and groan when they have to give up their regular cells. I remember the groaning when we went from analog to digital. I have a satellite dish on my roof that I operate with such a wonderful remote that when I use my old remote in my spare bedroom it seems like something out of a Dickens story. I remember the days when I had to help everyone program their VCR players. Does ANYONE own a VCR player? I have one somewhere. Wonder if I’d remember how it works???

I’m in the mode. I’m into the tech world and all its changes. And when I obtain a new technology I take the time to learn it because I know it won’t wait for me. If I don’t like it I go elsewhere. I have to learn new things all the time. Now more than ever. A 66-year-old brain needs the stimulation and frustration new technology provides.

Yikes. This is more stressful than I thought. I think I’ll email my doctor. He’ll email a prescription to the pharmacy and they will mail it to me. They have my payment information on file. But first I’d better check my balance on my bank’s website. If I don’t have enough to cover a prescription for my nerves I can transfer some from savings online. There I think I’ve got it covered. And it only took a couple of minutes and I didn’t use the car.

I’m not going back. We can’t go back. It’s not going to stop. We have to suck it up and hang on for the ride. We can still complain to the creators of whatever technology is bugging us but don’t expect too much sympathy. By the time they read our complaints they have already designed the new changes for next year and the year after that. Those changes are lined up on a runway and are ready to take off. Bring it on.

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

I Gotta Keep On Moving!

2011-09-18T08:27:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: I have closed my Yahoo website and I’m moving that content to this site. Look to the right of this note and find “Home” and “Fun page.” I’ve just added “Favorite Links” and an “Afghans” link. Click on the buttons from time to time for additional information and updates. New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

No, I’m not going to write about Bob Marley (though I’d love to and just might one day). While listening to his music this morning that song title inspired me to write about---movement for seniors. Not quite as significant as his song but super important just the same. It’s so much more than daily exercise. It’s a way of life. It’s how we set a style of living. We gotta keep on moving. All day, every day. Like it or hate it we MUST move. And often.

Years ago some exercise gurus suggested brisk walking for twenty or thirty minutes three days a week. That hardly seemed worth the effort of getting out of bed. Over time most experts decided that in addition to a daily exercise routine we must increase our activity throughout the entire day. Theoretically we could do our hour at the gym then crawl back in bed until the next morning. Not a good plan. It would probably be better to be active all day and skip the gym than to go through the day like a slug and break a sweat for an hour at the gym.

It’s hard for office workers to get the type of activity we need and during my work years I was glued to a desk. My fingers got lots of exercise but that was it. Oh, maybe my brain (on a good day). I walked a bit here and there and on breaks and took occasional exercise classes and joined gyms but none of it worked well for me. Work took up almost all my waking hours and the remainder of my life was spent with kids then preparing to go to work. I was active but not in the way exercise experts would approve of. And managing a family and work was stressful and tiring. Friends that went to gyms were gone from home for many more hours a day than I was by the time they factored in commuting and the gym and the grocery store and . . . well, I was never successful at that and gave it up.

Now that I’m retired I am more active than I have ever been because I can be. I have the time. That’s the deadly secret. It takes time to be healthy. I’ve added yoga to my life which takes an hour and a half each day, I walk two dogs which takes an hour (though it isn’t aerobic because of all the sniffing and digestive stops), and I walk most days without the dogs at a brisk pace once I bring them back home. That would seem sufficient but I started reading more about being active all day and decided to try developing a more active way of going through my routine. The true key to a more efficient metabolism is consistent vigorous movement throughout the day. It sounds hard but I have found a way to add more movement and it isn’t hard at all. I wish I had thought of this when I worked and raised the kids. I know I would have felt a lot better.

First, even though I’m retired I still spend a great deal of time at my desk. Not quite at the level I did when I worked in an office but I manage my bookkeeping and my mom’s bookkeeping on my computer, I have published three novels and I’m working on the next series (talk about sitting at a desk all day---and night), I write my weekly blog, I visit with friends via email and social networking, I continually work on my photo projects for the family, and other computer things too boring to mention. I am a bit addicted to my computer. So over the last few weeks I’ve started getting up frequently and I do a sort of jog-in-place with arm movements. Just for a few minutes or even seconds but often. Sometimes I stretch for about five minutes along with the jog.

Next, as I go through my day I have developed a strange walk and concentrate on aerobic breathing. It’s somewhere between a light jog and a power walk. I don’t just walk to the kitchen to get a coffee refill, I do a little march/walk/jog step and I pump my arms. Seems silly? Well, maybe it is per walk but added up throughout the day it is quite a bit of extra movement, movement I had not incorporated into my life until recently.

I discovered that like with most things we add to our daily routine it took some time to develop the habit of moving with purpose. Sometimes I would walk outside to get the mail and realize I didn’t utilize my new mini power walking routine. But now that I’ve been at it a while it’s become a habit. Basically, whenever I’m on my feet I put intensity into my pathway. Even the simplest trip is now a small workout. And when I do leave my desk in addition to the new higher activity level I also do a few things around the house or yard. If the weather is nice I’ll spend just a few minutes pulling weeds. Along the way I’m putting laundry away or emptying the dishwasher or a myriad of other tasks but only a little at time and with purposeful movement.

I think that’s the key. Movement with purpose. I’ve only been experimenting with this new activity level but already I’ve noticed a tremendous improvement in my overall wellbeing. My customary periods of fatigue in the late part of the day have all but disappeared. In fact, when I feel that 3 p.m. wall that seems to hit so many of us I now find that if I get up and go outside and move around (energetically) it completely disappears. Better than coffee or an energy drink.

As I sat here typing the first part of this post I remembered I left my cell phone in the kitchen and without hesitation I hopped up and did my weird jog with the exaggerated arm movements and realized that I do that all the time now. My son was visiting for the weekend and once or twice I started to move that way when it occurred to me he might think I’m losing my mind. I know my dogs think I’m strange. They stare at me when I race around the house and I’m sure they wonder. I minimize the movement slightly when I walk to the mailbox but I still do the little march/jog. I keep the arms in a more normal walking position to avoid frightening the neighbors.

It doesn’t matter what we do but we should move about more throughout the day and when no one is around we can be as goofy as we want. It’s good for us in countless ways. Especially the goofy part.

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Cosmetic Surgery?

2011-09-12T08:39:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: I have closed my Yahoo website and will be adding all that content to this site. Look to the right of this note and find “Home” and “Fun page” and click on them from time to time for additional information! New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

The question: Do we age naturally and let it all go or do we ease our aging with cosmetic surgery? That’s a tough question because some of us do not age slowly with little changes here and there. Some of us hit it head on with results that look exactly like that---like we’ve been hit head on. The genes we have are the genes we get. Take a peek at older family members and be prepared to be horrified.

I broke my ankle a few years ago and it was taken care of following routine procedures. On follow up visits my doctor explained I might want a minor corrective surgery to fix a displacement issue that might cause limping. The pain of the ankle and recovery was so intense I couldn’t bear the thought of surgery and going through all that recovery. I was working full time then and was so happy to be back to normal. If I limped then I didn’t notice. I limp now however at certain times of the day. I am not considering surgery at this late date to correct the limp. My gate isn’t terribly weird looking but if I looked like the hunch back of Notre Dame perhaps I would request the corrective surgery. It’s all about degrees and what we can accept about ourselves.

My hair is gray now but it’s not a pretty white silvery gray. It’s mousy brown gray. It sticks up all over the place and resembles hair that grows in another region of the body. Coarse, weird, mousy brown hair. Oh, and a bizarre “curl” but it really doesn’t qualify as curls. I have (or had) straight hair so where did this “curl” come from? Judging from my inspection of relatives on my dad’s side of the family, whom I favor, it will stay that way. I’ve always been blond and I may go back to the coloring routine. Not only will the mousy brown be gone but coloring the hair also changes the texture of the hair. With blond it usually de-frizzes it. I’m holding off for a few months.

It’s not vanity entirely. It’s also difficulty dealing with the weird hair follicles that stick up and my stylist hates the texture so her cuts have been less than stylish. She now favors a little boy cut. It’s cute but I have NO hair.

I plaster it all down with goo in the mornings but by noon it starts sticking up again. She has adjusted the cut to enhance the strands so that it looks like it’s supposed to do that. I suppose I could just shampoo and head out the door and not give a damn. But I do give a damn.

My eyelids droop after noon. Countless people ask me if I’m “okay,” or “Oh, is something wrong,” etc. Even my family says “Hey, what’s wrong? Have you been crying?” By early evening I look like I’ve attended a funeral. My friend’s husband had the same problem and he wasn’t even 50 and I’m 66. He still worked full time and felt his staff was thinking he was too tired, i.e. old, for the job. He also experienced discomfort and my lids have gotten so bad that I have to adjust my head to accommodate the droop when reading or cutting vegetables. That’s just dangerous. There’s a simple cosmetic procedure for it with subsequent pain and an ugly healing period but he looks his age now and feels so much better when reading and working.

Some of my friends with giant breasts now have genuine pain and discomfort as those things bounce around their knees. A few have had “lifts” and feel a thousand times better. Two friends had breast reduction surgery because they hated how people looked at them and no bra in the world concealed their mammoth size. Once they had the surgery they looked and felt great and one runs marathons now which she never could have with those things beating her up as she ran. She has permanent indentations on her shoulders from industrial strength bras.

I lost my teeth in a car accident and have a full denture on the top of my mouth. I suppose I could have done without but to what end? Would I ever get a job? A husband? A friend? Wouldn’t people wonder why I didn’t have teeth? Would I wear a sign saying “I lost my teeth in a car accident not from poor dental hygiene”? Interestingly, my insurance did not cover the denture because it’s considered cosmetic. Really? Teeth aren’t necessary for eating? I guess not.

To what extent can we accept ourselves with our without assistance from the drug store or the cosmetic surgeon? Do we have procedures done only when we feel discomfort? If so, some insurance companies will pay for that type of corrective surgery. My friend with the eye lift and friends with the breast lifts were happy to have had good news from their insurance companies.

What about the pain in our ego? Some egos are so fragile they can’t manage aging without procedures. Others don’t care. I am in the middle somewhere. I don’t care that I look older but I don’t like that people thinking I’m crying in the afternoons. I don’t think I could go shopping or out to lunch without my teeth. My breasts are small but even so have headed south so I’m wearing sports bras but years ago I was very thin and wore bras with inserts so that my clothes would look right. It’s impossible for a thin person with no breasts to buy a swimsuit.

As in all areas of life going to extremes in anything (alcohol, medications, inappropriate clothing as we age, hair color [red at 90?], cosmetic surgery) is a dilemma. A little nip and tuck if it makes the person feel better or corrects a discomfort is not bad. No worse than using foundation makeup, mascara, lipstick, wrinkle cream, hair gel, hair spray, hair color, wigs (my mom has a huge bald spot), support underwear, loose clothing, sensible shoes, nail polish, and the list goes on.

A person working in a corporate position in the golden years must wear a uniform of sorts. Proper clothing for a high level position is necessary for men and women of any age. We all have our values for aging. I don’t mind getting old and looking my age but I don’t want to look older or like some kind of witch from a Disney movie. When children start running and screaming when they come near me I will head to the surgeon that very day. Until then, just a little makeup and hair color and a support bra will take care of me. For now. I’m going to hold off on a face “do over” for a bit longer but I haven’t ruled it out. At the first encounter with a terror stricken screaming child as I walk down the street I’m taking out an equity loan.

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Bad Parenting

2011-09-03T08:19:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: Look to the right of this note and find “Home” and “Fun page.” Click on them from time to time for additional information! New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on small black arrows for a drop down list.]

Since time began we have heard stories about horrible parents. In modern times TV brings it to us on a daily basis. And those are just the parents that are caught. The parents I’m referring to are so neglectful or downright evil that their children end up dead. It is far beyond the term “bad parenting.”

Earlier in the week I read about two adult siblings who sued their mom for “bad parenting.” Their father, an attorney, represented them in court. They had an upscale upbringing in a beautiful Chicago suburb. Their claimed damages were (and I quote from the news article): “Cards they didn’t like, checks not in the correct amount, and gift bags they didn’t like.” Apparently there were other similar slights. The daughter was “forced” to be home at midnight after a homecoming dance, etc. Basically, they felt their mother was a cold person and their father, divorced from the mother, was all too eager to sue his former wife on their behalf. Based on the offenses these poor suffering children experienced I could soon find myself in prison.

First, our court systems are so overburdened with horrific crimes and civil suits over outrageous corporate shenanigans I’m completely stunned this case saw the light of day. One must wonder what the judge thought when this case appeared before him/her. Disgust I hope. I also hope there was a judicial scolding for all parties.

Second, these people walk amongst us and I’m terrified. People with the mentality of these “children” are truly the ones ruining our society, not some poor undocumented worker slipping over a fence south of the border.

Finally, I blame it all on TV.

So my parenting “skills” were far more egregious than the aforementioned Chicago mother. For one, I ruled with an iron hand but I didn’t have many rules. I was often criticized because I gave my kids so much freedom. My kids were pretty much allowed all the room they needed to screw up and they did. I did have a few rules and if they were broken I became a screaming banshee.

Once my son, aged six, decided to play at a neighbor’s house without telling me. He had been in the house watching TV and then he was gone. I did the usual searching and went outside and started hyperventilating. I knocked on that particular neighbor’s door but no one was home. I thought. I had spent about ten horrific minutes and was about ready to call 9-1-1 when my little towhead moseyed on down the street. I saw him, he saw me, and the race was on.

Nothing is more slippery than a terrified six-year-old. I could not catch him. He ran into the house and into his room and slammed the door. I stood on my porch and did deep breathing. During this exercise I remembered my three-year-old was inside sleeping (I hoped) so I went inside and sure enough she was sound asleep. I stood there wondering what I was going to do then decided I needed to know where he was NOW and what he was doing. When I opened his door he was standing on his bed with his back pressed against the wall. His skin was white and I think his hair was standing on end.

To make this long story short(er), he had indeed gone to see if the kids were home at the neighbor’s house. They were and they were all in the back playing and the mom was gardening. No one heard me ring the bell or knock on the door. The first words out of his mouth were “I forgot tell to tell you I was going to play.”

To this day that’s all I remember about the event except I can still see his terrified face as he stood on the bed. One would think that I was a child beater and that he received beatings with a two by four on a regular basis. Nothing could be further from the truth but I think I scared him to death with my mere presence and appearance. Though he was white as a sheet and cold and clammy with fear I believe I trumped him. My eyes hurt from bulging them out with fear, my skin hurt from extreme tension, I had chest pains, and I was wearing my nightgown as I charged through the neighborhood. Did I mention this was early in the morning?

Once in the middle of the night I heard a noise in the kitchen. I thought one of the cats had found something so I ran down the hall toward the back of the house. As I approached the entry to the family room and kitchen I noticed an orange glow. I immediately thought a fire had started but when I rounded the corner I found my daughter standing on a chair looking down at the stove. All the burners were on. I had the presence of mind to not scream as I looked at her long blond hair and instead made a small noise and calmly said “oh, you shouldn’t be doing that” and she smiled and backed away and got off the chair. I continued toward the stove and turned it off and took all the knobs and threw them in the trash can in the garage. For the remainder of our time in that house we had to turn the stove on with a pair of pliers. The stove was old and over the years manufacturers have made stoves more difficult for children to “play” with. I think I know why. Again, I don’t recall what happened after that discovery except I think I had that “scary mother” appearance and I remember she ran to her bedroom as fast as her little legs could take her.

Once she was gone I do remember I threw up and coughed and choked and cried and ended up in the bathroom for two hours.

Spanking was still in favor when my kids were little and they did get the occasional spanking. The two events above were not spanking events because I think I might have not been able to control myself so instead I just internalized all the anguish and let it go through my digestive system.

There were other events over the years but eventually I learned the secret to discipline and it was better than spanking: removing privileges for offenses. Screw up, no TV, can’t go to party, can’t go to dance, can't use car, must stay in room for ten years and so forth.

When they started driving I only had one car and we all shared it. I used it for work and they fought over it the minute I got home. However, terrified of poor teen driving I forced them to drive with me when they obtained their learner’s permit every single day for two hours when I got home from work. In the rain, on the freeway, all over town, and so forth. Not only did I insist on daily intense driving I paid for expensive lessons. In those days it wasn’t required. Also back then they were allowed to have friends in the car when they became licensed drivers so I had digestive fear every time they left the house. I did do one rather naughty parenting thing. I lied and told them that we had limited insurance and that if they even got one ticket for any offense we would lose our insurance and would all have to take the bus everywhere we went.

After my daughter had been driving a few months she told me I needed to get different insurance because none of her friends had such strict insurance about tickets. I was ready. I immediately responded, “Well, your friends must be rich because this is all I can afford.” She bought it. They are now 38 and 35 and neither has ever gotten a ticket or into an accident. I wonder if they have ever questioned their insurance carriers about what would happen if they do get a ticket.

As parents we all make colossal parenting mistakes. I’m not talking about the monsters in the first paragraph. Just us ordinary moms and dads who screw up during the 18 odd years of parenting (and beyond) and if all of our kids grow up and sue us I think we may finally develop birth control that works.

I hope they don’t read this. I don’t want the process server knocking on my door.

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

BOOKKEEPING FOR TWO

2011-08-29T17:48:00.000-07:00

I’m late with my posting this week because I’ve added something new to my life. I’m now bookkeeping for two. My mom is no longer comfortable managing her accounts so I have taken them over. The task of setting it up was time consuming and a bit of a puzzle---hence the late posting.

Fortunately, since I live an hour away from mom, I can manage her bookkeeping from home now and no longer have to make an emergency trip north. I visit her once or twice a week but of course that doesn’t always coincide with her financial needs. Now I can help her out and I’m simply a phone call away.

It’s easier to help seniors in our families today with online banking. In fact, with online anything. We don’t bank at the same bank but I set her up with online banking through her own bank. I have access to her email and bank account passwords and everything I need to keep her going. Lately she’s had a number of confusions over payments and/or the lack thereof!

During the set-up period we had extra visits and quite a few phone calls. I decided to begin all of her banking record-keeping from January 2011 forward and used my money management software to begin. It’s all done now and Wednesday we pay her bills for the first time on my shift. I set up a few auto payments but some she prefers to pay at a time she designates. I know what they are and will await direction but if she doesn’t let me know I can give her a call before it’s late.

At first she was a little reluctant to let go of such an important task but lately she’s forgotten to tend to it in the way she had been and she seemed relieved that I was willing to take it over. The same process occurred when I set up her online medication auto processing. No more last minute dashes to the pharmacy. It all comes to her directly now based on the computer’s estimation of her needs and an email is sent which I read.

Mom was set up on the computer and used it for quite a while but she has forgotten how to get on and off and she doesn’t use it anymore. It was a great tool that she enjoyed and she was able to order things she needed online since she isn’t able to drive or shop anymore. But as things change we adjust and move forward. We don’t look back.

Mom’s memory has gotten to the point that without online banking she might have experienced unpleasant “issues” and this has been a tremendous relief---for me. She is relieved, of course, but not nearly as much as I am. I was terrified she would miss an important payment of some kind and have her utilities cut off or receive a nursing home eviction for my dad.

But all of this isn’t without its emotional toll either. It seems every few weeks now changes occur that knock me off my feet. I’ve invited her to come and live with me and my sister and brother-in-law helped me try to convince her but she won’t budge. Short of a court order she’s staying put. I don’t blame her but of course we all worry about her.

I set her up with one of those home medical alert systems. She wears a little button around her neck and seems to understand its use. I’ve explained it’s for all emergencies, not just medical, and she seems to understand that she must press the button for ANY emergency. The company I selected was fantastic and I loved their customer service.

My dad is in a nursing home and has been for many years, my aunt passed away a few weeks ago, and changes are occurring with my mom faster than I’m willing to accept. One day at a time.

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Saying good-bye

2011-08-20T05:42:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: I have closed my Yahoo website and will be adding that content to this site---slowly but surely. Look to the right of this note and find “Home” and “Fun page” and click on them from time to time for additional information! New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

As we age we experience many transitions. Family and friends pass away and we grieve. The older we get the more we lose, especially if we are fortunate enough to have a lot of family and friends. At some point long ago I came to grips with human mortality and accepted our brief stay on the earth. I also know that even the earth will not live forever and one day our sun will die and that will be the end of our beautiful blue marble.

It’s easier to accept these passings if we understand it’s all about beginnings and endings and we all end---one way or the other. It’s how we get to the end that’s important. Between the beginning and ending we should strive to live well and do our best in all that we do. When tough times come along we must fight through them. When good times come along we should bask in our good fortune. But when we lose people we love or even people of celebrity status that we admire (and our pets), mourning is the way we move on and we must not cheat ourselves of a proper period of sadness. That’s how we heal.

This past couple of weeks my family lost a dear member of the clan. My aunt passed away 10 days shy of her 90^th birthday. She simply passed in her sleep. Many of us in the family have lived around the world and didn’t always keep in touch and didn’t see each other as often as we would have liked but that’s part of the human experience. We like to roam around. And while roaming we build our own core families and keep on moving and building and living. As we go about our lives we keep in touch via family members and friends and remain connected even if we don’t see each other very often.

At her service the other day we met up with my aunt’s side of the family (she married my mom’s brother). I recognized them instantly and felt that old familiar kinship that families share regardless of the passage of time. It was tremendously special to see all of these people and I have to say I was a little overwhelmed with emotion throughout the day. That night it was hard to fall asleep.

When I was growing up as an “only” child, my aunt and uncle were very important to me. My uncle played with me and introduced me to music and TV. He had stereos and TVs long before anyone else I knew had them and if he were alive today he would be a technology geek and possibly even the developer of something amazing. Probably something to do with music. He had an enormous music collection. My aunt talked to me as though I had a brain and even trained me to work in her office while she was on vacation once. I felt so grown up and I knew her trust was high so I made sure I did everything perfectly. She left meticulous notes on my duties and I passed with flying colors. They never had children so perhaps that’s why they connected with me.

My family has always been small and scattered but I can’t get over the tight connection and bond I feel for them when we meet. I live on the west coast and my dad’s family lives on the east coast and we have only been together a handful of times but it doesn’t matter. I adore them too and feel the connection when we talk on the phone or exchange emails.

It’s easier to accept loss of a loved one if they have reached a ripe old age. I knew my aunt had a good life, a life not without strife but full of ups and downs like all of us. She was strong and tough perhaps because both my aunt and uncle were Marines in WWII. At the cemetery my aunt was given a lovely and simple presentation by a small color guard of young Marines. Her sister was presented with the American flag that had been draped over my aunt’s casket and off in the distance one of the young men played a beautiful rendition of “Taps.” When they completed their presentation they silently moved away from the family and friends gathered for their final good-byes. It was a tremendous honor bestowed on her by the young Marines and something I will never forget.

Funeral services have evolved. Many are memorial gatherings and some even rise to the level of a party. A place where family and friends gather to visit and talk about adventures and to say good-bye. My aunt’s funeral was more traditional with a simple Catholic service in the funeral home followed by a short drive to the cemetery and a brief graveside service by the priest and Marines. It was light and not gloomy and was filled with happiness about where she had been, and in the Catholic tradition, where she was going. Later the family met for lunch and visiting and catching up. It was tremendously special.

Almost 90 with a funeral service performed by a gentle, soft-voiced priest who prayed for her soul (and ours) and expressed words of kindness throughout the day to ease the family into moving on, then a moving Marine Corps tribute. She would have loved that and I’m at peace until the next passing. That’s how it is.

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Can you spare a little change?

2011-08-13T07:53:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: Look to the right of this note and find “Home” and “Fun Page” and click on them from time to time for additional content!]

[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

I’ve been thinking about Somalia a lot lately. My first thought was donating anything from my small budget to that huge relief effort would be like spitting in the ocean. But then I remembered my history of giving and had a change of heart.

Quite a few years ago I began donating small amounts of money to a few charities. My employer had a system in place for employee donations and I participated in a small way to be part of the group, but my primary giving was done at home.

I didn’t always have much left over. I raised two kids alone and later when they went to college we had challenging financial “issues.” Still, whenever I could I coughed up a few dollars for certain charities---very few dollars sometimes.

Over the years when the kids finished college and began their careers it was easier for me to give a bit more and I took the time to research various charitable organizations online. Or sometimes I’d hear of a family whose home burned in a fire and the news would provide the name of the fund set up for donations. New issues always pop up or a new crisis appears in the world via war, or natural disaster, or sometimes something sinister occurs and there are victims in need of emergency assistance.

I don’t have a religious affiliation but many have a variety of service programs available and from time to time I donate to a certain church in my town that provides meals and services for the homeless folks in our city. Most churches would be delighted to accept a donation from a non-member. My donations have never been refused nor has my religious belief system (or lack thereof) ever been called into question.

Because I donate fairly regularly to a variety of organizations I now have a mailbox full of envelopes begging for help along with “gifts” supplied to encourage me to donate again or to become a regular contributor. (I wish they wouldn’t spend the effort on sending me a gift.) My email is also full of requests for donations. Some are for monthly amounts to sustain a particular program. I can’t make that commitment so I haven’t done that. For those who can it can make a tremendous difference in many lives.

So recently my attention has been drawn to Somalia. I dug around and found many trustworthy sites online where donations can be safely made. We are lucky we have the resources provided by the Internet to investigate whether or not an organization is real or where the money is actually going.

When visiting one important site that I’ve given money to before I learned it’s crucial to carefully read their material to learn if we are donating directly to the current area of need or if we are donating “generally” to their overall operation. Of course, it’s important for charities to have operating expenses but if there’s a current serious need I prefer donating directly to that effort. We can even use our cell phones to donate! (Carefully after doing the research first.)

The point is, whether we donate to help with a crisis, or whether it’s to support an organization that devotes resources to cure a disease or alleviate hunger or provide housing or clothing or medical care, we must donate. Even a small amount is appreciated by charities. In my case, I’m retired and I live modestly. But I have adequate housing, clothing, food, a pension, pets, several tech gadgets I love, a cute little car, a small garden, and lots of fun things to provide me with a comfortable life. Even though I’m no longer working and I rely on my pension I find I can still spare a few dollars here and there. I just skip fancy coffee at the popular coffee shop down the street. I still have a cup from time to time but I save a lot of money by only going as an occasional treat and put the money to good use elsewhere.

Not only do I donate small amounts here and there I have always encouraged my kids to give what they can. Sometimes we get a surprise amount of money (I received an escrow overage check recently) or a larger than anticipated birthday check or a lucky day at the slot machines and when we are the fortunate beneficiaries of extra money, it’s a good thing to remember those less fortunate. An unanticipated windfall is easier to share with a charity because it doesn’t stretch the budget. But don’t give it away if needed. Charity begins at home. Once home and hearth are taken care of, and if there’s a reasonable amount left, that’s the time to give.

It’s true there are more charities in the world than we can possibly help but that isn’t how it works. Each individual should simply give a little here and there according to their resources. Even dropping a few coins in a kettle outside the mall at Christmas time helps. If trust is the issue, there’s no problem anymore because research is a click away.

Our country is suffering. When our country suffers the rest of the world suffers too. We are so important to the world economy that when we fall so does everyone else. But for those of us who are still solvent, this is the most important time to share what we can. However little. Charities are hurting because their donors are hurting. People who used to donate are often standing in line for help from the very organization they used to send money to.

When I donate a few dollars I always feel so good. I recently gave an old car to one of our local animal shelters. I loved the car and it served me well for many years. It was still in great shape and someone will get a safe reliable car and the shelter gets a little money for operating expenses. (By way of another animal donation I adopted two dogs from another shelter and a few cats over the years!) I could have sold the car but realized it was a great opportunity for me to give something substantial without “feeling” it in the pocketbook. I did feel it emotionally however. It was a great feeling.

Some believe there are more ethereal awards for giving but I just like the way it feels when I send off a small check that will feed a village for a week. (I’m not kidding. It takes very little to feed an entire village in some parts of the world. Check it out.)

Giving can be habit forming and it doesn’t have to hurt. Just a little can make a huge difference to someone less fortunate. And---there’s always someone less fortunate.

[Note: I deliberately omitted names of specific charities I contribute to because it’s best to find the ones that tug at individual heartstrings.]

“Once I built a railroad, made it run,

Made it race against time.

Once I built a railroad, now it's done.

Brother can you spare a dime?”

1931 by lyricist E.Y. "Yip" Harburg and composer Jay Gorney

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Do You Look Your Age?

2011-08-06T05:51:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: I have closed my Yahoo website and will be incorporating that content into this site. Look to the right of this note and find “Home” and “Fun Page” and click on them from time to time for additional information!]

[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

My mom comes from a great gene pool. She’s 100% Portuguese and has the most beautiful wrinkle-free skin. She’s almost 86. She has a few lines but they can’t be classified as wrinkles. Her hair is still mostly dark brown with streaks of gray. The gray is dark and blends in with her brown. Other members in her family are enjoying similar aging.

I, on the other hand, being only half Portuguese, take after my dad’s side of the family: Irish, Scottish, French, English, and a few other regions, some believed to be Eastern Europe. Though I’m half Portuguese, that half is losing the aging battle. I have wrinkles, gray hair, and one of “those” necks. I won’t describe other areas of my body. I’m 66.

Years ago, before I was 21, I often went out with my mom and she was always asked for her I.D. I was not. I always thought it should be the custom of a restaurant to ask both ladies for their I.D. to avoid offending one of them. When I was 18 my dad died and mom and I decided to get away for a while and went to South Shore Lake Tahoe and she was asked for her I.D. as we entered casinos and I was not. She was 38.

For many years she was asked for her I.D., well into her 40s. I realize that’s fairly unusual but I don’t remember when the last time was someone asked me. So gene pool aside, I have always tried my best to take care of my skin (pale, transparent white) and hair (mousy brown though it started out beautiful blond) and to try to keep my hair, makeup and clothing within at least the same decade.

For many years I worshipped the sun and learned the sun was unkind to most people but in particular to fair people. So I stopped sunbathing and now when I’m outside I look like I’m headed to Alaska. I bundle up and wear big hats with large brims and bottles of sun screen and long sleeves. I had a few scary things removed from my face and legs and don’t want to revisit that procedure. At night I slather an expensive cream on my face, a different one for the rest of my body, and in the morning after my shower I have day creams with SPF factor. I’m a greased pig.

So back to my original question: do you look your age? I can’t answer that for me because I still look 16 when I look in the mirror. It’s denial but it works. I think I do look my age however because when a younger person needs that information (sometimes we have to give our birthdate) they are never shocked. They simply write it down. I remember whenever my mom had to cough up her birthdate they always exclaimed, “Oh, you’re kidding!” I’ve never heard those words directed at me. I guess all the creams in the world will never bring forth those exclamations from young people collecting data about me. So do I look my age? Or, horrors, do I look older? I don’t know! I truly don’t know.

I’ve spent a lot of time examining family and friends in my general age range and I think we all look alike. Many of us are doing our best with our hair and skin and makeup. Nothing ages a person more than a ‘50s haircut and ‘60s makeup. Even out of style clothing doesn’t scream “old” quite as much as fuddy-duddy hair and makeup. In fact, I have reduced the amount of makeup I wear and changed coloring to match my new skin tone (blah and gray) at the suggestion of a stylist. She was in her 30s but was very knowledgeable about aging accoutrements and makeup and hair.

When my 35-year-old daughter throws her hair in a ponytail and runs to the store without makeup or jewelry and in super casual clothes she can’t buy wine. If I put my hair in a ponytail and run to the store I look like I’ve just come down from the hills to buy things for the family still.

It’s not fair.

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The Debt Ceiling and the Tooth Fairy

2011-07-29T07:44:00.000-07:00

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I find it challenging to reconcile my checkbook so the issue of raising or not raising our country’s debt ceiling is a bit esoteric for me. I do know we are in credit rating chaos which can be horrifically expensive for us as a nation (and very lucrative for our payees). Whichever way our Congressional leaders go we are still going to be in tremendous debt. I’m putting off painting my house because I don’t want to incur debt. But we all know houses don’t improve spontaneously and need maintenance so putting it off isn’t the answer. The answer is to buy better paint and take care of maintaining it by frequent cleanings and spot painting as time goes on. Can we do that for our country?

We don’t have to be financial wizards to know what has happened to our country is the fault of our country’s leaders. That is hard for some to accept until they understand that our country is run by large corporations who have our leaders in their deep pockets and don’t give a crap about our credit rating, our mortgages, our oil dependency, our disappearing resources, our jobs outsourcing to the moon, our education system hitting the bottom of the barrel while top education administrators earn huge salaries and outrageous retirement benefits sufficient to support a small island somewhere in the Pacific, our infrastructures disintegrating into crumbling piles of crap while criminal contractors milk local and state government agencies for huge sums of money then they buy inferior and dangerous materials instead of the expensive materials promised in their bids and pocket the difference, our inability to manage drug lords here and elsewhere at the expense of our citizens, our pathetic and deplorable health care system, our constant devotion to wars we have no business being involved in (wars are very expensive, possibly the most expensive system in the entire world and our biggest government budget item and we know how well our returning veterans are being treated at our disappearing veterans hospitals), and the list is quite long but I’m depressed typing this crap so I’ll move on.

Case in point---when the mortgage fiasco hit our country the banks and mortgage companies were mandated to assist homeowners with modifications and that was a load of crap and scant few got any relief at all. Now we are supposed to believe that the proper way to handle our credit ceiling will make or break us as a nation. Really? WE ARE ALREADY BROKEN. Threatening to not pay 90-year-old seniors living in tenement houses their pitiful little Social Security checks is absolutely criminal behavior and it’s not going to happen anyway. It’s a fear tactic piece of crap fashioned to scare us into hanging on every word of the politicians/corporation CEOs and accepting whatever piece of crap they come up with to shove down our throats so that we will believe the malarkey they push on us.

I know. I’m using the word “crap” too much. Not very professional. Believe me when I say I’m practicing extreme restraint. I have many more words that would fit better but I don’t want to be arrested or kicked off the internet. And I don’t give a crap. I’m sick of being told that this or that must happen to help us “continue” to recover. Recover? Really? Are we recovering? Did I miss that on the evening news? We’ve been recovering?

I’m going to call my credit card companies and ask them to raise my limits by, oh, say, 150%, and then I’m going to go out and spend it all. Then I’ll ask for it to be raised again. Next, I’m going to contact my utilities and tell them that I can no longer pay them, that they are going to be cut in my budget strategy, and that it’s not my fault I had to raise my debt ceiling. Our country’s credit limit has been raised many times prior to this latest hoopla. So what’s good for the country is good for me. That makes perfect sense; right? Of course, I still have a house that wasn’t stolen from me by corrupt millionaire bankers.

Raise the ceiling, lower the ceiling, keep the ceiling as is. It makes absolutely no difference whatsoever to those of us out here in the trenches. We are being screwed every which way we turn. We’re in such a deep hole that a couple generations are going to live and die and not have any relief whatsoever from the mess we are in. They won’t own homes, they will have to skip college for themselves and their kids, they will work at crappy jobs because that’s all that’s going to be available, they won’t buy cars, go on vacations, have Sunday picnics. They will work and slave and---yikes! Sounds like a Dickens novel.

[The Debt Ceiling and The Tooth Fairy are alike because both require pain, a little blood, and all you’ll end up with is pocket change.]

(Debt Ceiling Definition: Since 1917, Congress has agreed on a limit of how much debt the U.S. can owe without risking default, and legislators raise the limit when they feel we need to borrow more money to sustain the economy. The legislature has raised the debt ceiling 74 times in the past 50 years, and about ten times since 2001. At this point, some voters and leaders feel that it doesn’t even make sense to have a debt ceiling, since Congress has the option to raise it virtually any time.)

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Young At Heart

2011-07-24T07:10:00.000-07:00

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I had lunch with a few younger friends recently and we discussed their upcoming retirements. I have been retired for a little over four years and they wanted to know what I did with myself all day. That always cracks me up. The retirement picture for most people is still this: a white haired senior sitting in a rocking chair on her front porch sipping Earl Grey with a cat on her lap. Though there are probably some of those folks around (I don’t know any), most of the ones I know are sipping tea after finishing their 5-mile run and before getting ready to paint their house. I know some “very” senior people who take hiking vacations---with other seniors. Isn’t it time to upgrade the senior image? Yes, but first, start from within.

Keeping the “old” senior stereotype alive damages life for those of us who are not living that way. It makes it harder for us to find work and it lessens our credibility as productive citizens of the world. Our viewpoints aren’t taken seriously. There will always be people older than their chronological years. I know one couple who were “old” in their 50s. They dressed “old,” wore their hair “old,” and behaved “old.” It was a state of mind. Then they developed illnesses and issues associated with what people think old people end up with.

We know how important it is to eat well, stay active (physically and mentally) and most friends in my age group (65 and older) are doing that. Though illness and body issues come along we can forestall many of them. But not without a global appreciation for today’s modern seniors. That includes people who work with seniors and see them as vibrant and productive. We must surround ourselves with people who believe in us.

Remember when our kids were little? Did we say “you can’t do that” or “don't do that because you’ll fail” or “always play it safe, don't take chances”? It’s so good for us to try and fail. As we get older we fail less. By the time we get to this age we’re damn near perfect because of all our “failures.” We can do all sorts of things because we’re at the peak of our intelligence via our experiences.

I have aches and pains. When I hit the floor some days my back sends me a message. “Hey, who do you think you are? You aren’t twenty anymore. Slow down.” I usually reply, “Screw you.” Mind over matter? You bet. Always. And if that doesn’t work, head to the doctor and demand proper treatment and not “act your age” scolding. If my doctor ever tries to convince me I’m too old to put up shelving in my garage I will find a new doctor.

I’ve written about seniors before---a lot. Probably because I am one and I continue to hear negatives about being older and retirement. No. No. No. (Pun intended.) I love this age. All of the ravages of youth are behind me. We know what they were: hormone issues prior to menopause, then menopause (I have a few lingering hot flashes), child-rearing, good and bad spouses, parent problems, employment problems, insurance problems (I love Medicare though it’s lacking), no time to do anything, racing around keeping it all together while working all day, and not speaking my mind for fear of reprisals (now I don't care what I say.)

So now I am away from all the physical and crazy things that zapped a huge portion of my life. As I write this I have music playing in the background, a nice cup of hot coffee sitting by my computer, I’m in my nightgown, and when I’m done here I’m getting dressed and will walk my dogs for an hour. After that I’ll work in the yard a bit then take a bubble bath. After lunch I’ll spend the afternoon editing my latest masterpiece and will check in on Facebook and Twitter and email a few friends and family members. Two or three times each week I meet with friends for lunch or coffee. I drive an hour north once a week and visit mom and help her out a little (she’s 85). I have a stack of books and I also have a few eBooks. I’m new to eBooks and loving it. I’m working on house projects and each day I check out my “to-do” list then tackle a project. I rarely do “nothing.” When quiet I read. I relax in the tub with music playing and do nothing but semi-float. Talk about Zen.

I planned this retirement. It didn’t just spring up out of thin air. I worked hard for it. I went to night school for five years to obtain an A.A. that enabled me to get a promotion at work then I kept at it for many years until I reached 62. (I had hoped to continue with a B.A. but the cost was outrageous.) And then I retired. It was hard going to night school and working and taking care of kids. It was worth every minute because now I’m sitting here in my nightgown and when I press submit after finishing this small post I’m off to the trail with my dogs.

I don't have a porch but I do have a cat. She sits on my lap when I’m writing. I don't drink Earl Grey. I prefer strong freshly ground coffee. So bring it on. Just ask Judith Viorst and Dylan Thomas!

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Ewwww. Food poisoning again!

2011-07-17T13:00:00.000-07:00

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My adult daughter recently came down with a roaring case of food poisoning. It lasted several hours and left her weak and unable to fall asleep. She was busy at work with little time for lunch but that day she grabbed a sandwich at a popular shop near her office to eat at her desk while she worked. Shortly after her meal, a nasty little organism worked its way through her body and by around 7:00 p.m. it attacked her full on. I will not describe the event. We all know what happens when we are victims of food poisoning. The next morning she was fine but worn out and still weak. She took a shower and managed to get to work but I felt terrible for her. I told her to call the shop and complain and I suspect she wouldn’t have been the only call.

In January of 2010 I posted a blog on food poisoning. Not long ago I tried a new restaurant in town with friends. It was fantastic. The food was fresh and well prepared, the décor was authentic, the restaurant was clean, and the service was outstanding. After lunch my friends returned to work and I came home. I didn’t get sick but I often do.

I’m retired now and usually when I eat out I always try to come home after rather than run errands or go to a movie or whatever because I have been the victim of food poisoning so many times I only eat out now with fear and trepidation. And I’m not alone. I know several people who only visit certain restaurants. Yet, there’s still a chance that the food the restaurant purchases is contaminated even if they are a well-run establishment with safety their highest priority. Though their habits may be pristine where they purchase their wholesale foods may have less than sanitary methods.

I once was a participant in a potluck at work. Over half of us came down with food poisoning and some ended up in the emergency room. A friend of mind attends potlucks when necessary but only pretends to eat. She’s become an expert at disposing of her plates full of food in the nearest trash cans out of view of other diners.

Food poisoning, in all its nasty forms, has been around for thousands of years. It is understandable that food would spoil quickly before the days of refrigeration and before people were aware their food needed special care to avoid death, but it seems odd we have so much of it today, in this country in particular. However, indeed we do and it’s increasing.

The problem is the result of mass processing of foods by thousands of companies, which is then handled by hundreds of thousands of employees. Food is mass-produced in enormous quantities and the variety of foods we can purchase is staggering. Not long ago Tylenol recalled thousands of their products which were contaminated with mold. They determined the mold came from shipping pallets made of wood which contained the mold spores that made their way into the packaged and sealed products prior to shipment. Tylenol is not food but we do consume it and trust that medication of all things will be safe. We also import food from other countries. They are required to meet food safety standards before shipping. I have zero faith in that process.

Buying food not processed in any way by another country is very difficult. Though the label may say “packaged in Modesto,” the package itself could be from---dare I say it---China. Much of the beautiful fruit and vegetables we see in our super stores are from Mexico, Central and South America, and other parts of the world. There is some concern that terrorists may be able to hurt us by simply contaminating the foods that are imported for our consumption.

Over the past 20 or so years I have fallen victim to a variety of food poisonings from restaurants and potlucks. I do not recall a time I have ever been sick from food I’ve prepared at home. Sometimes we think we have the flu when in fact we are suffering from some form of food poisoning. If it's food poisoning caused by bacteria or their toxins, then nausea, abdominal pain, diarrhea and vomiting can begin as soon as an hour after consumption.

Stomach flu has similar symptoms. Viruses that afflict the stomach and intestines, viral gastroenteritis, cause the stomach flu. These viruses are spread by the fecal-oral route and can persist on objects like doorknobs or on food surfaces for days. We feel miserable with both and both are hard to avoid. But several TV “doctors” have increasingly blamed illnesses that come on quickly or hours after eating a meal on food and not the flu. When people visit doctors after such an illness takes them by surprise, most often the doctors suspect food poisoning.

Flu patterns are different from food poisoning patterns. In a potluck incident, it’s obvious after just a few questions when visiting a doctor. But I can tell if I’m sick from food poisoning because for me the problem usually develops very soon after eating the suspect food. Eggs seem to bother me when eaten in a restaurant but never at home. I believe it’s the frequency of grill cleaning or lack thereof. It may also be the egg and whatever storage it sat in before sale to a restaurant. I always ordered my eggs scrambled well and still had the problem. I stopped ordering eggs about a year ago. I almost never order meat in restaurants for the same reason. Things that live in water are often a problem. Fortunately, I do not like things that live in the water except to admire them. Quality control of things that live in the water is of the highest importance in a restaurant. Pick those restaurants with caution.

Employee hygiene is often blamed for food poisoning but management stretching their food dollars and keeping food after it’s lost its prime (and not staffing an adequate cleaning schedule) plays heavily into food industry problems. Take a peek at local county websites that list restaurant safety and cleanliness ratings. You may never eat out again.

Over the years I have spent a good amount of time studying food preparation and storage because of that problem. I had a relative who worked for Federal Food & Drug. I was surprised he could eat at all after some of the horrific stories he told us about when inspecting restaurants and stores. Even the famous cooking shows now include explanations on the proper way to prepare food in the kitchen, especially how to handle chicken, and how to clean surfaces and hands to prevent problems.

When I prepare and store food I am OCD careful. I could probably write an entire blog on just my food prep routine. Before I prepare a meal I first make sure my hands and food surfaces are cleaned. The food is then carefully unwrapped over the sink so that any crumbs or drips are not spread over a cutting board or counter top. I do not use the same cutting surface for preparing all my food items. Each food item I prepare gets a new cutting board or a thoroughly cleaned cutting board. Once the food is prepared and consumed, leftovers are placed in the fridge and are tossed if not consumed in a day or two, depending on the leftover. Some can be frozen. After the meal the kitchen is swabbed with cleanser. I also seem to live on an anthill so it’s another reason to keep the area very clean.

Because I have a pristine food prep style I believe it may be a contributing factor as to why I get so sick when I eat out. I don’t purchase many processed foods which cuts down on contamination possibilities. I also don’t eat out a lot so that when I do my stomach, which is used to a super clean food environment, may be too “delicate” to eat in a less than perfect environment.

A year or so ago I took a 6-week class on nutrition and preparation and storage was discussed in almost every class. Almost every person in the class had a food horror story to share. We were all surprised but then we discussed all the ways we get our food and the places our foods come from and how foods are stored and handled and we were amazed we weren’t all dead. We also discussed that most deaths in developing nations are almost entirely caused by lack of clean water and food.

I can’t even imagine what is happening in Haiti now. Many people who survived the earthquake and the following days later died because of food and water contamination. This applies to the rescue workers and medical personnel. At some point in a given day or week they too may ingest something they believe is safe but it may not be. They are arriving with packaged foods but it seems unrealistic that they will be able to have enough available to them when in desperate situations. Eventually they may have to eat or drink something not carefully sealed in a nice clean container. The earthquake will keep on giving for a long time.

Time for lunch!

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My Love Affair

2011-07-09T08:58:00.000-07:00

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I’m in the middle of a glorious love affair. It’s not really an “affair” because neither of us is married. I guess it’s just a wonderful love relationship rather than an affair. I’ve only experienced this type of love three times in my entire life. My first time I was 16. We all remember our first love. It’s funny when I look back on it now because the object of my affection way back then was not like my new love. But I still remember the experience with great joy.

Okay. I can’t do this anymore. I have to tell the truth. It’s a car. Yes, it’s a car. Just a car. But I am truly in love with this little car. When I was 16 I worked in the pear sheds in northern California and saved all my money and bought an adorable 1953 pink and white Ford with blue vinyl interior. I loaded that beauty up with friends and off we’d go on hot summer nights. The radio was blasting, the windows were down, and we cruised the drag for hours and hours. It is one of my favorite youthful memories.

I had a few cars after that one but found a red MGB one day, bought it, and fell in love with a car again. The cars surrounding those two fun cars were functional and got me from point A to point B adequately and reliably but I didn’t love them. The pink Ford and the MGB I loved. I had to sell my MGB because it had serious maintenance issues and expenses and I just couldn’t cope with it anymore. It was old when I bought it and had a few problems but it seemed to develop more and more problems and I couldn’t keep up. I’m not sure what happened to the pink Ford. I purchased it in 1962 and it was a 1953 so perhaps it was also a maintenance issue.

Americans, and in particular Californians, love cars. Unless one lives in a major city it’s hard to get around without a car. Suburban mass transit is usually slow and often difficult to get to. In a large city we can walk out our door, walk a block or so, and find many forms of mass transportation. I lived in San Francisco for many years and never drove my car unless I went out of town on weekends. It’s a lot cheaper to live without a car if living in a city. No car insurance, no repair or maintenance bills, no annual registration, no wildly fluctuating gas prices, and no outrageous parking fees. Taking the bus every day is so much cheaper and bus drivers manage well navigating the busy streets. If we sometimes work late at night we can take a cab home and though that seems expensive it’s not too bad when added to an annual budget where we calculate car expenses versus public transit. We come out way ahead. My son lives in Sacramento and they have an efficient system which he uses every day.

But those of us living outside the major city hubs need our cars. And more than that, we love our cars. It’s fun to drive in less clogged communities. It’s comfortable to run errands or visit friends without the big city congestion. And so we put a lot of time and effort into selecting just the right car for our personalities and lifestyles. Still, even though I’m a suburbanite, I have always been a somewhat conservative car customer. I want cars that are reliable and not too expensive to run. Once I purchase a car I keep it for years and years. A few years ago I donated a 1994 Saturn to the Humane Society of Sonoma County. It was in perfect condition but I had an opportunity to purchase a newer car (Honda Accord) from a friend so I did. It was newer and a definite upscale from the Saturn. A few years after that I traded cars with my daughter. Both cars began to pile on the miles and years but were still in great condition. My son joined the family car trading business and he continues to drive one of the original cars we’ve been swapping.

So last week while sitting at my computer my daughter emailed me to tell me she found my favorite car on display at a dealership next to her office. Even in the color I love. I thought she was merely mentioning it because she knows I love this particular car. We chatted about it and I never once thought about buying it because I had a perfectly good car sitting in my garage even though it was beginning to be a senior citizen---like me. That was on a Monday. On Thursday she bought the car for me and we picked it up. I’m still stunned. So what is this glorious car? It’s a Mini Cooper in mellow yellow with black trim, leather seats (with seat warmers), and power everything. It is, beyond a doubt, the cutest thing on wheels and I am definitely in love with it.

My love affair with the Mini Cooper came, as it did for thousands of others, after watching the fun movie The Italian Affair. Though there are human actors in this film, and very good ones too, it’s the Mini Cooper that steals the movie. It’s sort of like having a cute dog or cat in a movie. Who watches the actors when there’s a funny dog performing alongside? Same with the Mini Cooper. I won’t give the story away but for those who like engaging chase scenes and clever revenge stories, this is the movie to watch. For many years after that movie whenever I saw a Mini Cooper on the highways I always smiled remembering how adorable they were in that film and secretly thought that someday I would have one.

I wasn’t sure it would be practical for me since I have two dogs I transport around a lot, one the size of a small Lab, and I visit my 86-year-old mom and often take her places with her wheelchair but still I had that little seed of hope in the back of my head. You know, sort of like the hope that one day Paul McCartney would stop fooling around with all these silly women and marry me instead.

My daughter likes them too. And she knew how much I’ve loved them. So when she saw my favorite model and color two blocks from her office she knew what she had to do. And she did. I have a very close relationship with my kids because we have been through some tough times together. Single parenting is daunting---and expensive. But our team of three got them both through college and now they have good jobs and she just wanted to do this. Many people have asked if I was surprised but when I think about it, no, I was not. I was thrilled but not surprised. That’s who she is.

I have to go now because I’ve had the car for a week and it’s time to wash it and dry it (there could be hugging and kissing) and polish the chrome. Yes, chrome. It’s the sports package so it has chrome. And racing stripes. And checkered side mirrors. Like I said, I’m having a glorious love affair and do not anticipate a divorce.

Now I’ll have to work on Paul McCartney because apparently dreams really do come true.

www.sharonlee123.alittlehelpformyfriends.blogspot.com/

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

And Crown Thy Good With Brotherhood

2011-07-02T06:39:00.000-07:00

[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

I come from a long line of illegal immigrants. When my family arrived here they acquired land illegally and built their lives. They had many children who took part in all this new land had to offer. Today we are spread out all over this great country and have never received “official” documentation that we are legal citizens of this country.

Shocking? Not really because when my family came to this country they never met any Native Americans and therefore never received permission to reside here. Other European illegal immigrants told my family what to do and where they could get property and gave them documents proving their right to be here, documents not obtained from Native Americans, and off they went.

Native Americans fought vigorously to stop all of the illegal immigrants but they were unsuccessful. Why? Because the desire to escape oppressive governments back in the “old country” was strong and my family was tired of being fearful and starving and afraid all the time so they came here and took what they wanted and lived lives and developed strong healthy families. That’s what immigrants do. Legal or otherwise.

The Native Americans didn’t want them. They knew they had delicate resources, just enough to sustain the many scattered tribes across the land and the encroaching mostly Europeans were soon depleting valuable reserves of buffalo and land required to keep ancient tribes thriving. Some illegal immigrants brought disease and weapons and crime. The Native Americans lost the battle of ownership. Oh, along the way my early relatives picked up a few slaves to manage and enrich the growth of their lives here. But don't worry. They weren’t illegal aliens. They were property.

My family did well. We did indeed cultivate property and families and friendships and lives here. My family still owns the original homestead from before the Revolution which is the purpose of this joyous weekend---we won! All of this was taken from the Native Americans and on the backs of slaves my family owned. Their lives in their native European lands were horrible and they felt they had no choice. They were uneducated and miserable and came here with their pitiful belongings and began lives. They denied themselves the knowledge that they did this while displacing the original inhabitants and by utilizing the horror of slavery. The desire to make a decent life for a family is strong. My ancestors did all they could to never be hungry again, for their children to never be hungry again, and for generations of their family to live well in America.

There were Native American wars and death and destruction to retain our homes. There were slave revolts and eventually the slaves received their freedom but at a great price to all. Slaves starved for years and years after the Civil War and suffered and lost children and roamed the country trying to find homes of their own but all too many found nothing but hateful people who didn’t want to share any piece of this country with anyone. Especially slaves and Native Americans.

The Mexicans living in the west suffered the same fate of the Native Americans and were displaced and sent packing further south into Mexico even though much of the west belonged to Mexico, i.e. Spain, and they had shared it with Native Americans for centuries. But the European illegal immigrants were powerful and strong and there were too many to fight. Some of the Mexicans continue to return to their native lands even today but they are driven back by border guards who are themselves illegal immigrants from way back in the history of our country.

And so today the descendants of these tough Europeans feel as the Native Americans did. They fear the new illegal immigrants and don’t want them to take the resources away from them, the same resources we stole from the Native Americans and Mexicans way back then. The slave descendants are still fighting the battle to belong as full members of our society. How long is that going to take?

If I lived in Mexico I’d be crawling here on my hands and knees every day to hop the fence on the border. Every time I was caught I’d come back. That’s because I come from tough illegal immigrant stock. The power of freedom and a better life is strong. Maybe like my ancestors I’d let nothing stop me and I’d form alliances with bad people in an effort to stay here no matter what and raise a family and acquire land. It’s the human way. We fight hard to have a better life.

For every illegal immigrant who climbs the border fence or goes through the scary tunnels by the Rio Grande there’s a story. A sad story of poverty and despair and fear. Fear every single day of their lives. No one cares about them or helps them. Not their new country nor their home country. Everyone hates them. Everyone wants them sent back on the next bus---with a sandwich and a bottle of water. The official deportation menu.

They are oppressed and starving. Just like the folks in Afghanistan, Iraq, and other parts of the world where we are providing assistance at a great cost. When Afghanistan explodes, and it will, the flood gates will open and we will have those immigrants, legal and illegal, flocking to our shores for protection. And we will take them and protect them and house them and educate them and care for them because we always do---unless they come from Mexico.

I’ve had the good fortune to know lots of people originally from Mexico because my family has been in California for a long time. I do not know any Mexican gang members or criminals in the same way that I don’t know any Mafia members amongst my Italian friends or any other criminal types from any other group in my wide selection of friends from all over the world. I just know ordinary people living ordinary lives and trying to manage families as peacefully as possible.

Criminals and terrorists from all countries will always be able to get into our country or any country they desire to be in because they have money, resources, and sometimes pay off officials to help them on both sides of the borders. We can’t keep them out. Tough legislation to keep illegal immigrants out is laughable to them. They don’t give a fig about our laws. Our tougher laws keep out people who are desperate for better lives.

I do know a lot of perverts and criminals in Congress but there are also many moral and honest people running our country. Should we just toss the entire lot? Maybe we should just take all of Congress and put them on buses and planes with sandwiches and bottles of water and send them all back to their familial countries of origin. That would make room for the decent people slipping over fences to pick grapes.

Who would you rather live next door to? A migrant field worker who works in the fields all day or Anthony Weiner? Excuse me for a minute. I'm going to go make his sandwich. I think I have some bottled water in the garage.

O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

--Katherine Lee Bates

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Lost Teddy Bears

2011-06-26T11:15:00.000-07:00

[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

We’ve all watched the sad news. Tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, fires, floods. Terrible loss of life and property. Some will recover, others never will. Most people interviewed are grateful to be alive and that they have their families. Many have lost families and friends. All say they don’t care about their “things,” that they are just glad to be alive.

A follow-up story on the victims of the tornadoes not long ago focused on a woman who sat on her front porch, or what was left of it. She was still stunned and not sure what was in her future but she assured the reporter she was grateful to be alive. Something about that woman has haunted me ever since. I can’t stop thinking about her and I finally figured out why.

She was an older woman, probably hadn’t worked for many years, and seemed fragile. She may not have been fragile before the tornado but certainly was after. She looked around at the empty space where her home once stood and her eyes just said it all. She lost everything and she was possibly in her 80s and now what?

After the recent storms and fires and earthquakes and so forth I took a stroll around my house and property. I looked at what I’ve accumulated in the sixteen years since I’ve been in my house and was surprised to see what I’ve accomplished when looking at it all with a new “eye,” with the old woman’s eye. I looked around my little share of the planet as she looked around her spot during that report and tried to see what she saw.

Most of what I have is comprised of furnishings, indoors and out, and the basics needed to live in a home. Most of that can be replaced over time with insurance and a bit of budgeting. However, what about our keepsakes? I know that’s what she was thinking. “What about all my little memories and photos and keepsakes?” If she wasn’t, I was thinking it for her.

I have a photo collection comprising 100 years of family photos. Last year I put them all on disks which took about six months, many hours a day. I wore out my scanner. Each was placed in a chronological group and when each group was organized I made DVD movies with music of the accompanying era. I have 33 DVDs, numbered, labeled, and stored, along with 33 matching .jpeg disks. With the separate .jpeg disks I can select a photo I want to share or print easily. When I finished the task I was struck with how valuable all of the photos and movies were---our family history. Of my belongings they are the most precious to me. Along with those disks I have a few albums, one presented to me by my mom a few years ago. I also scanned that album into the collection but the album is in my bookcases with a few others.

After this project I made copies of it all and gave an entire set to each of my kids and a set to my mom. I did that so they would be able to view the collection but also for safekeeping. I can’t imagine losing those precious photos and if something happened to my home I know that I have them safely tucked away elsewhere. It’s a huge relief.

But that’s not all. I have an enormous music collection spanning almost my entire life. All of it has been placed on my computer and portable digital player with a few exceptions---a closet full of cassette tapes and CDs. I know I can buy equipment that will transfer those old formats but I haven’t started yet. The collection is too large for me to grab in the event of an emergency though hopefully I can grab my computer. You never know what is going to happen and perhaps I wouldn’t be home.

Naturally I have all the important papers we all have and important computer files and all my original drafts of my three published novels. How do we get those back? We don’t mostly. I suppose I could store some of these items offsite but I’d want to duplicate those items too and place them---where?

But as I strolled around what really got to me was the little keepsakes tucked here and there. Plaster handprints of the kids’ tiny hands in kindergarten, knickknacks my grandmother gave me that she received as wedding gifts, fun birthday gifts from friends I’ve gotten over the years, an afghan my grandmother made for me, a collection of house plants, some older than my kids, a few pieces of costume jewelry that are not worth anything except sentimental value, art that means the world to me, much of it created by my sister and in particular a piece she painted for the cover of my first book, and the list goes on.

At some point as we recover from a disaster we will think of all of those lost things. One by one, day by day, these treasures will creep into our consciousness. We may be grateful we are alive but we will be in mourning for some of those things that can never be replaced. We won’t mourn our sofas or chairs (unless it’s the rocker we rocked our babies in), we won’t mourn our electronics (except for the files contained in them), we won’t mourn lamps (unless they are family heirlooms), tables (unless it’s the table we grew up with and carried carefully with us everywhere we moved in our adult lives), and countless other items that we may forget momentarily while immediate issues present but may haunt us for a very long time as we move to our new futures.

For me, of all the “things” I have that I believe I might miss the most (because my photos are safe) would be Jo Jo. Jo Jo has been with me for 66 years. I’ve never lost him or misplaced him. He’s with me right now as I type. He’s my first teddy bear purchased by my parents when they learned I was on the way. He’s simply irreplaceable.

So my heart goes out to all those people who have lost their photos, and ash trays their kids made in elementary school (yes, kids used to make ash trays for gifts in school), and movies of the kids’ first steps, and silly souvenirs they brought home from their honeymoons, and hand sewn aprons their grandmas made, and quilts their great-great-grandmas made, and their moms’ wedding ring, and of course all the lost teddy bears.

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Lonely vs. Alone

2011-06-18T09:24:00.000-07:00

[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

Many of us have experienced “loneliness” here and there throughout life. Many of us have also found ourselves “alone” for stretches of time. But being alone doesn’t mean we are lonely. Sometimes we can be lonely in the middle of a crowd or in the middle of our family and friends. Loneliness for many is not about the number of people surrounding us but rather the quality of the relationships within our circle of family and friends. It’s also our ability to be happy with ourselves---alone---for long periods of time. However, both situations are layered and complicated for seniors.

I remember driving my kids off to college and the car loaded with their belongings. It was fun getting them settled in and exploring their schools and communities. But eventually that special time ends and it’s time for parents to head home and our college students to get wild and crazy and make stupid mistakes. Ah, those were special times.

As I drove away I cried just about all the way home. My daughter went to school about four hours away and my son two hours. I looked like I had been kick boxing for days after returning home from both of those trips. And yet I was so happy they were beginning their adult lives.

I can’t say I felt loneliness when they went away. I missed them terribly because we are a closely bonded single-parent family of three but I wasn’t lonely. I had a full time job, family, friends, and pets. I also had lots of activities I participated in. I still miss them to this day but it’s different now. I’m happy for them and the lives they’ve made for themselves so I’m not longing for them. It’s the way it is supposed to be. We grow up and make our lives and leave our parents behind.

I never remarried and have lived on my own for many years. I love the time I have to do all the things I want to do just for me and I’m used to this lifestyle. The problem comes for some when they have spent years with a mate and then lose that special person. That occurs often now in my circle of seniors. I was divorced at a young age and therefore had many years to learn how to be on my own without someone else and I’ve arrived at my senior years with a fully developed independent life. Not so for many of my family members and friends.

My stepdad suffered a stroke several years ago and must live in a skilled nursing facility for round the clock medical attention. My mom is 86 and home alone. I’ve invited her to come and live with me but she wants to stay in her own home for as long as possible. I understand her need to be home and to remain in the town where my stepdad lives in his nursing home, but I know she is lonely sometimes.

She didn’t have time alone as a younger woman to develop interests and habits that would take her to old age. She was part of a couple for most of her life and a daughter for the early years. She went from her childhood home directly to marriage. When my dad died I went home to stay with her for a couple of years then when I moved she met and married my stepdad. She spent very little time on her own until my stepdad’s stroke.

She coped with her situation fairly well when it happened and I retired three years earlier than planned so that we could do things together. We live in different towns about an hour apart and at first we met for lunch or dinner, she came and stayed with me and I went north and stayed with her, and we took little trips to visit relatives and so forth. But each time I dropped her back at her house I felt bad because she seemed sad. All of her friends were married and traveled and many family and friends were passing away which diminished her social network.

Shortly before I retired she was diagnosed with a lung disease. This kept her out of her already limited social loop and all too soon we were no longer able to take the little trips. It became increasingly more difficult for her to go out to lunch or to come and stay with me. Now she stays at home 24 hours a day except for frequent visits to several doctors.

I took some time and did research on seniors living on their own after long marriages and discovered that indeed it is more difficult for them to be alone without being lonely. If they become ill they often become even more isolated due to health restrictions and can no longer participate in even the simplest social activities. Many who may have become attached to a senior center in their community eventually can no longer visit for recreation.

Adult children of these folks are often seniors themselves but try to include their ailing parents in family activities as much as possible but it often becomes impossible to keep up the effort for a variety of reasons. Distance is often a factor in how much time a senior can give to their even more senior parent. And so we have thousands of seniors tucked away inside homes and apartments who are completely alone---and lonely.

Several articles I read online suggested to younger readers that they must develop strong individual lives apart from their spouses. During the years before we find ourselves alone it’s up to us to become independent and fulfilled by our own interests. We must pursue hobbies that can carry us to old age, select some activities that are fitness related and others that promote mental challenges. Meeting frequently on a social level but separately from spouses with groups of friends and maintaining those relationships is important.

It was found that of the seniors who visited senior centers regularly and maintained long time friendships managed alone time much more comfortably. It was also thought these people may have a higher quality of life and may not develop certain illnesses known to hit seniors or if they did become ill the illness was more manageable because the person had lived a strong personal lifestyle. Sports, hobbies, religious activities, and educational pursuits were named as the most promising ways to avoid loneliness even in octogenarians and beyond. But preferably if they started these lifestyle choices early. In fact, the earlier the better.

I’m fortunate that I find way too many things to keep me occupied each day and never have time to feel lonely. When I sit on my little patio swing sipping coffee I feel content and happy with the life I’ve made for myself. Sometimes I bring a logic puzzle outside and work on it while sipping, other times I bring my laptop out there and surf the net. When I have an opportunity to meet with family or friends it’s a treat but not a necessity. I like my alone time and I’m never lonely. I’m a click away from family and friends and my cell phone is always with me.

Most quality of life issues are up to us. We have to dig in and make life interesting for ourselves so that when we reach our “golden” years they are truly golden. Or at the very least, gold plated!

[Pets help too for those able to properly manage a pet.]

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Are You Smart?

2011-06-10T07:14:00.000-07:00

[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

New I.Q. test. See how you do!

You take nude photos of yourself and you:

a. Email them to all your friends thinking they will not betray you.

b. Post them on Facebook thinking that your post is private and there’s no way anyone will see them except for your custom list.

c. Tweet about them with a link to your private photo album using code language that you believe no one but your friends will decipher.

d. None of the above.

You have an affair, though you are married and a high profile and important politician, and you:

a. Take your girlfriend to a posh restaurant and sit in a darkened corner thinking you’re hiding even though surveillance cameras are outside the restaurant, in the parking lot, on the stores across the street, every diner in the restaurant has a cell phone with photo and video capabilities, and paparazzi are always following you.

b. Take your girlfriend to a resort telling your family you are going to a weekend environmental conference to discuss the disappearance of the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker even though there are surveillance cameras inside, outside, on the ferry which takes you to the “secluded” island, and everyone there has cell phones with the aforementioned photo and video capabilities, and you are followed by the usual number of paparazzi.

c. Take photos of the two of you together on your smart phone while sun bathing nude on your private patio and mail them to selected friends thinking your friends will never betray you.

d. None of the above.

You lie to your associates that you are going to another conference and spend a tidy fortune on luxury accommodations and perks that the taxpayer pays for and you:

a. Have your girlfriend meet you there even though there are security cameras everywhere because it’s a high-end facility and caters to wealthy people who don’t want their belongings stolen or their safety compromised.

b. Take photos of you and your girlfriend in your private room doing all sorts of interesting things and send them to your friends thinking they won’t betray you.

c. Forget to tell your other girlfriend so she gets mad and while you are away contacts the press and spills her guts.

d. None of the above.

You’re gay but have not “come out” so you visit public restrooms and you:

a. Get caught trying to solicit sex and say you thought the guy in the next stall was an extraterrestrial and you were trying to show him how to use human bathroom facilities.

b. Get caught trying to solicit sex and say you dropped the toilet paper and wanted the guy in the next stall to give you some (paper).

c. Get caught trying to solicit sex and say you enjoy meeting new people no matter where you are and, by the way, you compliment his shoes.

d. None of the above.

Scoring is easy. If you answered anything but “d” on any of the questions, you failed, you’re an idiot, and you need to go live in a cave.

Technology is out there watching us and listening to us and if for no other reason than that, we must behave. Forget morals just for a moment. If you don’t possess morals at least have a brain and a little fear of losing your family, your job, your respect. Fear the possibility of going to jail/prison if you get caught committing a crime. Fear Big Brother. It’s just stupid not to.

My mom has friends who have sworn off all technology. They refuse to have a computer in their home. I don’t know if they have cell phones. They say they are protecting their privacy. They launched into a diatribe about technology and how safe they are compared to others.

I listened, politely, and waited. I then asked them if they watched TV and if so what service did they subscribe to? After they told me I explained their viewing was monitored and reports were made and sent to advertisers and programming based on their viewing habits. I asked if they used any banks. They did. I told them how banks operate in the computer age and even if they didn’t use ATMs or perform online banking their banks were LOADED with technology and tracked every single penny they spent and if their bank was ever hacked every detail of their lives including their Social Security numbers and where they lived would be available to the world. I asked if they shopped and if they used credit cards. I asked if they visited the doctor.

Did they have their car serviced? Did they have electricity and gas? Did they have water and sewer? Did they pay taxes? Did they write checks? (I haven’t written checks in years.) Each time I asked a question and told them where their information was being stored they turned various shades of gray. I told them to watch their pretty mailbox which is located on a lazy country lane because that’s a prime spot for opportunistic theft and once thieves obtain their mail they could have a field day. I wasn’t trying to be mean. I was trying to let them know that IT’S TOO LATE. Whether or not they have a computer or a smart phone or any other technology they are part of someone else’s technology---and have been for dozens of years. No one is safe. No one. Not even our top government leaders. IT’S ALL OUT THERE.

But mom’s friends are normal every day unenlightened folks. Do we want unenlightened people running our government? If they are so out of the tech loop they can’t manage their private lives and allow technology to narc on them, they should not be in office.

I’ve known people who have lost their jobs for a lot less than what we see on the evening news. It’s time for the smart folks who know they are being watched to educate the stupid folks who are so arrogant and empowered and wealthy they believe they can get away with anything they do.

Setting aside the moral issues of these behaviors, let’s just think about the composition of the brain matter these idiots possess in today’s tech world. Five year olds know better than to post anything anywhere of an embarrassing nature. And it’s highly likely that when a politician does something horrible and it goes viral their kids see it first. Is that what they want? Do they want their kids to see their parents in various stages of undress with or without a “friend”?

How smart are YOU? Hope you answered “d” on all the questions. If not, go away.

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]

Baby Boomers

2011-06-05T06:45:00.000-07:00

[New blogs posted every weekend. For previous blogs please visit “blog archive” to the lower right of this screen. Click on the small black arrows for a drop down list.]

I’ve hit an interesting age. In my group of friends and family many of us are caring for our aging ill spouses, our parents, our adult children and even our grandchildren. In a couple of cases all of them at once. We are, apparently, the generation that does it all.

Baby boomers, and those slightly before and slightly after, are experiencing retirement differently than many retirees before us. Our parents married young because of WWII and had children right away---us! Because they were so young when they married many of us are fortunate to still have our parents with us today. My mom is only 20 years older than I am and for the most part until the last few years she enjoyed relatively good health. We used to go on short trips, out to lunch and dinner, and generally scooted around over a large area of California. I was in denial about the length of time we would be able to do that and now we’ve hit the wall. Except for doctors’ appointments she is now housebound though still living on her own.

Several years ago my stepdad had a stroke resulting in permanent residence in a nursing facility. We were fortunate to find one managed by caring people and he resides there to this day. He does not have the use of one entire side of his body and his mental condition is poor but he is usually cheerful and happy to see us. Sometimes he calls us by the wrong names and he doesn’t understand exactly what is going on in his life but he has genuine moments of what we like to believe is happiness. Especially when we visit. Sometimes his hilarious sense of humor comes out and he hits comments pertinent to the conversation perfectly with one of his great zingers. But we just learned he has “taken a turn” and is no longer eating. He now weighs about 114 pounds and we are talking to the facility managers about the next steps in his life and his care.

Prior to mom’s declining health she visited him every single day. She would get up, have her coffee and read the paper, then head to the nursing home, spend the middle of the day with him, then come home and start all over the next day. The only times she didn’t visit was if she had a cold or the flu. Sadly, she came down with a debilitating lung disease and we were told she would slowly succumb to it and would notice a reduction in her ability to perform normal activities in a matter of months.

At first we didn’t notice the difference but it’s been over four years now and she has finally come to this point of being housebound and unable to go anywhere or do anything. We purchased a wheelchair for her visits to the doctor because she cannot walk from the car to the office. We hired a helper who comes twice a week for about four hours each day to do light house work and errands and a little cooking and whatever mom might need. I live in another town about an hour away but visit once a week and do whatever I can to help her out and just to visit and check up on her and my stepsiblings do likewise. We haven’t visited my stepdad in quite a while because I can’t convince her to dress and take a ride. Fortunately, my stepsiblings visit their dad and often stop by to see mom. None of us live in the same town so it isn’t easy to get to her town and visit more often than we do. We, the children, are still maintaining busy lives in separate towns far away from the folks.

I have a friend who is taking care of her bedridden husband and her mother who is 86 and her son who is in his late 30s, all living in her home. Though her husband could be in a rest home, and many have suggested that would be best, she refuses to do that and takes care of him herself with little assistance. She also takes care of her grandchildren occasionally and recently the family welcomed a great grandchild.

Other friends have grandchildren that they take care of every day and some have their adult children living with them for a variety of reasons. My daughter, 35, is living with me temporarily while she saves to buy a home. She believes, as do I, that this is the perfect time to buy a home because the prices have plummeted. In order to save a hefty down payment we both felt this was the ideal way for her to save that amount of money without shelling out rent. As well as saving for a home she is making double and triple payments on her car so that by the time she buys a home she won’t have a car payment. I’m divorced so it’s just the two of us in my tiny house---so far.

One friend had to move to another state and her children were upset with her because she couldn’t be there to help them anymore. It was important for her to move for many reasons including the fact that she owned a home in the other state which she purchased years ago for retirement. She’s almost at that point and decided to live there now and prepare for full retirement. Another friend recently lost her husband. He had been in poor health and over the last few years she had tremendous challenges as she watched her wonderful husband deteriorate and then finally pass away. He became ill almost at the time she retired. She took care of him by herself every single day. Another friend’s mom is 93 and still lives alone in her apartment hundreds of miles away. She has started having problems and now the family is discussing options for the immediate future. The family is spread out over hundreds of miles from one another and must fly to be with her whenever they can. There are many more members in my circle of family and friends with similar stories.

The point of all this is, it’s all about family. We do what we have to in order to keep everyone going. We are in the middle and juggling so many lives and issues that sometimes it can be overwhelming. Many cultures care for several layers of family and some traditionally live in the same community for generations. This then provides huge family support made up of parents, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, and friends. We don’t see that as much in the U.S. though there are certainly some areas where these multiple generations live together in one city or town or large city neighborhoods. I suspect it’s a lot easier to care for aging ill parents and babysit grandchildren if everyone lives in the same town. Not so easy when we have to fly or drive long distances.

I’m an only child but have stepsiblings which is tremendous. We didn’t grow up together but met as young adults when our parents married and have always enjoyed the blending of our families. We had years and years of fun gatherings at our parents’ house and BBQs and picnics and my stepdad built a huge picnic table where we ate giant meals he prepared and we played cards and visited for hours and all the little kids ran around playing and squealing and making lots of noise and we always brought our dogs and we went to the lake and had more picnics and swimming and BBQs and my stepdad took the kids fishing and . . . well, it was wonderful and now it’s all just a sweet memory. Now we are trying very hard to keep my mom going and my stepdad isn’t doing well and our days are filled with thoughts of what’s to come for them. I’ve spent the last few days drawing diagrams of how I can arrange my house so that mom can come and live with me.

One day my kids will be contemplating what is to become of me. Wish I knew so I could help them. Because that’s what baby boomers do. We help everyone.

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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Shame, shame shame!

2011-05-27T08:51:00.000-07:00

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It was awful. There were hurricanes, floods, earthquakes, tornadoes, tidal waves, and thunder and lightning storms. The manager of the power grid center lost most of the power in the Midwest but he didn’t panic. At home that morning, his teenage daughter was full of angst at breakfast but he explained to his wife he wasn’t able to help much since the entire Midwest was under siege from God knows what. Additionally, the power company was behaving unscrupulously (imagine that). When he arrived at work his staff bombarded him with questions but he spun around the crisis center nailing well planned action responses as he was trained to do. He was interviewed by the national press where he was asked hard questions which he answered expertly and smoothly. He was exhausted and could barely stop to think. And yet, stop he did---to run over to a five-star hotel down the street from the power grid crisis center to roll in the hay with a beautiful federal weather expert sent from DC to help him. She helped him all right. It didn’t sound like fiction to me.

That was from Category 6: Day of Destruction. It was a movie I watched on the SyFy Channel and it was the inspiration for this post. With all the recent storms and damage in the Midwest the SyFy Channel played many disaster films all day. Some of them didn’t seem as bad as what we were watching live on TV.

So the crisis manager had his hands full. Pun intended. Maybe that’s why we have so many problems in the world. Our leaders have to stop working in the middle of a disaster to have a romp. It must be true since it happens all the time at all levels from kings and queens and presidents to sports figures and former governors.

Humans are not as civilized as we like to think. Our animal urges are still going strong. We not only bonk like bunnies but we are aggressive and steal food (i.e. power and money) from competing animals. But mostly, we hump and we don’t care who it is, where it takes place, or whom in our lives we hurt.

I’m glad I’m not a celebrity. It wouldn’t matter though because I don’t have any skeletons in my closet that could turn up on TMZ or CNN. So if I end up writing a Pulitzer Prize winning novel (little chance there) or getting sued for an inflammatory blog post (more of a chance there) I’ll be safe. Why? Because I respect myself and my family.

Celebrities have more pressure on them to behave. They are held to a different standard than us little folk down here. Celebrities and people who are responsible for children (teachers, priests, coaches, etc.) have a much higher standard to live up to. Keeping their pants zipped and their knees pressed tightly together should be their number one consideration.

It takes two to tango. I saw that on Dancing with the Stars so it must be true. Just because one has the opportunity to behave like a pig doesn’t mean one must. There are so many things we all desire: money, jewels, cars, alcohol, drugs, chocolate (that last one is for me), and so forth. But wanting “stuff” doesn’t mean we can take “stuff” whenever we want. I learned that as a child. Never steal. That goes for sex. We can’t have it just because we want it or just because it’s available or in some sad cases when it isn’t offered but is taken anyway, physically or emotionally. (Coercion by a powerful employer is a form of rape.) And how many unfaithful rats bring home disease to their families? Condoms work to a point but not everyone uses them and sometimes they aren’t used properly.

I’ve heard opinions that celebrities must only be judged by their professional lives and their personal lives are their own business. That was true when we lived in caves. Back then in our early history Gorg didn’t know that Morg in the next cave was bonking Lorg and Dorg so Gorg wasn’t influenced by Morg’s bad behavior. Today it is impossible to flip on the TV, radio, or computer without a headline about someone getting arrested for a DUI, or attacking someone while in a drunken stupor, or cheating on a spouse, beating a significant other, or murdering a significant other. The list is long. We’ve all seen it and all too often. Do kids and teens think it’s cool? The TV ratings say yes because guess who’s watching?

What is the matter with us? With all our professed religiosity we seem to be acting more horribly than ever. Or maybe we just are more aware of it due to outrageous media proliferation of information of that sordid nature. My God, we’ve developed TV shows just to deliver that salacious news TO THE WORLD. We get offended when anyone challenges our Christian nation but our Christian celebrities are behaving abhorrently. Many of them, when caught, then do the “talk” of shame: I’m so sorry, I asked God to forgive me, I will never do that again, I pray to Jesus every night for forgiveness. Don’t send me to jail. (Worked for O.J.) Why is it so many find religion after they’ve done something wrong? Isn’t that putting the cart before the horse? Isn’t that leaving the barn door open? Isn’t that . . . oh, never mind. I have a theory. Many people behave badly and prepare to repent once they are caught. It’s not a deterrent to bad behavior. It’s a strategy to get away with crappola then ask for forgiveness.

Celebrities should know that the moment they become famous they no longer have private lives. Not fair? Too bad. Let them flop around in their millions for a while and figure that one out. They owe it to society, let alone their families, to behave. Many of these people hop on the charity bandwagon and truly collect millions in the name of some organization then go out and make fools of themselves. It doesn’t work that way. Our citizenry and our children, in particular, need us to be strong and healthy and true to our families.

When Arnold Schwarzenegger was running for governor of California a few women came forward to say he behaved badly and groped a few of them while at work. There was no conclusive evidence (rarely is) so it went away. Maria Shriver Schwarzenegger defended her husband and that was that. He promised to transform California but left it worse than when he found it. Maybe it’s because he was too busy fooling around in a hotel like the guy in Category 6: Day of Destruction. Hopefully he wasn’t fooling around in the Governor’s office. Or was he? That’s been done before as we all know too well.

Don’t be a Morg. And don’t be a mindless participant (like Lorg and Dorg). Call me crazy but it is absolutely possible to go through life without humping everything that moves.

Shame, shame, shame!
by Sylvia Robinson and performed by American disco band Shirley & Company. 1974

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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HAIR!

2011-05-21T11:46:00.000-07:00

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Hair. Our glorious mane. Our crowning glory. The maintenance and styling of our hair is a huge industry. Hair products, shops/salons, infomercials, you name it. We are obsessed. And not just women. I’ve known men who spend a great deal of time and energy (and money) on their hair. We love our hair. We need our hair. Some of us can barely function if it doesn’t “work” in the morning. Going to work when having a bad hair day can ruin a career. It certainly can ruin a date.

Almost every day I read something about hair or see a report on TV. People losing their hair discover new restorative treatments, people with premature gray hair learn coloring tips, people with unruly frizzy hair have new products to straighten those strands, people with flat lifeless hair find perms and other “body” additive treatments. You name it. And yet I’ve also noticed an increase in reports on letting hair go back to its natural state rather than bleaching or dying or perming or straightening it based on some reports that the chemicals may be harmful to the scalp, let alone the hair. In particular, there seems to be a movement to let the hair go gray when it wants to. Just last night I watched a report and the newscaster featured a series of photos depicting her own hair going from beautiful black to stunning white/silver over the years.

When I was little I was a towhead. It stayed that way for about ten years when we noticed the color slowly darkening. Then at about age thirteen it was mousy brown/blond. At that point I started combing it with hydrogen peroxide then I sat outside in the sun and it lightened up. I did that for a few years before hitting the color aisle of my local drug store. From that point, at around sixteen, I kept my hair blond until my fifties. I usually kept it light blond but once or twice went platinum. Though I loved that look it was a serious maintenance problem with the mousy brown roots. It also required “stripping” the hair before applying a platinum color/toner.

Hence, my hair was very damaged and thin by my fifties. It was stretchy when wet and when I went to hair dressers they begged me to stop and to let it grow out and told me I should go through a series of conditioning treatments. Shower drains were frightening during that period. Much of the damage was also done when I added perms to my hair color routine. Because I have very straight hair without body I usually have always had either a body perm or a full-blown curly perm. It’s amazing I still have hair.

Finally, I went for a haircut one day and was told that my hair was in the worst condition she had ever seen. I was horrified. She recommended cutting it super short and letting all the chemicals grow out. We did a very short cut (sort of cute) and I let it grow without any chemical treatments for about two years. The amazing part of this is that at I didn’t have a single gray hair. Just the mousy brown I had escaped when I was sixteen. I was happy to not have gray hair but disappointed that the mousy brown was still there. I had hoped to have some change through the years, even gray. In fact, I secretly hoped it would be that beautiful silver/white some are blessed with.

I took a long look at my family and realized most of them colored their hair but not my mom. My mother to this day, at eighty-six, has very little gray hair. In fact, it doesn’t look gray at all though she definitely does have some gray hair. The rest of her hair, brown, blends perfectly with the odd color of gray hairs she has. Her hair looks lightly streaked. So I determined, based on that familial tie, that I wouldn’t have a lot of gray. But after about a year I realized that a benefit of coloring the hair is that the chemicals change the hair shaft and in my case my hair behaved better with the addition of color. The natural look I ended up with without coloring or perms was sort of frizzy even though I have straight hair. With color my hair would flatten out and look smooth.

So since my hair was in great condition, the best it had been in years, I started in with color again. I decided I wouldn’t perm it anymore and experimented with tones and shades and settled on a golden blond and it stayed that way until a few months ago. I decided to let the color grow out again so I had my hair cut very short once more and I’m in about stage three of the grow-out period.

Like my mom, I have almost no gray hair, at sixty-six, but I do have a wide streak developing on the right side of my head that is gray. It’s too soon to tell if it’s going to be pretty or weird. A couple more haircuts and I’ll know. However, the texture of that gray streak is very odd. It doesn’t belong on my head. It’s coarse, curly, and will not cooperate when I try to style it. For that reason alone I may have to begin coloring it again. Some gray hair is breathtaking. I love the white tresses some fortunate people end up with. Some silver streaks are also beautiful. Silver all around is very pretty. Some gray is flat and sort of mousy. I’m positive that’s where I’m headed. The little gray patch developing above my ear looks speckled.

Now I’m not so sure I’ll be able to let my hair go natural. I don’t think my gray is going to be that beautiful silver swash of color. I think it’s going to be mousy brown with a stubborn mousy gray streak that will want to live its own life. I may have to be a blond forever. But I’m going to wait and see.

“I want it long, straight, curly, fuzzy, snaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty, oily, greasy, fleecy, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen, knotted, polka-dotted, twisted, beaded, braided, powdered, flowered, and confettied, bangled, tangled, spangled, and spaghettied!”

Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical
Lyrics by James Rado and Gerome Ragni and music by Galt MacDermot.

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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Fascinating Fascinators

2011-05-14T10:34:00.000-07:00

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My increasing interest in Kate and William’s wedding was a mystery for me. I had sort of a ho-hum feeling about it. I wanted to see the dress and the highlights but that was all I was interested in---initially. I didn’t understand the excitement about this event especially in the U.S. After all, didn’t we kick the monarchy out of here a while back? And it’s not just the political aspect of a monarchy I find puzzling, though Queen Elizabeth doesn’t have much to do with that anymore, but in our country we don’t believe in class systems; right?

Yet as the big day drew near I started to get a little more interested. I’m not sure why but when the designers interviewed on TV discussed the dress and its possible designer, with photos of previous extravagant weddings, and then discussed the outfits (and hats) that would be worn by the guests, I sort of fell into it. About three days before the wedding I suspended my negativity toward imperial/monarchial entities and just sat back and enjoyed the spectacle. And that’s certainly what it was. It turned out to be a lot of fun.

On the day of the event I had my customary insomnia, my normal sleep routine, and therefore I watched the entire event---live. I fell asleep just as Kate reached the altar which was about 3 a.m. PST. But I didn’t care. I was interested in the arrival of the guests, and in particular her arrival, and once I saw all of that I fell asleep.

The next morning I caught highlights of the actual ceremony but what I absolutely loved was the fun the women at the wedding had with their hats. At first I thought they were silly but then something came over me and I ended up loving how whimsical they were and how artistic they were. I was amazed with the engineering effort it must have taken to attach some of these outlandish creations to the heads of all those women.

Years ago I made funny hats for coworkers when they left for other jobs or retired. I decorated the hats with things they were known for and made them wear the hats at their farewell parties. Many of these creations had little dangling things and giant objects attached to the top. It was a blast making those hats and when I studied the creations at the royal wedding I realized what fun the artists must have had. Many of the women wore plain outfits but adorned their ensembles with outrageous hats. These were women of affluence and influence, many from old aristocratic families. That was not lost on me and I was not able to suspend that part of my vacation from criticism.

As they walked in on the arms of their escorts, whom no one paid attention to in the least (except maybe for Beckham), they actually seemed to strut. No easy task considering the hat balancing act and some wore five-inch heels. It also was not lost on me that they could afford to strut. Their outfits could probably pay a couple of months’ salaries for the typical London citizen, for those lucky enough to even have jobs. I had to struggle with my suspension.

In my part of the world there’s a wonderful performance venue in San Francisco---Beach Blanket Babylon, “the longest running musical revue in theater history.” I’ve attached a link to their website because it’s worth a peek. Through the storyline of Snow White (loosely) they provide hilarious insight into current events via song and dance and wear incredible costumes topped by giant hats. I’ve watched a couple of behind-the-scenes interviews and the hats are truly feats of engineering. Hats are fun.

http://www.beachblanketbabylon.com/when/index.shtml

Sometimes it’s important to suspend our belief systems in order to enjoy a moment of silliness. I believe many people did just that. I watched snippets of the Imperial House of Japan’s royal wedding years ago. The Japanese monarchy is the oldest continuous hereditary monarchy in the world still in existence. One of their princes married and it was stunning though we saw very little of it. What we saw took our breath away. The bride’s traditional Japanese wedding gown was breathtaking. Her carefully choreographed movements were intense, traditional, meaningful, and very very slow. These weddings, and the people in and around them, in no way relate to me or my life yet I find myself enthralled with the pageantry and traditions. They are fairy tales: A prince and his princess and their beautiful wedding.

But for the most part, though I thought Kate and William’s wedding was a beautiful “show,” I mostly will remember the Fascinating Fascinators. The crazier the better as far as I’m concerned.

So now I’m back to wondering why we still have monarchies in the 21^st century. I suspect there are a few in London wondering the same thing.

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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Hide and Seek

2011-05-08T07:43:00.000-07:00

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I love logic puzzles. Each day when I take small breaks from my routine and chores and projects, I rest by listening to music and playing some kind of game. I love Sudoku, Mahjong Solitaire, puzzle books with all sorts of inductive and deductive logic puzzles, and jigsaw puzzles are a particular favorite. Along with this activity, I have been thinking about the whereabouts of Osama bin Laden for all these years. Talk about a puzzle! Right from the beginning I assumed he was hiding in plain sight. Was that logic? Not so much. It was a calculated hunch. This may seem hard to believe, but for some years now I thought he was hiding in a nice home somewhere in Iran or---drumroll---Pakistan.

No, I’m not a CIA operative. But I am a current events buff and I follow cultural/political events as closely as our buffered and filtered news will allow. Years ago when we partnered with him in the conflict against the late Soviet Union over Afghanistan, bin Laden held court in Pakistan and his field of operations took place there. Somewhere between the lines it became apparent to me that he was not hiding in a cave. I’m not alone. Many people with credentials (and not hunches) came to the same conclusions. Many assumed one of our unfriendly countries was keeping him in comfort hidden somewhere that might be difficult for us to reach. Some even thought it could be a friendly country. We wouldn’t dare invade a friendly country and take him; right? He could flaunt his existence and live well forever; right? Wrong.

I’ve been researching satellites because I’m preparing a novel and satellites play an important part in my story. We have satellites circling the planet that can zoom into my back yard and determine what color my fingernail polish is. It is unreasonable to think that various secret agencies haven’t been checking every square inch of the areas where he might have been living. (Doesn’t anyone watch spy movies?) In fact, the news reports indicate that they found his hiding place in August. I’m not a conspiracy theorist but I suspect they’ve known for a lot longer than that. Finding him was one thing. Finding him hiding within an “ally” (and I use that term loosely) nation was another.

Pakistan’s President Zardari was miffed and expressed controlled outrage that we would dare do this without permission. What about our outrage to discover he was even there? Everyone is always critical and outraged about what Americans do. When do we get to be outraged about the abhorrent behavior of our “allies”?

Osama bin Laden lived comfortably while his soldiers did not. His soldiers live in caves and tents. He had money to build a compound and for all we know at this point he had other financial help building the compound. When I bought my little house I was one of the first ones in the neighborhood and was fully aware of construction of the houses here and knew everything about the occupants as they moved in. And I didn’t need a satellite.

As a nation we need to stop pussy footing around that part of the world and play hard ball. We must stop giving money to countries who back-bite us, we have to stop giving money to quasi-military organizations who profess to be our friends (remember: bin Laden was our friend once and we gave him millions [billions?] of dollars to help us in Afghanistan against the Russians, uh, I mean the Soviet Union, which he did from---Pakistan.) How did he repay us? How do any of them ever repay us?

Now that we’ve “got” him, we need to let that part of the world fight their own battles. Lately they are doing a great job but NATO nations are helping tremendously. I checked this morning and noted Pakistan is not designated as a NATO member nation. They have nuclear capability yet they are not NATO members? Jimmy Carter said this morning that because Pakistan has over 100 nuclear weapons we need to be cautious in accusing them of duplicity. They are a powerful world force because of their nuclear capabilities. What about us? Aren’t we a force to be reckoned with? When my dog pees on the carpet she cowers before me. I’m bigger. It’s time other nations stop peeing all over us. It’s time for a little cowering.

Once various countries in that region attain their freedom I’m not certain the democracy they say they desire will happen for them because of so many extreme political and religious ideologies in that part of the world. But our main goal has been, I thought, to get bin Laden. And we did. Now we’re done.

Let’s bring all our soldiers and money home and take care of our economy, our schools, our failing health care system, our homeless population, our mortgage catastrophe, our corporate manipulation of Congress, our deplorable employment tragedy, our energy compromises and disasters and dependence on foreign energy, our horrific crime problems, our bankrupt municipalities, our drug and gang problems, our failing air traffic systems, our less than effective FEMA group, our blind eye to child sex trade slavery (sex trade slavery period), our equally blind eye to child neglect and abuse, our divorce statistics, our foster care system, our foreign policies generally, our ugly foreign trade agreements, our neglect of seniors, our neighbor to the south which keeps its citizens in abject poverty so no wonder they flock to live here, and countless other issues we so desperately need to address now that we finally “got” Osama bin Laden. We engaged in three wars to get him. We got him.

I’ve been told my views on bringing our troops and money home is simplistic. Yep.

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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Yoga and the Heavily Used Body

2011-04-29T09:53:00.000-07:00

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It happened overnight. One morning a few years ago I woke up, stretched, and as I swung my legs over the side of the bed I felt a tug running from my hip to my ankle. That was new. That was odd. That was weird. That was age!

At some point our body tells us we need to change our game plan. For many of us that happens right around 50. In fact, for women, menopause changes the game plan significantly. Along with menopause we often notice other changes. It’s too bad this happens at the same time, overnight, but it does. We can boo-hoo and whine or we can take action. I chose action. I chose yoga!

However, like most things we do when trying to make ourselves healthy I didn’t throw myself into it with vigor. I started out with good intentions but soon slacked off in favor of other things like going to work, managing my home, managing my life, and so what if I was a bit stiff in the morning? I’d be fine. Right? Wrong!

At the first sign of a body change we need to address the change and first decide if we need medical advice or if we can simply modify our lifestyle to correct the condition ourselves. I had a small dog when this first happened and I had been walking her hit or miss but started walking her more frequently to see if I could loosen up. When the stiffness didn’t subside with the increased walking I took a more serious look at yoga again.

Finally, just a few months ago (better late than never), I started a morning routine and it stuck. Now I do one of three routines every morning. But before anyone pats me on the back it’s important to note that I’m no longer working in an office with office hour constraints. Though I’m a very busy retiree I can factor in my daily exercise and yoga and dog walking now. I simply found it staggering to try to do it all when I worked. That’s not an excuse but for me it was a fact.

But that was then and this is now. Now I don’t have the same type of time issues and now I need it more than ever. So now I do it. In addition to the yoga I also walk two dogs, both rescues I adopted about the time I retired since my other little dog went to doggie heaven a year before I retired, and I also pop one of many exercise DVDs I have collected into my DVD player each day. I mix it up for variety. I exercise now more than I ever have in my entire life including my youth. That’s because it’s so important now if I want to continue being an active person.

Yoga, however, of all the exercise I do, is the absolute best for the senior body. Anyone can start a yoga program as long as they take it slow and don’t force themselves into a pretzel. There are countless levels of yoga, many different styles, and the Internet is filled with photos of correct yoga postures and helpful videos.
Correctly posturing the poses in yoga is very important along with proper breathing.

Though I do not have an instructor I do have a full length mirror (scary) and I can pause my DVD player and take a peek at myself to see how I’m doing. Sometimes I see hilarious things in that full length mirror. But yoga is very forgiving. It may take days or weeks to really master the correct posturing for a particular pose but along the way to mastering the pose the body still derives benefits from the effort.

I tried yoga in my youth and followed along with a popular TV yoga expert. I loved it but didn’t fully appreciate it like I do now. A 66-year-old body is so much more aware of itself than an 18-year-old body is. I know every muscle, every tendon, every bone in this older body and I know my limits but I also know how and when I can push myself. 18-year-olds can push as hard as they want with very little damage but it’s important for the more heavily used body to pull back a bit and move slowly into any exercise. Test the waters. Does something pinch, pull, snap, twitch, or scream? Too much! Slow down. But don’t give up. Keep going.

In fact, that’s the essence of yoga. Do yoga to keep going. So I’ve been doing the routines for the past few months and when I get up in the mornings now I literally bounce out of bed. I have no tension or tugs or pain. I can literally hop out of bed and move on with my day. After the morning coffee and animal feeding routine I head to the DVD player and start one of the routines. [Note: My newest acquisition is entitled “Fab/50-Yoga For Faboverfifty Women” with detailed instructions and wonderful videos of correct positioning which I purchased on VibrantNation.com---one for me and one for a friend.]

Over the past few months though I’ve certainly noticed great things in my ability to move about my day because of yoga I found another special aspect of daily yoga: peace of mind. When learning yoga postures it’s fairly impossible for negative thoughts or daily worries to creep into our brains. In fact, it is suggested by yoga masters to let our problems and every-day lives to go away while we practice our yoga routines. In the beginning yoga was challenging so it was easy to leave my life behind because the concentration to get my limbs and torso to cooperate was so intense. But once I got a little better at the routines I started drifting and thinking about my “to-do” list and then realized I was missing one of the most important parts of yoga: the quiet mind. So I spent the next few weeks forcing myself to only think about yoga when doing yoga. Like anything, it takes practice then it becomes a habit.

I spend a lot time of writing about senior life and working on ways to continue to be active and healthy for my body and mind. It’s a lot of work, but let’s face it: what’s the alternative? Makes me shiver.

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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I'm NOT Retired!

2011-04-22T09:09:00.000-07:00

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The 24-hour day is loosely arranged in our society as eight hours of work, eight hours of personal time (which includes getting ready for work and going to and from so really depending on our travel time we get a lot less personal time), and eight hours of sleep (if we don’t have kids). I’ve been retired from the office for four years and I’ve had a tough time changing that schedule. In the beginning I stayed up late and slept in---for five days. I went right back to early to bed and early to rise. I may have the farming gene. I hit the floor running every day. Often when asked to lunch or other activities I have to decline because I’m busy. I know what comes next: “But you’re RETIRED. How busy can you be?” I’m not a violent person but when someone asks me “what on earth” I do all day now that I’m “retired” I must practice extreme self-control.

A few months before I retired from my office job I launched a small business so that it would be up and running once I retired from the office. It was something I had planned for many years and I thought it would be a fun way to move into a different career. Running a small business usually takes many hours every day and includes weekends. There were times when I put in 16-hour days and worked all weekend never taking a day off. The work was somewhat seasonal and picked up tremendously from September through December. After Christmas it completely died until May. From December through May, however, I prepared inventory for the next season. During this time I also finished my second novel, drafted my third, and started a weekly blog. I organized 100 years of family photos, overhauled my address book, set up systems on my computer I only dreamed of when I worked at the office, and so on. In other words, every minute of every day was used to the max. I was making up for lost time. I certainly don’t consider that “retired.”

After three years I decided to throw in the towel on the small business. This economy is tough for a small retail business and the fees and costs of materials slowly crept up, up, up. (And I needed more time to finish and start books.) I started the retail business for extra income but I was barely breaking even and not making much of a profit because of the increased costs so I stopped. Plus it was taking more time that I wanted. Did I retire--again? No.

Next I launched into house projects. In fact, for years I maintained a list of things I wanted to do to my house. Weekends never provided me with enough time for the really big jobs when I had my office job. Besides, when I did the 8 to 5 routine I had laundry, grocery shopping, bills to pay, kids to scream at, etc. I bought this house new sixteen years ago and started making lists of things I needed to do. I never had time (or money) to “decorate” it but I pushed things around here and there and placed plants on tabletops. My front yard was landscaped but I had to do the back yard. I made several mistakes in materials for that yard (because everything I did when I worked 8 to 5 I did in a hurry) and finally got it right after doing it over a few times---by myself. Over the last five years out of the sixteen it has finally taken shape and is enjoyable to spend time in and work in. It’s a very small space, which doesn’t take a lot of time to maintain but it does require some effort.

I recently painted my bathroom and when it was done the floor looked shabby. It was in excellent condition but looked outdated compared to the snappy paint job. So I ran to the giant home store and bought press-&-place tiles and now the bathroom, which is in two parts, looks great. Guess what that meant? The rest of the house looked shabby. So I launched The Great Painting Project. During that project other projects surfaced and the end result is my entire house is painted and finally organized---sort of. But it took a while because I had too many interruptions because I’m so busy.

Yet, I had to stop a few times. Two birthdays came up in my family and I had a photo album/DVD/scrapbook project in mind for them so everything stopped and I spent MANY HOURS working on the albums. When I worked at the office I would have longed to have the time for such a project but I didn’t. Now that I have the time (sort of) I feel compelled to do things like that instead of ordering gifts online. It seems I’ve turned into a do-it-yourself fanatic.

Friends often suggest coffee or lunch and I have a hard time fitting those outings into my project list. If I get enough notice I’ll meet up with them and I’m always glad I did but if I’m in the middle of a project I just can’t seem to tear myself away from it. Painting in particular is not a project I like to leave exposed for a long period of time. Not long ago I painted my bedroom and during the middle of the project something urgent came up and it took me a couple of weeks to get back to my painting. Because I knew I’d be away from it for a while I spent several hours thoroughly cleaning my brushes and pads and putting the entire mess away in the garage. After the two-week interruption I pulled everything out again and realized it was a big pain to do that. So now unless someone has a medical emergency once I start a painting project I’m not going anywhere until it’s done. I also learned that being away from it for a couple of weeks made it harder to start again. I’d lost interest (with half the bedroom painted). Lesson learned.

My kids are both in their 30s and as each Sunday draws near I hear the familiar groans about the work week looming large. We call it “Sunday Night Anxiety.” They hadn’t finished all of their shopping for the week, nor the laundry, they both had mail they still needed to sort through, things to do around their homes, and they just ran out of time. Sometimes my daughter tells me I’m lucky because I’m retired. She’s right. I am lucky that I have a pension and could retire from the office and not live under a bridge. But that isn’t what she means. She thinks I have all the time in the world to lounge around and relax and do nothing. I’m busier now than when I worked.

Even after I dumped my small retail business I never stopped doing things. The difference now is I work from early in the morning until late at night on projects instead of 8 to 5 and on weekends. I took more time off for recreation when I had my office job all those years. I went more places and spent more time away from the house. Forced labor in the office all week propelled me out into the world on weekends. Now it takes dynamite to tear me away from home. I also have two dogs and we walk every day. It’s good for them and good for me. It takes almost two hours. When I worked the dog I had then was lucky to get a quick walk around the block---on the weekend.

And there’s the difference. I have the time to do what I want and I make sure I cram every minute of every day with stuff I like to do or need to do. Everything I do now is for me and not an employer. Even though it can be tiring and backbreaking I don't care. It’s for me. (I also help my mom out who lives in another town about an hour from me.) For the first time in my life I do things for me almost exclusively (except for mom and the dogs).

The point of all this is: I haven’t stopped participating in life. I do know how to relax and I do have portions of each day that I devote to reading or watching a movie or a bubble bath. But for the most part I’m “at it” every morning. Early. One would think that with all this crazed activity I’d have a perfectly organized home. I don't. Most of it is neat and tidy but my “office” was a disaster until just a few months ago and my garage is jammed packed full. Most of the items can be sent to the dump but I haven’t had the time to deal with the garage. It’s because my list is so long. And not only is it long, I add things to it on a regular basis.

So why do people ask me what I do all day? The concept of “retirement” needs an overhaul. Today’s seniors, at least the ones in my group, are active and full of spunk. It drives me nuts when working friends say they don’t know what they’ll do all day when they retire. The answer: don’t retire. Just shift employment duties to the home front and develop a personal life. We are more than employees. We are vibrant, active, industrious people. We only retire from the 8 to 5, not the 24/7.

I’m NOT retired from life, just the office. If you value your safety, don’t ask me what on earth I do all day.

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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Bunny + Turtle = ?

2011-04-17T07:37:00.000-07:00

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When I was a child I had a form of dyslexia. Sadly, I was not diagnosed and instead was routinely scolded by teachers and my father. I had potential, they would tell me. I was smart, why didn’t I pay attention? Why didn’t I do my homework? I was constantly grounded for poor grades. I hated going to school some days if we had certain types of tests, and on it goes. Throughout my childhood going to school was heart wrenching for me. It didn’t turn around until ninth grade. That’s a very long time for a child to live under the label of “stupid” and the furrowed brow of one’s father.

I didn’t learn about dyslexia until I was a young adult. And when I did learn about it my particular type of dyslexia wasn’t listed so I still didn’t have any idea why I struggled so. My problem seemed so similar to those with dyslexia. I had then, and still have to this day, the most complex and amazing disability/disorder when it comes to numbers. I can’t calculate.

I can memorize long strings of numbers. I know all my bank account numbers, my Social Security number, telephone numbers from the ‘40s, PIN numbers, computer passwords with numbers, dog license numbers, medical numbers, birthdays of people I haven’t seen in 50 years, you name it. And I’m a computer geek and have been for years. Nothing gets by me and I usually can figure out the most frustrating computer problem and often use the most complicated software. I help everyone with their computer issues. But when I work with numbers I have to employ a little trick because I do not see the numbers easily. Instead, years of practice turned all my numbers into words. I don’t see 707-555-1234, I see seven oh seven five five five one two three four. Even typing this sentence astonishes me.

The advent of computer programs for bookkeeping and banking saves me hours of tedious book work. I can’t calculate and I can’t hold numbers in my head. Only for seconds at a time. They simply will not stick there long enough for me to add or subtract or do even the most rudimentary calculation. I must use a calculator for the most basic arithmetic. Leaving a tip has become an art form with me and I always over tip because it’s easier to calculate 20% than 15%.

People with disabilities often learn to compensate so that they can function in the world. I learned early on that seeing the numbers as words would get me by. But not at test time. During a test I needed to have basic calculation skills but I was driving myself further and further away from that and using my trick with word replacement. Try calculating a couple of words sometime. Bunny plus turtle equals . . . crud.

I actually was tested in later years after I explained to a college teacher (adult night classes) that I felt I had a type of dyslexia. She absolutely agreed when she asked me a few questions and arranged for the test. It was determined I have a form of dyslexia called dyscalculia, a lesser known disability of the dyslexia “family.”

The term refers to an impairment of the ability to solve mathematical problems. It spans the whole IQ range, and some sufferers often also have difficulties with time, measurement, and spatial reasoning. However, I do not. I always score very high on logic testing and did quite well in higher math as long as I could use a calculator. I understood the operations and formulas, I just couldn’t do them. My favorite afternoon activity is digging into a Sudoku puzzle. No calculation required. Just plug those numbers in where they belong using a little skill and logic.

By the time I was taking my two-year college math transfer class for a four-year college I felt confident. I had a stellar academic record and felt I wouldn’t have any difficulty with the transfer. I selected the least challenging of the required math offerings and bought the expensive calculator and went to class. Very few students were able to figure out how to use the calculator except me. I understood it instantly and helped the entire class. It was therefore a tremendous surprise to the instructor when he called me aside after class one night to tell me I was failing the class. He was stunned. I wasn’t.

I gave him the same story I had been giving my entire life. I didn’t "do" math. Silly defensive response but one I had come to love. In fact, I once took an employment aptitude test and did none of the math questions but didn’t miss a single question elsewhere on the exam. I was called a few days later and asked to meet with the proctor. She had never experienced anyone miss an entire section and she wondered if I simply forgot the section or if there was something wrong with the booklet I had been given. Again, I told the poor woman it was my lifelong math problem. She was so happy with the remainder of the test, explaining my new job would not require much math, that I got the job. That’s happened more than once in life.

I once worked in a billing/customer service office. I felt confident I would shine at the customer service and didn’t worry much about the billing part. Wrong. Eventually my problem caught up with me and I had to prepare a complicated calculation on a bill adjustment and I worked on it for hours and even took it home (it usually took only a few minutes for someone who was not math-impaired). I was .25 cents off. Finally, the deadline arrived and I placed it in my supervisor’s inbox. All adjustments went in that box for her final approval. I quickly moved back to my desk and waited. Sure enough, I heard her howl with laughter then I raced back to her desk. We were both hysterical and couldn’t stop laughing for a few days. Each time we looked at each other we broke down. Why? Because when I handed in the adjustment I taped a quarter to the sheet. We have been friends ever since and in fact will celebrate our mutual birthdays this coming week.

I had to drop the first instructor’s math class and start a new class the following semester. Different instructor, same problem. I dropped it again and took it a third time. Third time was the charm. It was the woman who had me tested and she immediately launched into passing survival tactics and I passed a complicated math class with a C. It’s the only C I got in my two-year program. I often wonder if it was a pity C.

During my research this week I found the following: “Although some researchers believe that dyscalculia necessarily implies mathematical reasoning difficulties as well as difficulties with arithmetic operations, there is evidence that an individual might not be able to manipulate the numerals in addition, subtraction, multiplication and division but with no impairment of, or even giftedness in, abstract mathematical reasoning abilities.” Oh, so true. Me and Einstein.

Around the ninth grade I was assigned to the classroom of an outstanding English teacher. I loved to read and write and she opened up worlds of literature for me that previous teachers thought I couldn’t handle because of my “problem.” I soon became her best pupil and couldn’t wait for class. When the ninth grade ended I was sad to leave her wonderful class but by that time I was a reading and writing addict and it saved my high school GPA in all other classes. My God, I could excel at something! For the first time in my life someone told me I was smart and even gifted. Not stupid.

Today dyscalculia can be detected at a young age and students have many resources available to them. Teachers have learned a slightly different approach to teaching these students. Dyscalculia is still the least known of the dyslexia learning disorders and so it is often not recognized. In fact, when I tell people about my problem it is often the first time they have heard about it and I often see a bit of skepticism in their expressions.

For many years I didn’t know I had a true disability/disorder and didn’t have academic confidence needed to pursue higher education. Eventually I received an A.A. with honors but by that time I had two kids in college and though I’m not good at numbers I could definitely do the math on that one (which was actually logic) and could not afford three of us in college. Something had to give. It was me. But I don’t care. Because I know I’m smart and I flaunt it whenever I can. Like now.

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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