I think I’ve discovered the reason my generation looks much younger than our parents did at our ages. No, nothing to do with Botox or face-lifts. You see, many of my contemporaries are really modern-day versions of the Six Million Dollar Man. Obviously, life imitates art, not the other way around.
Let’s start with Hubby and his repaired knee. In July, he couldn’t walk to the front door. When he did walk, his face was crunched with pain and his body bent over. It’s been four months since his knee surgery. He’s back in the gym daily and can do his usual two-mile stroll. Then there’s my neighbor down the block. He has had repair work on his stomach or intestines, (not sure of the specifics). When that healed, he was the recipient of a new knee. Within weeks he was joining the movers and shakers in our social hall.
Years ago, when people’s eyelids began to droop, nothing could be done. People with this condition looked years older than they really were. Today, if droopy eyelids interfere with your vision, insurance will pay to have them picked up. Hence less seniors have the eyes of a hound dog and all the wrinkles that accompanied them.
As my parents generation entered “late middle-ages,” and their arthritic pains and other aches took them off the golf course or tennis court, the doctors gave them shots or medication for the pain. This treatment provided temporary relief, but the pain always returned. Not so today. Today the doctors go "out with the old and in with the new."
One of the golfers I know received one new hip last year, and she is just about ready to get her other one done. Her knee was replaced several years ago. I can name three close friends and two neighbors who also have had these procedures done. It is the "in" thing. More popular than botox! People are constantly having surgery on injured rotator cups or other joint-related damage. After all these “bionic” folks heal, they return to their previous life of “running” around – only pain free! Pain makes wrinkles. When the surgeon removes the worn out knees, hips, and what nots, he removes the source of pain. Hence, thanks to surgery, my generation will become known as the Dorian Gray Generation.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Sinful Senior Community
The other night my active senior community had a Valentine’s Dance. There are two advantages for me in attending a dance in my development. First, the DJ plays the slow, romantic music of my generation, which means my husband knows the dance steps. The second advantage to dances in my community is the DJ play vocals by singers like Johnny Mathis or the Platters all night. Those crooners didn’t scream and groan and call it music like too many of today’s musicians. At our dance, if people wanted to chat for a moment, they didn’t have to leave the room to hear each other. They could hear each other’s voices while others danced to Frank Sinatra’s songs.
During one of the dance breaks, our perky social director – who must have had her training for the job on a cruise ship - decided it was game time – just like on the cruise ship. The game – the Not So Newly Wed Game – was the same as the one played on the cruise ships we’ve gone on. Experience has taught Hubby and me that if the DJ or Social Director makes eye contact with us, we risk being picked – something neither of us loves. We immediately looked down when they circulated the room the other night for volunteers.
The DJ thought he was being funny and asked if there were any newlyweds in the group. He obviously didn’t think he would get a positive response from a crowd where the average age was around 68. One couple responded that they weren’t newlyweds, but would be within a few weeks. They were picked to participate in the game. Two other couples who made the mistake of smiling at the “cruise director” as she circulated the room were also selected. It wasn’t until everyone was on the stage that our social director realized only one of the three couples was actually married. Wow! Is my very nice development in reality a modern day Sin City? The many couples described as “Significant Others” (aka S-O’s) who reside here give new meaning to the word “active” in Active Adult Community!
There are many logical reasons the S.O.’s prefer their status, and I respect and understand their choice not to be hitched. For folks like Hubby and me who are still on marriage number one, the best part of having so many S.O.s for friends is “new lovers” surround us. Their behavior rekindles our own dormant romantic streaks. Normally Hubby would say no to attending a Valentine’s Dance. We went, and he forgot about his aches and pains and danced. I can’t remember the last time my husband did that willingly. He even remembered to buy me a Valentine’s card this year – before Valentine’s Day. I’m glad I live in a Sinful Senior Community. It makes life more fun than printable!
During one of the dance breaks, our perky social director – who must have had her training for the job on a cruise ship - decided it was game time – just like on the cruise ship. The game – the Not So Newly Wed Game – was the same as the one played on the cruise ships we’ve gone on. Experience has taught Hubby and me that if the DJ or Social Director makes eye contact with us, we risk being picked – something neither of us loves. We immediately looked down when they circulated the room the other night for volunteers.
The DJ thought he was being funny and asked if there were any newlyweds in the group. He obviously didn’t think he would get a positive response from a crowd where the average age was around 68. One couple responded that they weren’t newlyweds, but would be within a few weeks. They were picked to participate in the game. Two other couples who made the mistake of smiling at the “cruise director” as she circulated the room were also selected. It wasn’t until everyone was on the stage that our social director realized only one of the three couples was actually married. Wow! Is my very nice development in reality a modern day Sin City? The many couples described as “Significant Others” (aka S-O’s) who reside here give new meaning to the word “active” in Active Adult Community!
There are many logical reasons the S.O.’s prefer their status, and I respect and understand their choice not to be hitched. For folks like Hubby and me who are still on marriage number one, the best part of having so many S.O.s for friends is “new lovers” surround us. Their behavior rekindles our own dormant romantic streaks. Normally Hubby would say no to attending a Valentine’s Dance. We went, and he forgot about his aches and pains and danced. I can’t remember the last time my husband did that willingly. He even remembered to buy me a Valentine’s card this year – before Valentine’s Day. I’m glad I live in a Sinful Senior Community. It makes life more fun than printable!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Sorry Northerners, Blame It on Me
Folks up North have been having a really miserable winter, and I think it’s my fault and I’d like to apologize. Let me explain. You see, when we first moved to Florida in 1973, we had many cold days during the winter – just not as many as we are having this year. (I even remember seeing snow fall in Ft. Lauderdale in 1978.) Back then, each December the tourists wore shorts while my family was dressed in long sleeved shirts and long pants. We have pictures of me sitting bundled up in winter clothes watching my nieces and nephews swim in my parent’s condo’s heated pool. By the time they flew back to New York, they were sick, but at least they could brag they went swimming in Florida.
In the early 1990’s things began to change, which is why I believe in global warming. By the turn of the century, we had heat and humidity 12 months a year with little relief. Oh, the temperature would show some change, from 95 in the summer to 75 during the winter, but the humidity never seemed to take a vacation. The tourists and snowbirds were ecstatic.
The locals – like me - dreamed of the days before global warming when December through February brought a bit of relief from the heat and humidity. The only exception was those whose livelihood depended on tourists. Northern visitors wouldn’t plan another winter vacation in Florida if they were cold while here. Next time, they would head to Aruba or Puerto Rico when they wanted a break from the cold winters up North.
This summer, during Hubby’s and my daily 7 AM walk, (after 7 the tropical sun is too oppressive to walk), I prayed aloud that this winter should be cold enough that I would need to wear sweaters everyday. My prayer was answered and that’s the cause of your weather problem up North. You see, whatever our weather is, the North is usually about 30 - 40 degrees colder depending on the season, which means instead of having icy rain this winter, they're getting all that white stuff.
As I said, my husband was with me when I said my prayer for an old-fashioned cold Florida winter. This morning, as we slid into our lightweight winter jackets to wear during our morning walk, he asked me if I could pray we win the lottery this weekend.
In the early 1990’s things began to change, which is why I believe in global warming. By the turn of the century, we had heat and humidity 12 months a year with little relief. Oh, the temperature would show some change, from 95 in the summer to 75 during the winter, but the humidity never seemed to take a vacation. The tourists and snowbirds were ecstatic.
The locals – like me - dreamed of the days before global warming when December through February brought a bit of relief from the heat and humidity. The only exception was those whose livelihood depended on tourists. Northern visitors wouldn’t plan another winter vacation in Florida if they were cold while here. Next time, they would head to Aruba or Puerto Rico when they wanted a break from the cold winters up North.
This summer, during Hubby’s and my daily 7 AM walk, (after 7 the tropical sun is too oppressive to walk), I prayed aloud that this winter should be cold enough that I would need to wear sweaters everyday. My prayer was answered and that’s the cause of your weather problem up North. You see, whatever our weather is, the North is usually about 30 - 40 degrees colder depending on the season, which means instead of having icy rain this winter, they're getting all that white stuff.
As I said, my husband was with me when I said my prayer for an old-fashioned cold Florida winter. This morning, as we slid into our lightweight winter jackets to wear during our morning walk, he asked me if I could pray we win the lottery this weekend.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Mastering Manuals
Last week’s blog foreshadowed this week’s: frustrations in setting up new phones. COSTCO had a great deal, which Hubby bought even though it meant we increased our phones from 3 portables to 5 plus the two land lines we have. This means we now have more phones than rooms.
Now, you would think that all five phones would operate the same. You would think it, but that just ain’t so. Some of the phones have 3 soft keys under the face, others have two. On some you have to press the up/down arrows to see who called, others have a mini rod to move up or down.
Ever since the massive onslaught of technology – beginning with the VCR – my usual pattern of behavior when we have a new purchase that involves reading a manual, is wait for either of my sons to visit and let them set things up. However, ever since one of them muttered, “you have a master’s degree in teaching reading, surely you can follow simple directions in a manual,” I hesitate to scream “Help,” unless it really, really is necessary.
When Hubby unpacked the box, I suggested we take the easy way out and call a friend, who recently bought the same phone. Hubby announced his intentions to read the manual. He insisted that if his friend could decipher the manual, so could he. I didn’t bother to point out that his friend was a mechanical engineer.
I am proud to announce that Hubby actually did everything – even taught me how to see who called. He set up the phonebook, but I still can’t figure out how to enter numbers. The one job he didn’t do was reset the code for me to retrieve messages when I’m not home. “You did it with the last phone, so you can do it again.”
That page is still open on my desk. All I’ve done is make a copy of the various numbers I need to press to operate the phone from afar. My goal today is to prove to myself that my Master’s Degree was well deserved. After all, if I taught hundreds of students how to read directions, shouldn’t I be able to do the same
Now, you would think that all five phones would operate the same. You would think it, but that just ain’t so. Some of the phones have 3 soft keys under the face, others have two. On some you have to press the up/down arrows to see who called, others have a mini rod to move up or down.
Ever since the massive onslaught of technology – beginning with the VCR – my usual pattern of behavior when we have a new purchase that involves reading a manual, is wait for either of my sons to visit and let them set things up. However, ever since one of them muttered, “you have a master’s degree in teaching reading, surely you can follow simple directions in a manual,” I hesitate to scream “Help,” unless it really, really is necessary.
When Hubby unpacked the box, I suggested we take the easy way out and call a friend, who recently bought the same phone. Hubby announced his intentions to read the manual. He insisted that if his friend could decipher the manual, so could he. I didn’t bother to point out that his friend was a mechanical engineer.
I am proud to announce that Hubby actually did everything – even taught me how to see who called. He set up the phonebook, but I still can’t figure out how to enter numbers. The one job he didn’t do was reset the code for me to retrieve messages when I’m not home. “You did it with the last phone, so you can do it again.”
That page is still open on my desk. All I’ve done is make a copy of the various numbers I need to press to operate the phone from afar. My goal today is to prove to myself that my Master’s Degree was well deserved. After all, if I taught hundreds of students how to read directions, shouldn’t I be able to do the same
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Lost Connection
We’ve been having trouble with our phone service ever since we moved last April. The phone goes dead while I’m talking for no apparent reason. Whenever I report the malfunction to our carrier, they magically reset it from there main office – if there is such a thing - whatever has to be reset. Then the phone works again for a few weeks.
When we moved and my husband first told me he was bundling everything to reduce our monthly cost by $100, my response was, “Is this the same phone/cable company that disappeared for weeks after the hurricanes?”
He said yes, and agreed that if we had problems, when the introductory offer was up after a year, unless they renewed the deal, we would switch back to our old phone service if we had any problems.
Anyway – when our phones went dead two weeks ago, service told me that our phones were not compatible with their telephone service. I pointed out to the person I was speaking with that the phones work 99% of the time, and if they were truly incompatible, they wouldn’t work at all. Then she kept insisting my phones were analog, despite the fact I repeatedly told her that the phone was clearly labeled “digital.” I must have worn her down because she agreed to set up a service call, but at my cost. Then, after more heated words were exchanged, the cost was waved.
When the technician arrived – a week later - he informed us we needed new batteries for all of our phones. “They have to be changed at least once a year. When they’re all low, phone service cuts out.”
We’ve had the phones for more than five years and I think we’ve changed one battery because that particular phone read “low battery” whenever in use and told him this. The technician said we were just lucky. After he left, Hubby told me it was my fault because the phones probably cut out when all the phones are out of their cradles at the same time – something I’m guilty of, which drives him nuts. When he worked, I ran around the house before he was due home and put all the phones back in the cradles. Since he is home, I find searching for the phones gives him something to do. (He does not think this is funny.)
The local store that sells the special phone batteries was out of stock. It seems a lot of the portable phones – not to be confused with cell phones – went dead after the unusual lengthy cold snap we had in South Florida. I have no clue if there is a connection, but I’m glad the store was out. When we told our son the story, he told us it may be cheaper to buy all new phones – the kind that use cheap batteries- than replace the 4 batteries in our present phones.
By next week hopefully our new phones will be in place. Then when our phone service cuts out, an operator will tell us we set them up incorrectly. Unfortunately, she will probably be right!
When we moved and my husband first told me he was bundling everything to reduce our monthly cost by $100, my response was, “Is this the same phone/cable company that disappeared for weeks after the hurricanes?”
He said yes, and agreed that if we had problems, when the introductory offer was up after a year, unless they renewed the deal, we would switch back to our old phone service if we had any problems.
Anyway – when our phones went dead two weeks ago, service told me that our phones were not compatible with their telephone service. I pointed out to the person I was speaking with that the phones work 99% of the time, and if they were truly incompatible, they wouldn’t work at all. Then she kept insisting my phones were analog, despite the fact I repeatedly told her that the phone was clearly labeled “digital.” I must have worn her down because she agreed to set up a service call, but at my cost. Then, after more heated words were exchanged, the cost was waved.
When the technician arrived – a week later - he informed us we needed new batteries for all of our phones. “They have to be changed at least once a year. When they’re all low, phone service cuts out.”
We’ve had the phones for more than five years and I think we’ve changed one battery because that particular phone read “low battery” whenever in use and told him this. The technician said we were just lucky. After he left, Hubby told me it was my fault because the phones probably cut out when all the phones are out of their cradles at the same time – something I’m guilty of, which drives him nuts. When he worked, I ran around the house before he was due home and put all the phones back in the cradles. Since he is home, I find searching for the phones gives him something to do. (He does not think this is funny.)
The local store that sells the special phone batteries was out of stock. It seems a lot of the portable phones – not to be confused with cell phones – went dead after the unusual lengthy cold snap we had in South Florida. I have no clue if there is a connection, but I’m glad the store was out. When we told our son the story, he told us it may be cheaper to buy all new phones – the kind that use cheap batteries- than replace the 4 batteries in our present phones.
By next week hopefully our new phones will be in place. Then when our phone service cuts out, an operator will tell us we set them up incorrectly. Unfortunately, she will probably be right!
Monday, January 11, 2010
Too Much Bursting
Living on a six star cruise ship – what I call the active adult community I live in – has one downside, and that’s the upsizing of my waist since we moved in less than a year ago. Since we didn’t move a great distance from our old home, we still socialize with all of our Florida friends from that location. We relocated to an area where many of our old New York friends, who retired to Florida, settled. Add to that mix, all the new friends from our “cruise ship,” there is never time to say, “I’m bored.” My active social circle has tripled. Is there such a thing as too much of a social life? Absolutely not. It’s just I’ve never learned to handle constant exposure to yummy treats. To make things worse, I have to keep cake and snacks in the house to serve in case we decide to have friends over the last minute – something that was unusual while Hubby and I worked. For me these “goodies” are bad because I’m drawn to “company” food like ants to sugar at a picnic.
When we join friends in their homes – before or after dinner – Hubby is not tempted no matter how delectable the spread the hosts serve. That’s why he’s the only diabetic I know who doesn’t need to take the expensive pills others take. Me? My mother taught me to empty my plate. On New Year’s eve, there was actually one cake per person for dessert. Other than my husband, who only ate a piece of the sugar-free cake, the rest of us had a sample of all of the anything but low calorie desserts.
Last night we had New York friends over for cocktails before dinner. (Diet soda, salty nibbles, and cheese – cocktails just sounds better than diet soda and pretzels). By the time cocktail hour was over, I had nibbled enough calories for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, I still had a meal to eat and after dinner coffee and cake back at my home to go!
Before she left, my friend said she could see that I truly had adjusted well to the major move because I was bursting with happiness.”
Hubby glanced at my too tight jeans. “Bursting is the key word.”
When we join friends in their homes – before or after dinner – Hubby is not tempted no matter how delectable the spread the hosts serve. That’s why he’s the only diabetic I know who doesn’t need to take the expensive pills others take. Me? My mother taught me to empty my plate. On New Year’s eve, there was actually one cake per person for dessert. Other than my husband, who only ate a piece of the sugar-free cake, the rest of us had a sample of all of the anything but low calorie desserts.
Last night we had New York friends over for cocktails before dinner. (Diet soda, salty nibbles, and cheese – cocktails just sounds better than diet soda and pretzels). By the time cocktail hour was over, I had nibbled enough calories for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, I still had a meal to eat and after dinner coffee and cake back at my home to go!
Before she left, my friend said she could see that I truly had adjusted well to the major move because I was bursting with happiness.”
Hubby glanced at my too tight jeans. “Bursting is the key word.”
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Night, Night, Sweet Cableless Dreams
Our new television had a stroke last night. We lost picture and sound. “No signal” flashed its ever-threatening warning that the television needed expert advice. Hubby started by calling our cable company who, after reading the scripted advice without success, told him to call the manufacturer. I was stunned that they, like the cable company, had 24-hour service to guide electronically clueless seniors like us revive their televisions late at night.
I don’t know which one – cable or manufacturer - asked if we had a Wii – an electronic game you hook up to televisions – but Hubby made the mistake of saying, “Yes, our grandkids were playing with one when they were here last week.”
At first, the expert didn’t care when Hubby told him the truth – it was hooked up to another television in another room. The expert immediately diagnosed the Wii, which had been unhooked five days previous, packed up, and was now hooked up to a television in a basement in Atlanta, was the cause of our problem. I guess when Hubby repeated this to him several times in an anything but soft voice, the expert digested what this meant and then read pages from a different script. Somehow, the picture returned – without sound. Neither the cable nor the manufacturer would accept blame for the problem – but the cable company was willing to schedule a service call.
Since no repairperson can show until Friday, we bribed our Florida son with his favorite dinner and he came to see if he could help. He fidgeted with some stuff, unhooked something that begins with a series of alphabet letters, rehooked it up to restore sound until the cable company comes.
I miss the old days when televisions simply turned on and off and had no extra boxes with all sorts of programs attached to them. However, look at how many new jobs all these gadgets have created – like the writers of scripts to read to ol’ folks at 11 o’clock at night. They know we desperately need the sound of the television to put us to sleep. Last night, instead of listening to the television for our bedtime story, we listened to an unknown voice read a very useless script. Tonight, thanks to our son, the news broadcaster will hopefully bore me to sleep once again.
I don’t know which one – cable or manufacturer - asked if we had a Wii – an electronic game you hook up to televisions – but Hubby made the mistake of saying, “Yes, our grandkids were playing with one when they were here last week.”
At first, the expert didn’t care when Hubby told him the truth – it was hooked up to another television in another room. The expert immediately diagnosed the Wii, which had been unhooked five days previous, packed up, and was now hooked up to a television in a basement in Atlanta, was the cause of our problem. I guess when Hubby repeated this to him several times in an anything but soft voice, the expert digested what this meant and then read pages from a different script. Somehow, the picture returned – without sound. Neither the cable nor the manufacturer would accept blame for the problem – but the cable company was willing to schedule a service call.
Since no repairperson can show until Friday, we bribed our Florida son with his favorite dinner and he came to see if he could help. He fidgeted with some stuff, unhooked something that begins with a series of alphabet letters, rehooked it up to restore sound until the cable company comes.
I miss the old days when televisions simply turned on and off and had no extra boxes with all sorts of programs attached to them. However, look at how many new jobs all these gadgets have created – like the writers of scripts to read to ol’ folks at 11 o’clock at night. They know we desperately need the sound of the television to put us to sleep. Last night, instead of listening to the television for our bedtime story, we listened to an unknown voice read a very useless script. Tonight, thanks to our son, the news broadcaster will hopefully bore me to sleep once again.
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