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 |  A Baby-Boomer STILL alive and living in senior housing...
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The random thoughts of a Baby-Boomer STILL adjusting to life in senior housing (after five years)... Almost exactly nine months after World War II ended, one historian writes, “the cry of the baby was heard across the land.” More babies were born in 1946 than ever before: 3.4 million, 20 percent more than in 1945. This was the beginning of the so-called “baby boom.” In 1947, another 3.8 million babies were born; 3.9 million were born in 1952; and more than 4 million were born every year from 1954 until 1964, when the boom finally tapered off. By then, there were 76.4 million “baby boomers” in the United States. They made up almost 40 percent of the nation’s population. - www.history.com |
| Ugh! Well, this might be the last entry from here at The Home. According to Doom-and-Gloom Earl and various media outlets, the world is ending tomorrow. That means I’m having an extra smoke today. And I’m not doing my dishes. Here’s to a quiet weekend. Life is good. (But, just in case: Life WAS good.) |
| Ugh! I went for my new driver’s license yesterday. Every four years here in PA we have to renew our licenses. That means forking over $29.50 and sitting for the camera – not fun. My old licenses sit in my desk drawer – I keep them to keep track of how I’m aging; the pile is not pretty. The main thing I notice is how much more grey my hair gets every four years. When one looks in a mirror every day, the changes aren’t noticed. My hair starting greying when I was 19 – it’s been a gradual process; there’s still a good amount of brown, but the snow is piling up on top of Ol’ Smokey. Speaking of smoking, for the past four days I’ve had only four cigarettes/day – that’s down from my peak of 80+/day a few years back. I know I should just quit, but I purchased a carton last week – force of habit (when I got down to my last pack, terror set in that I’d run out, hence the trip to the convenience store. I bought milk there, too, so it wasn’t entirely a vice trip). I quit cold turkey in 1998 and went smoke-free until Sept. 11, 2001 when I started again. Ugh. One of these days… In the meantime I’m walking better…my sister suggested I stretch before walking to ensure I don’t injure myself. So I’ve done that the past two days and my leg feels much better; I didn’t use aspirin or ice at all. Imagine something so simple to cure me… …well, my leg, anyway. Life is good. |
| Ugh! So yesterday I decided to do laundry here at The Home. I gathered my stuff and made my way to the laundry room; early morning (before 6 a.m.) works best for me – then I have the place all to myself and I’m not bothered by small talk while the washers agitate and the dryers spin. Since I was the first to arrive, I turned on the ancient rotary fan that sits on a high shelf up near the ceiling; it keeps the air moving in the windowless room. Before filling the washers, I went to place my shirt hangers on the garment rack along the wall. Dangling from one of the hooks was a pair of the BIGGEST boxer shorts I’d ever seen! Blue-and-white striped cotton with the elastic band pretty well shot. (Initially I thought it was a pillowcase; the broken elastic nixed that thought, though.) I surmised someone left them in one of the dryers and whoever found them hung them there for the rightful owner to claim. The rightful owner? Judging by the size of the underpants, it could only be one person who currently resides here at The Home: a guy (I don’t know his name) who lives on the first floor. I occasionally see him in the lobby waiting for the para-transit bus to pick him up to take him somewhere; he reminds me of Humpty Dumpty: egg-shaped with no hair on his head (meaning no eyebrows either). He has very small feet – or maybe they only appear small because his pants are so big? And he more glides than walks when I see him moving – I don’t think his feet actually leave the ground as he moves to and fro. I thought of taking the drawers to his apartment but decided against that. I would hate if one of my neighbors knocked on my door and said, “Did you lose this in the dryer?” and it would be a pair of my briefs. Ugh! The humiliation… Besides, I didn’t want to touch them. While I waited for my clothes to finish, I read my Kindle, but the entire time I could see those gargantuan boxers wafting a few feet away in my peripheral vision (I was at the part in “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” where Stowe was describing the “billowy” curtains and bed linens in dying Eva’s bedroom – yes! My mind played tricks with me). It was unsettling. After my clothes were folded and safely secured, I checked my washers and dryers THREE times to make sure I hadn’t left anything incriminating behind. No need to advertise. Although, maybe next time my briefs size will have dropped a few notches what with all the walking and exercising I’ve been doing. Heck, then I’ll just happen to drop them in the lobby one day. Life is good. |
| Ugh! For the past few weeks I’ve been tracking “tree stuff” into my apartment when I come back to The Home from my walks – you know the detritus that falls each spring onto streets, cars, yards and sidewalks. As a result I’ve had to vacuum my place every other day even though I stomp and wipe my feet before entering. Yesterday I had to change the dirt bag on the vacuum – first I had to find my stash of replacement bags; they were not where they should have been, but I did find them. Inserted the new bag, turned on the vacuum and no suction…sigh! I’m not mechanically inclined; I was tempted to just toss the thing into the dumpster and go purchase a new one, but there must have been a simple explanation as to why it did this to me (as if it was exacting revenge for some reason). I Googled [brand name] vacuum repairs for my area and got a listing for a place almost 50 miles away…ugh! So I decided to let it “rest” for a while to see if it was just having a hissy fit of some sort. It might have reacted to overuse the past few weeks; it’s not used to that schedule…I’m sure it has been quite content to sit in the dark closet for weeks at a time without having to put forth any effort, then along I came with this crazy idea to walk to lose weight and with that plan the introduction of tree scum onto the carpeting hence the excess use of said vacuum and the resultant vacuum revolt. I won’t stand for insubordination here at The Home. I have the Navy Seals on speed dial… Just kidding – my phone can’t handle speed dial. Last night before heading into bed, I tried it again. It purred and inhaled just fine. Life is good. |
| Ugh! Two new people moved in over the weekend here at The Home: Beatrice and Edith. They’re not only side-by-side neighbors on the second floor, they’re sisters (I’m assuming familial-wise, not nun-wise, but I could be wrong). I don’t know how they managed to swing that deal, but there you have it (Beatrice’s apartment had been vacant for quite a while; Edith’s just opened up a few weeks ago). I haven’t met them; Complaining Connie filled me in – I’m sure she’ll give me the lowdown on them erelong. Or Doom-and-Gloom Earl will get to them and broadcast the news to all in residence here. And then I’ll have to find out the “real” story on my own. The weather was kind of dank and dreary both days – my favorite kind. In spite of the occasional drops falling from the skies, I hobbled around town. Yesterday I roasted a chicken, sautéed sweet potatoes, stuffing, gravy, Brussels sprouts, and a rhubarb pie – Thanksgiving in May; the leftovers will get me through the rest of this week – alternate days enjoying shrimp with garlic, basil, tomatoes, and whole wheat angel hair. Life is good. |
| Ugh! On the return from my afternoon walk yesterday, I came in the back door of The Home. Sitting inside, in the tiny vestibule, was Mrs. Roper. She released the door for me as I struggled with getting my key out of my pants pocket. I thanked her. She said, “Oh, my dear, you look positively flushed.” (My dear? Positively? Flushed? From where does she come up with her phrasing?) I suppose I was – rivulets streamed down my face and my shirt was dark with sweat. Mrs. Roper opened her purse and rummaged inside. “Here’s a moist towelette for you,” and handed me a little square package from a restroom somewhere. At that moment a car horn sounded outside. “Oh, my ride has arrived.” She clasped her handbag shut, straightened her flowing geometric-patterned scarf, pushed the door open and scurried out to the curb. “Thanks,” I yelled after her. She didn’t respond. I still don’t know her name. She flits in and out of Life at The Home. Life is good. |
| Ugh! And ouch! On my afternoon walk of last Thursday, I miscalculated my stride as I stepped up onto a higher-than-normal sidewalk. I ended up stretching my right leg farther than I should have. As soon as I did it, I felt a pull in my thigh. “Uh-oh.” I didn’t think much more about it and continued my stroll back to The Home. It wasn’t until I got up during the night to pee that I felt pain. Ouch. OUCH. Methinks my hamstring is strained. Initially I thought it might be my hip – it could happen at my age (and it might make me feel more at home here at The Home!); but as I walked Friday morning, I tried to pinpoint where the pain was centered: it’s either muscular or tendonal or sinewic. In any case it hurts. I prop my leg on my ottoman whilst viewing TV and I ice it (with a bag of frozen green beans). I suppose I should contact my primary care physician to discuss the matter since this is now a week of discomfort, but I’m going to give it a few more days. My hope is to heal myself. (Dream on!) As a result, my vigorous walking routine has been sidelined by about 20 percent. Boo. Hobble. On the losing weight front, I seem to have hit a plateau. Either that or my new scale is stuck. I hope it’s the latter. Soon, though, I’ll be able to wear shorts and t-shirt outside for my getting-fewer-by-the-week smokes without fearing nasty comments from fellow Home-ites. Woo-hoo! Life is good. |
| Ugh! Well, yesterday was the second Tuesday of the month – Vera time. I didn’t make it to the session. After the last few times with the “activity director” either having a lame activity or not showing up, I opted to pass on this month – besides the weather was gorgeous. I’m sure Angie and Irene will fill me in on what I missed – if anything. In its stead, when I returned from my walk, I watched the “Mister Ed” episode where he tries to get adopted by Mae West. Mr. Ed shows up on her doorstep wearing a baby cap and has a horse-sized pacifier in his mouth; around his neck is his own hand-painted sign announcing his availability for adoption since he’s been abandoned. Ms. West played her part to the hilt – complete with her bawdy (well, for 60s TV shows) one-liners. Mr. Ed hopes “…Mae West might come up and shoe him sometime.” I think I made the right choice in what to do yesterday. There’s always next month to look forward to with Vera... Life is good. |
| Ugh! Beautiful seasonal (read springy) day here at The Home yesterday: cloudless, azure skies; bright sunshine; mid-70s; the scent of lilies of the valley in the air; chirping birdies; skittering squirrels… …and the sight of Larry in his fluorescent lime green Bermuda shorts and flip flops (no shirt) reclining in a lawn chair in one of the handicapped slots in the parking lot. It was almost perfect. Life is good. |
| Ugh! Quiet weekend here at The Home – Mother’s Day passed uneventfully. Except for Complaining Connie – she groused to me that her daughter doesn’t visit: “Since she’s with Butch, she doesn’t have time for me.” I didn’t respond because I have my own ideas why she gets no visits: her daughter doesn’t want to hear all the misery rants! So I just nodded, finished my smoke, scratched Rascal, and headed up to my apartment. There I watched a quirky little film from 2006 – “Sixty Six” – it’s a British film: during the summer of 1966, 12-year-old Londoner Bernie eagerly prepares for his upcoming bar mitzvah, but disaster looms when England snags a spot in the World Cup finals, scheduled for the same day as Bernie's big celebration. Laugh-out-loud funny in spots…sniffle inducing in others. I loves me my Netflix subscription…it saves me from my neighbors some days. Life is good. |
| Ugh! I came back from my morning walk yesterday and showered after doing my exercises with the elastic bands I bought for resistance training. My walk was extra early because the maintenance people were to install my air conditioner either Wednesday, yesterday or today. It didn’t happen Wednesday, so I thought for sure I’d be on the schedule yesterday. If not, I planned to leave early again today for my morning amble. As I toweled off, a loud knock sounded at my apartment door. I yelled, “Be right there,” which was followed about two seconds later with three hard raps. Again I shouted and wrapped the towel around me to go into my bedroom. As soon as I stepped out of my bathroom, my apartment door swung open and I heard, “Maintenance - air conditioner.” It was Frick and Frack – the maintenance team. The towel clasped loosely around my getting-smaller-but-still-oversized waist fell to the floor as I looked at them. They both looked at me. I looked at the floor. They looked at the floor. I looked at them looking at me. They looked at me looking at them looking at me looking at them. All the looking got to me. I said, “Excuse me,” and dashed into my bedroom to don clothing. “Put it in the living room window,” I yelled to F and F. They grunted and placed the air conditioner in the window, screwed it into place, put weather stripping around it and were done in about one minute. I wasn’t finished dressing and they were out the door. I guess years and years of experience of installing the coolers gave them this advantage. I just wish they’d waited more than 10 seconds before barging into my apartment. It’s not likely that anyone here at The Home would be in a compromising position, but just to be safe, allow extra time for us seniors to hobble to the door. And, they didn’t mention how svelte I’ve become. Drat. Life is good. |
| Ugh! A resident lives here on the third floor at The Home who speaks with an electrolarynx - a voice prosthesis necessitated by a laryngectomy. I have a very difficult time understanding the neighbor when conversing with me. It would seem to me that one would have been versed in the proper use and techniques of using the device; if this person received instruction, a refund should be issued! I guess I get flustered when meeting and my mind races with thoughts of “I can’t understand a word you’re trying to say even though I’m trying REALLY hard to understand you” when I should be focusing on what the person is trying to say. It’s useless to try to read lips in that situation since they rarely move. I do find, though, that if I’m just walking past a conversation being held with other residents, I can pick up words here and there – it just doesn’t work one-on-one with me. It’s embarrassing and frustrating – for both of us. The other day I headed out for a smoke and saw this person in the lobby. I did a U-turn and exited the building via the backdoor. While I puffed away, the resident came around the corner with dog in tow and approached me. I nodded hello hoping that would suffice. No. The little device went up to the throat and guttural sounds emanated. I had absolutely no clue what was being said. So I muttered, “I’m sorry?” and the sounds repeated. Still nothing. After about two minutes of this back-and-forth I got the message: “Do you have a computer?” Ugh. I lied and said, “No.” I was afraid of being asked to lend it out or worse: asking to use it in my apartment and having to put up with miscommunications for hours on end and I didn’t want to say “no” to a request like that, so I figured the easy way out would be to lie about having one. At my “no” the resident just turned around and stomped off pulling the poor dog along. Not even a good-bye. Huh. I don’t mean to be mean-spirited or hateful…it’s just so darned difficult to converse. Maybe I’m getting too old for new challenges? Anyway… Life is good. |
| Ugh! Ever since Easter, Bernie’s apartment door has had a different message hanging each day. Some days it’s a Post-It note; other days it’s a brightly colored piece of paper listing various ailments being suffered by the inhabitant. Yesterday the note read something like: “DO NOT KNOCK!! But do call me at 999-999-9999 if you want to talk. The bird is asleep. This is a medical necessity!!” This morning her Post-It states: “KNOCK LOUD so I can hear you. DO NOT CALL ME at 999-999-9999. The bird is asleep. I had a terrible night. I can’t walk to door. This is a medical necessity!!” One day last week, the message read something about: “DON’T KNOCK!! I took wrong medication. The bird is asleep. This is a medical necessity!!” Not sure what is going on with her, but it sure beats the bleeding Jesus picture she had hanging there for a few weeks. That was just wrong. I wonder why her bird always seems to be asleep. I do hear it cawing now and then, just not in the mornings. Perhaps she doses it with avian Ambien? Life is good. |
| Ugh! I got a new neighbor here on the third floor at The Home. She moved in last week…haven’t met her as of yet, but Sunday afternoon, when I came back from one of my walks, she was sitting in the common area chatting with Doom-and-Gloom Earl. Not wanting to intrude, I made my way through to my apartment. But I overheard DnG say, “…now I’m not saying it’s all bad, but…” I can just imagine the rot he fed her. He tried the same thing with me when I first moved in. It must be part of his plan to indoctrinate everyone who moves into The Home – “get ‘em while they’re fresh.” It’s sad, but there’s little to be done other than ignore him at all costs. Our parking lot is getting to be prime real estate of late. It seems that the residents who expire are the ones without cars. The new people replacing them all come complete with autos, hence parking is becoming problematic. Not fun. Air conditioners are scheduled to be installed in our living quarters tomorrow through Friday. I haven’t decided where to have mine placed. Last year I had it in the living area, but never turned it on. I’m toying with having it installed in my bedroom this year – that way sleeping will be more comfortable. Last summer I spent many sleepless nights tossing and turning attempting to cool off. Weather people are saying into the 80s today – a two-shower day for walkers like me…back to normal (mid-60s) for the rest of the week. Life is good. |
| Ugh! My get-fit-now figures for April are tabulated: 173.37 miles walked 14.8 pounds lost My original plan of walking 10,000 steps per day was successful; I averaged 11,452 steps/day, so that was good news. Being continually active is my new goal. Here at The Home many of my neighbors lead sedentary lifestyles – some due to physical limitations, some due to laziness. According to my exercise diary, I spent on average 90 minutes/day walking. I’m lucky that I am mobile and possess the determination and time to follow through with my physical fitness regime. Getting out and about each day is beneficial in many ways: my outlook has improved; my self-esteem has elevated; sleeping at night is better than ever (no more mid-day naps); I’m eating more (five times/day of smaller portions); and I have more energy. I still enjoy potato chips with my lunch daily and I have ice cream for dessert each night. One noticeable downside: I have decreasing tolerance for the negativity emanating from The Home residents I run into – it’s something I’ll have to work on moving forward. With the warmer weather upon us, I know I’ll have to shorten my afternoon walks – if not abandon them entirely in the hottest temperatures and humidity; we had a taste of summertime last week – I struggled. I’m hopeful this jump start is enough to change my metabolism and will carry through until autumn when I can assume the twice/daily treks up and down the hills of The Home’s surroundings. I’m pleased. And tired…bring it on, May! Life is good. |
| Ugh! We got our round of storms yesterday – no twisters, though, thank goodness. Calamity Cleary on the first floor here at The Home made her rounds in the morning to advise us all to keep our windows closed lest we be blown away. I went for a walk. Well, today is the big wedding. I’m glad the day is finally here; I’m tired of hearing about it in virtually every news broadcast. Didn’t receive any invites to wedding parties here at The Home – not sure if that means I was snubbed or there are none going on. Probably the latter – the residents here are not early risers as a rule…and 4 a.m. is early! Another month winds down this weekend…where does the time go when you’re having fun? Life is good. ____ carlton607 - looking to free-up brain space |
| Ugh! Had to break from my overindulgence in Civil War stuff: “Killer Angels,” a book about the Battle of Gettysburg, and “Civil War,” the PBS nine-part miniseries by Ken Burns from Netflix...plus I downloaded a free copy of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” for my Kindle – that’s to read after the Gettysburg book. Yikes! I don’t understand where this interest cropped up from – I’m not particularly a war person, so it mystifies me why I’m partaking of this stuff. Anyhow, I got “That’s Entertainment” in the mail yesterday from Netflix. I can recall going to a movie theatre to see that when it came out in 1974. I lived in central Pennsylvania at the time and the theatre was still the old movie-house kind with stage, curtains, balcony, velvet seats, organ, and big screen. So I popped the DVD into my player and had an enjoyable respite from muskets and cannon. I have a lot of the movies featured in “That’s Entertainment” in my DVD collection, so there were no real surprises there (well, except for the clip of Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney in blackface – that was disturbing), but at the time of its release (to mark MGM’s 50th anniversary) it had been years since anyone had seen those movies. VCRs and VHS appeared shortly thereafter and I started my collection. No more VHS, though; I’ve converted everything to DVD. I hope technology takes a break now. It’s too expensive to keep up with the latest electronics wizardry – although each improvement is superior to the last. Weather forecasters threaten us with bad storms today. Hope it doesn’t affect my walking… Life is good. |
| Ugh! Well, the sneakers were gone when I walked past the funeral-condo place yesterday. I guess whoever tossed them there thought better of it and cleaned up the clutter. That or the groundskeeping folks were busy. I thought about digging through the dumpster but I had to get back to The Home for a nature call. I’ll keep my eyes open in the local media to see if anything arises concerning a domestic squabble amongst amputees. For the past three days the temperatures have been in the mid-80s here – it’s way too early for that. I hope it’s not a harbinger of summer. Heat and I don’t get along. And I’m too cheap to run my window air conditioner. Last summer I just propped my apartment door open, ran a window fan on exhaust, and pulled in the cool air from the common area. I was able to do that after the passing of Miss Bessie Smith; I couldn’t do it when she was still here – too nosey and prone to wandering/wondering. Besides, it’s against the rules to have pets roaming the hallways. Enough of us seniors meander the hallways. It’s a safety issue. The other thing about window air conditioners: they remind me of cheap motel rooms. And believe me; I’ve been in my share of them – something I’d like to forget for the most part. The weather people are promising more seasonable weather by the weekend. I hope they’re right. Life is good. |
| Ugh! I saw something very strange on my second walk of the day yesterday. On the return portion of my trip, I pass an old funeral home/mansion that has been converted into condos (it’s REALLY big!). The place is quite old; I believe it once served as the home for a local business tycoon, switched to the funeral business sometime during the Depression, and now is housing. Anyhow, I walked past it and I happened to glance at the lawn. I saw something bright red. I’d been admiring the new crop of violets appearing in lots of lawns along my route, so the red stood out. I looked closer and saw it was a sneaker. A left-footed one, to be precise... About three feet away was a green-and-yellow sneaker – left-footed as well. And then a black sneaker…ditto. I looked up and saw a window open on the third floor right above the collection of footwear on the lawn. Could that be the source of the tennis shoes? I kept up my pace and continued back to The Home. It wondered me what the heck was going on – and why only the left sneakers? Was it happenstance? Or was it something diabolical planned to inflict emotional pain on someone? Maybe someone had just had a leg/foot amputated and no longer had a need for footwear of the left inclination? If so, why chuck them outside? Why not donate them? I guess Goodwill doesn’t accept half a pair of sneakers in their donation boxes. I doubt I’ll ever know the story. I’ll check today to see if the corresponding partners appeared overnight. Life is good. |
| Ugh! Quiet weekend here at The Home…no departures, no raids, no parties, no emergency vehicles – just somnolent senior living… There are three notices tacked on the bulletin board in the lobby, two in the elevator, and one got slipped under my door on Saturday announcing a memorial get-together for Susannah, who passed away two weeks ago. Not sure what the reason for the advertising blitz is; one flyer would have served the purpose. It’s going to be held this coming Saturday in the community room. It says lite refreshments will be available. Available – not served, but available. I think that means they’ll be for sale. Someone’s always looking to make a buck. Kate on the first floor usually takes it upon herself each spring to put flowers in the gargantuan planters outside the front door – a pansy, a geranium, a spiky thing, and a vinca vine. Then she goes door-to-door asking for a dollar from each tenant. There are 47 apartments here at The Home; if everyone contributes that’s a hefty profit for her. Last year I offered to assist in getting the plants, but she refused saying, “I like to do it all by myself.” Yeah, and pocket a sizable chunk of change in the process. I wonder if Kate is behind the refreshments. I didn’t know Susannah that well, so I’m probably going to pass on the event. I’ll hear all about it from Complaining Connie afterwards, I’m sure. Life is good. |
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I shall miss your wit and wisdom. Hope all works out for you.
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no pun intended!