Ramsey Lewis Played for My Birthday!

No, not really, but I did have the opportunity to hear one piano selection by Mr. Lewis today, my 79th birthday.

The real occasion was The Clare's "Joie de Vivre" award presentation, with Ramsey Lewis as this year's winner. The award "recognizes an outstanding senior who has experienced the Joy of Living through his artistic and educational contributions to the next generation and sharing of his talents with the people of the world."

The main entertainment was a jazz combo from the Merit School of Music, with which Lewis has been deeply involved. The pianist, bassist, drummer, and trombonist were wonderful, as, of course, was Lewis' piano solo. After a glass of white wine, I finally began to feel that birthdays aren't so bad after all.

Birthdays without family are generally days I prefer to ignore, but this year's reminded me of the big "80" coming a year from now. Now that sounds old! Getting four birthday cards and many friendly greetings helped. As luck would have it, I met a woman, the mother of a Clare resident, celebrating her 93rd birthday today as well, and she looked quite good. And a fellow resident ten years older than I celebrates tomorrow. This age thing is something to contend with, and I don't always handle it very well. Still, I'll remember this year because of Ramsey Lewis!

A Return to Exercise!

Anyone who knows me knows that I've never been the athletic type. Exercise has always been a "bad word," despite my overweight and generally sedentary body. I quit the three-times-weekly exercise classes at The Clare because there were so many things I couldn't do, such as raise my arms or stand for long periods. It was too depressing. The director was very kind and non-threatening, but it just became too much. Besides, it came too soon after breakfast for me to be at my best, whatever that is.

Anyway, I had a new burst of energy, inspired by my exercise-nut brother, and decided on a new exercise program. For more than a week now, I have been going to our fitness room at 7:00 a.m. three or four days a week to use my two favorite machines (actually, the only two approved by my doctor) for fifteen minutes each. One machine is the Nu-Step (pictured above); the other is a recumbent stationary bicycle.

Excercising early in the morning suits me. I've tried afternoons, but I'm either too tired, or involved in something more interesting (even if it is a dull TV program). So far, I've had no trouble being up and ready to go by 7:00. Since I'm always up by at least 5 a.m., this schedule makes sense to me. Besides, I can be sure that the fitness center isn't crowded with both of "my" machines in use. By 7:30, I'm ready for my Healthy Choice breakfast in the Grafton dining room. Since I'm a creature of routine, I think I can keep up this schedule unless sickness or injury intervenes.

I'm sure that this amount of exercise won't end in weight loss, but it seems to be making me feel slightly more energetic. Every little bit helps, I guess. Wish me luck!

Older Animals Can be Active Too!

Remember Cheeta, co-star of those old Tarzan movies? Perhaps you've wondered whatever happeneed to him.

Thanks to a fellow Clare resident who has a second home in Palm Springs, CA, I have found out the answer to a question I didn't even know I had. Cheeta is alive and well, doing abstract paintings in Palm Springs.

Last August, the Clare book club held a Tarzan day. The club discussed Cheeta, a best-selling Hollywood expose purportedly written by the chimpanzee who starred in the Tarzan movies, based on Edgar Rice Burroughs' 25 Tarzan Adventures. After discussing the book, the group had a luncheon of Cheeta favorites, includng Bananas Foster, served by The Clare's Dining Room Manager. While the more "snooty" among you, and among Clare residents as well, may dismess all this as silly, when I found out about it (after the fact), I thought is was a refreshing story. We "art lovers" sometimes forget that art can be fun, too.

Cheeta, perhaps the oldest living primate in captivity, now lives near downtown Palm Springs, cared for by retired singer/dancer Dan Westfall, who inherited Cheeta from his uncle. Cheeta has hius own walk of fame star, enjoys three regular meals a day, and receives two insulin injections daily for his diabetes. Doesn't this remind you of the state of some older human beings as well?

Like us humans, Cheeta is keeping busy in old age. His abstract paintings have sold for as much as $10,000 each (for charity). Great art? Who cares? I think it's an interesting story, further evidence of Jane Goodall's contention that chimpanzees are closely related to us.

The photo above shows Cheeta with his two pantings purchased for The Clare (at much less than $10,000). They may eventually be displayed in a public area, or in the apartment of an animal lover who fell in love with them. To those who scoff, I say, "Loosen up!"

Admirable or Foolhardy: What Would You Do?

One of the advantages of living in a large continuous care senior residence is the chance to meet fellow seniors of all types. One of the most memorable people I've met here at The Clare is Anne (not her real name). When I first saw her, I assumed that she was near death: shaved head, halting gait, negative attitude. She continued to come to eat breakfast with the Independent Residents, of whom I am one, even though she lived on one of the Assisted Living floors.

When I first met Anne, she was complaining about the trouble of selling her downtown condo, where she had previously lived. This was or had been a problem for many of us during these uncertain economic times. The next thing I heard from her was that she was trying to cancel her contract with a real estate agent and keep the condo; in fact, she planned many improvements and changes to the place, which she obviously loved. I admired her for her forward-looking plans, since she had told me she had terminal bone cancer. She takes an array of serious medications, some of them experimental. She complained often of pain, sleeping problems, night sweats, and other alarming symptoms. One experimental treatment laid her low, so she was forced to discontinue it.

Anne is very intelligent, but like many of us, having trouble dealing with the problems of aging and illness. I started to think about what I would do in her situation (she is the same age as I am, 78). Would I have the courage to make such grandiose (and expensive) plans to move out of a care facility while facing an uncertain and likely brief future? My answer would be no, but I can't fault Anne for her decision. I have never met a cancer sufferer more optimistic and forward-looking, not to mention one having so much energy despite her fragile appearance.

On one hand, I admire Anne for her tenacity. She is very determined (and overly critical of everything, from the food to the service to the staff to other aspects of this relatively comfortable place). Few approve her attituude or understand her desire to move out of this beautiful place. Is she being admiraable or foolhardy? She seemed to enjoy telling me about her struggles with her remodeling contractor to get everything in her condo just right. Yesterday, she finally moved out. However, she confided in me that she knew things would not be the same as they were before.

Even so, all the planning and fretting seemed to keep Anne alive. One of the drawbacks of senior living, especially for those of us with no local family, is the feeling that this is the end, the final move. Of course many healthy seniors here are on the go every moment, but some of us are contented to just relax and enjoy easy living. I do that too much. So I guess I admire Anne more than I condemn her. I wish her the very best, which would include a cure for her cancer. Will it happen? Somehow I doubt it, but Anne is certainly a profile of courage and an example of having plans for the future, even a very uncertain one.

Photo: The Clare, from the Chicago Tribune.

Awards Again!

Every year at this time, the Illinois Woman's Press Association holds its annual awards luncheon. In each of the past three years, I've received first-place awards for one of my books: Reinventing Myself, Seniorwriting, and Elder Expectations. I've also received awards for this blog and for various individual blog posts and book reviews.

I've been writing much less lately, so I was surprised yesterday by a first-place award for two issues of The Clare's resident newsletter, The Clarion. The category (one of many) was "Publications Edited Regularly by Entrant," a new category for me.

The judge (not an IWPA member, but a member of the local writing community) commented as follows: "It's clear this is a "home-made" newsletter and labor of love and, despite the fact that its audience are residents and not a professional organization, its features and stories are really interesting, the photos well-chosen, and the organization and content informative and reflective of the active, interesting, accomplished residents." I suspect that this is the first senior residence newsletter entered in the contest (most are newsletters for professional associations), so I was elated. Perhaps this will draw attention to the fact that we seniors are still alive and kicking, and that seniors (the many contributors to The Clarion) can write.

I plan to share this honor with my staff and all the residents of The Clare who have contributed their talents and their stories. For me, this is a labor of love. Now The Clarion goes on to the National Federation of Press Women's national contest, where it will probably be overshadowed by the professional organizations' newsletters, but I believe I've made my point. I'm so glad I began this newsletter, now in its second year. It gives me a sense of purpose and achievement.

Writing careers, even those as unprofitable as mine, need never stop. There is at least one IWPA member (the organization is 125 years old) who is ninety, and several are in their eighties. Write on!

Facing Reality

It didn't exactly come as a surprise, but one of the features of senior living that I hadn't devoted much thought to is the frequency of loss among this age group. In the year since I've moved in, a few residents of Independent Living have been moved to assisted living or nursing care, and two or three others have died.

None of these people have been close friends; it's just that a semi-familiar face (in one case, a man I've worked with on a resident committee) simply disappears, and is soon mentioned in an administrative publication.

In addition to those cases, the number of people transported to the hospital after falls or other disasters is and always has been impressive. I've signed a lot of get-well cards.

Somehow, when I lived among the younger, such things seldom came to my attention. It's sad but rather different when I hear that some old acquaintance across the country has died. That somehow seems less shocking and more understandable. Of course the main shock comes when a much younger person dies. One of my younger cousins died recently of cancer, but that wasn't entirely unexpected.

Here at The Clare, many residents are in their eighties and nineties (the oldest is over 100). We 70-somethings are getting a lesson on what it means to grow old. Some residents are remarkably active, regardless of age, while some seem to gradually fade away. For some, the deterioration is obvious; for others, all seems well.

All this is a bit hard to handle. All I can do is resolve to stay as active as possible (although my main activity of writing and editing is a rather sedentery one) and remain optimistic. If I live as long as my mother did, I'll have eighteen years left, but If I had followed my father's pattern, I would have died seven years ago. I know which I prefer, but the choice is not really mine.

At any rate, I'm learning to face reality without becoming depressed. I guess that's one of the realities of senior living.

Thanksgiving Again!

Last Thanksgiving, I wrote about enjoying a Healthy Choice frozen turkey dinner in the privacy of my condo. This year, I'll be having dinner here at The Clare; the menu seems to include almost everything. This year, my problem will be trying not to eat too much to sabotage my recent weight loss. I still have a lot of weight to lose. I still remember Thanksgivings past, most of them fondly, so I have decided to repeat my 2007 post, also repeated last year.

"I remember the hot kitchen, the wonderful smells, my grandma in her white "cooking dress" making sure that everything was just right. I remember the spotless white linen tablecloth and napkins, the polished silver, the gleaming china and crystal, the place settings arranged just right, no fork out of place.I remember the small family gathered about, just five of us, my father silent as usual, my mother trying to be helpful despite her barely-disguised dislike of her mother-in-law. I remember my brother impatiently waiting for the food, eager to escape to a more active atmosphere somewhere, perhaps a ball game with his friends if the weather was good. I remember sneaking just one more chocolate from the Whitman’s Sampler box that was a holiday tradition. I had no fear of "spoiling" my gigantic appetite when I was surrounded by such great smells!

'I remember my own little apartment kitchen, my husband struggling to cook everything on the tiny stove and in the tiny oven while I tried to find places for all the mismatched plates on the long, makeshift table with the slightly stained gold permanent press tablecloth. The napkins were paper.I remember the crowd of ten or twelve crammed into the little apartment, mostly the single patrons of my husband’s bar who had nowhere else to go for the holiday. Family Thanksgivings had been a tradition in my husband’s family, so this was an important day for him. I was as inept at cooking then as I am now, but he did it enthusiastically. Most of the guests were men, and they ate every crumb of food. We seldom had leftovers in those years. A few guests fell asleep immediately after dinner, usually on the floor if any space was available there.
We continued this Thanksgiving dinner tradition for several years after we moved to our house nearby. It was not a large house, but we filled it with good food and holiday joy for many of the same guests, and a few more.

"I remember the year when we finally ran out of friends to invite for Thanksgiving dinner; everyone had a family and lived in the suburbs by then, while we were still a city family of two. We made reservations for dinner at the Signature Room at the top of the John Hancock Center. It seemed very expensive to my frugal husband, but he ultimately enjoyed the experience. We ate so much at the sumptuous buffet that we couldn’t eat much of the small turkey provided for us, so we took it home (as advertised and recommended). Jules made turkey soup and turkey sandwiches enough to last at least a week. I think we got our money’s worth that year.

"I remember our last Thanksgiving together in 1999. It was also my last Thanksgiving with my mother, who was eighty-eight years old by then and living in a retirement condo in Northfield, Minnesota. My nephew and his wife cooked dinner at their house, and two grand-nieces were there as well. The food was fine, but I remember little about it. My mother lived on until this year, and I always sent her flowers for Thanksgiving. However, I didn’t join her in Northfield for the holiday again.

"I remember mostly that my husband was not feeling well on Thanksgiving, 1999, that he left immediately after dinner to return to the motel to rest. That was very uncharacteristic of him; he was usually the life of the party. I was very worried. He seemed to feel better later, but it wasn’t long after our return home that his pancreatic cancer was diagnosed. He would die in March of the following year.

"I remember later Thanksgivings with a friend’s family, including her husband and her two daughters. That tradition, begun when Jules was still alive, ended when one of my friends’ daughters moved away and her parents began to visit her for Thanksgiving. I understood.

"This year [2007], I’ll enjoy my Lean Cuisine turkey dinner, watch parades on television, read, write, and feel content. I may even open a bottle of Chardonnay. I’ve come to terms with the changes brought by aging and the passing of time and loved ones, and it’s all right. However, I am happy to remember those Thanksgivings from the past and many more, the good and the bad. Life goes on."

Some Uncomfortable Thoughts about Elders

This is the tranquil view from my window on a recent weekend. However, I have felt less calm since I got a disturbing phone call yesterday. It seems that the son of one of my fellow residents took issue with the commentary written by one of our black residents in the September issue of our newsletter, The Clarion, and wrote an angry letter to The Clare's acting Executive Director.

In my view, the commentary was liberal but inoffensive, and it was accompanied by an invitation to submit opposing views; still, the letter writer stated that he didn't want to find this newsletter at his mother's or father's door again. That's all right with me, but I was led to some uncomfortable thoughts. Assuming that this complaint originated with a resident rather than his or her son, have elders become so set in their ways that they cannot abide controversy? Can't they accept opposing views, or anything they don't agree with? Whatever happened to our democratic urge to fire off letters to the editors when we want to criticize something? Do we have at least one closet racist, or at best an arch conservative, in our midst?

I was reminded of TV images of seniors protesting imaginary "death squads" in the health care debate and those praising Medicare while objecting to all government involvement. Whatever happened to logic and fairness? While I have found Clare residents to be generally intelligent and fair-minded, I was caught off guard by that letter. How I wish that the resident involved would identify himself or herself to me and/or write a scathing criticism of the article.

I am a supporter of freedom of the press, including senior newsletters, and this incident, plus the earlier censorship fiasco, made me wonder if we elders are supposed to be sheeplike followers of whatever is the majority position or the senior residence management's view? Without free speech and a free press, life is not worth living, and that is true for elders as much as it is for the young. Let's have intelligent controversy involving logic rather than anger! As long as we have the ability to think, let's do so, and let no young people be surprised to discover disagreements among seniors. Assuming that we all are --or should be-- alike is very dangerous.

The Answer is Yes!

A while ago I wrote, "Are we seniors getting too comfortable?" You may have noticed that it's been a long time since that last post. Yes, the problem is laziness or inertia. I've certainly had time to add posts here, but it's so easy to relax at The Clare. Even though I don't participate in all of the activities offered, I do venture out from time to time. However, I love to read, work puzzles, watch the Cubs games on TV, and just enjoy the lake view.

That said, I want to mention that I actually completed the summer fitness challenge, or so the fitness director says, even though my visits to the fitness center with its machines have been few and far between. What I have been doing is going to the morning exercise class three times a week without fail. That amazes me, since I've never been a fitness buff, or been fit, for that matter. To drag my overweight body to the class is hard, but I'm glad I've done it. Our fitness director, Jan, is great. She knows she is dealing with old people, so she's very understanding. I haven't been able to raise my right arm since an accident in 1942, and I'll never be able to. Jan understands, and lets me adopt the exercises to what I can do. Of course a lot of my peers are far more agile and athletic than I, but no one criticizes. I'd be lost in a class of young, toned bodies, but here it's different.

So what else is happening at The Clare? The Clarion, the residents' newsletter I edit, is going well, thanks to a willing and able staff of about seven. We meet once a month to discuss the contents, and I think The Clarion is getting better and better.

Catastrophe has struck, too. About two weeks ago, a gasket broke in the ceiling over the lounge, sending hot water cascading down. The devastation was huge; the water not only ruined the piano beneath the leak, but ran down a floor to destroy some offices and even down manuy fioors to flood the mail room. What a mess! We have been living with scaffolding and other equipment, but it's being handled well, with interruptions kept to a minimum. I hear the good news is that all this is covered by insurance. I certainly hope so!

I'll try to get back here more often. I'm going to the National Federation of Press Women's conference in San Antonio next week, so that should give me something to write about. Who knows what else will happen in this relatively uneventful, comfortable life? I'll try to avoid getting too comfortable again.

Do We Seniors Get Too Comfortable?

A comment on my previous post started me thinking. Sadie, of "Musings, Meanderings & More," wrote:

"For a while I worked as a waitress in a senior citizens facility. Although I really enjoyed working there, at times I became a bit overwhelmed with the reality of aging. While there, I noticed that too many of the residents became to comfortable with their surroundings and all the conviences that came along with living within one of those communities. They stopped planning and left everything up to managerment. Take that trip and any other that you can squeeze into your budget. And never stop planning...don't nix something that's free and fun, and can easily be trashed and started again from scratch. Stepping outside of the box will do you a world of good..."

Yes, I've noticed how easy it is to relax and do nothing, and some of that is good. However, I've observed that life is so good here at The Clare that it's easy to lie back in one's recliner, enjoy the gourmet meals, and gain weight. I've heard a few compaints on the same subject from other residents. Yes, we have a fitness program, exercise classes of all types, and almost any sort of activity imaginable. We have bicyclists, long-distance walkers, and a champion swimmer among us. No one forces us to eat three large meals a day, including desserts. I still suspect that the majority of residents are doing less than they're capable of.

The time will probably come for most of us that we will need assisted living and/or nursing care; that's time enough to forgo activity. Even at those levels, we can keep our minds active, if not our bodies.

So this easy life has its drawbacks. That's why I have changed my eating habits and resolved to become more active. I'll accept those conference invitations and keep going as long as possible. There's such a thing as relaxing too much, especially at a place like The Clare.

In Defense of City Living

This photo was taken on the ninth floor terrace of The Clare. Yes, we have flowers, and some residents even helped John, the gardener, plant them. I offer this photo as evidence that living in a big-city highrise does not require divorce from the beauties of nature.

Then there's Lake Michigan; I enjoy seeing white sailboats in brilliant blue water from every window, but especially from my living room, which faces east. The sunrise is lovely there too, especially in winter. At any time of year, I'm likely to see skies gradually turn pink or red in the early morning hours.

There are several small parks nearby, with benches for observing nature, human and otherwise. For walkers, the lakefront and Lincoln Park are within reach. For bicyclists there are the lakefront bike paths. The planters in the Michigan Avenue median are filled with seasonal flowers from spring through fall; the tulips there are often early signs of spring, marking the end of the cold season. I realize that some of you southerners are eager to avoid snow and cold, but for me, the changing seaasons are a delight. Summer and fall in Chicago are wonderful times.

Of course, especially for elders, convenience is everything. Every kind of store, restaurant, cultural institution, and entertainment venue is close by, and cabs and busses are everywhere when walking is not convenient or possible. I've admitted before that I grew up on a farm near a small town, but I dreamed of big-city skyscrapers and far-away places as soon as I was able to read. I respect everyone's right to prefer other environments, but please keep your minds--and your options--open. Of course city living is expensive, and big cities have problems. However, for me, Chicago is fascinating.

Life Goes on at The Clare

People keep asking me how I like living at The Clare. My answer is always "I like it," and I do. Still, it's taking me a very long time to adjust (five months so far). There's something about moving to a lifetime care building that seems so final! Then, I am still trying to recover financially from the reduced price I received for my condo.

What's good? The food. I am not and never was a cook, so it's nice to know that three meals a day are available here (although our monthly fee covers only one full meal--I usually work in breakfast and lunch).

We have a Town Car and driver to take us places, but I've used it only twice. It seems luxurious, though. We have a great location; If I could walk better, I could walk almost anywhere I want to go. As it is, I sometimes relax too much and stay indoors, especially if the weather is dreary (which it is today).

We have seemingly endless activities available. I am still exercising three times a week, still at the beginners' level, but those exercise classes do keep me from being a total couch potato. We have excercise machines too; I sometimes use the cross trainer and the stationary bicycle. I haven't joined the book club yet, since I have so many unread books piled up to read (and sometimes review). I have plenty of time for reading, but I waste too much time on puzzles and magazines and TV. Bridge and gardening and several other activities don't interest me, but it's nice to know they're available.

My favorite activity is The Clarion, the resident newsletter I started. I have help from a starff of five or six, and I really enjoy the process of creating the newsletter each month. I'm still trying to get residents to contribute more. Why are people so afraid of writing? This is a building full of MDs and PhDs, so I am sure I'm not the only writer here.

The included one-a-week cleaning service is nice, although I no longer get my microwave oven cleaned, as I did when I hired my own service. I'll have to get out of my recliner and clean it myself soon. Package delivery is prompt and courteous. Mail and newspaper delivery are efficient. TV reception on my new HDTV is great.

I participated in the Printers Row Lit Fest (formerly the Printers Row Book Fair) on Saturday. It was nice to have Bob, the doorman, get a cab for me. I enjoy these fairs, even though I don't sell many books. The main problems this year were cold and rain. I left a bit early.

There's no way to escape aging, but a place like this gives a somewhat unwelcome look at the realities of growing old. The number of broken bones from falls, the number of hospitalizations for one thing or another, the number of knee replacement operations scheduled, the problems of healthier partners faced with the care of ailing spouses, the number of hearing problems (I have one myself) all give me cause for concern. On the one hand, it's good to know that nearby care and sympathy are available, but who wants to be reminded of all these realities? Fortunately, I've never been a head-in-the-sand person. As a realist, I believe I'm in the right place at the right time. Who knows what the future brings?

It seems to me that a lifetime care community is a good choice for someone like me, over 70 and childless. The luxurious Clare is hard for me to afford, but since I can't get my youth back, I'm happy here. Will I be so happy if and when I need to move to assisted living or nursing care? For now, I'll just enjoy independent living and my beautiful lake view and hope for the best.

Chicago Tribune photo.

Success! The Clarion has Been Published

I wrote earlier about my efforts to begin a residents' newsletter here at The Clare. I'm happy to report that the first issue of The Clarion has come out to raves from residents and staff alike. I received an ovation from the exercise class and congratulations from nearly everyone, including the doorman and the desk clerk. I have a new feeling of elation!

So how did it turn out? There are five pages; participation is limited thus far, so there's too much about me in this issue, but people are now interested. This issue features a short article on moving to The Clare, a report from the chair of the Dining Committee, and introductions to five resident artists and their works, from sculpture to drawing to embroidery. The resident interview is my own self-interview (no others were available yet), and four residents receiving honors and awards from various organizations this spring were mentioned. I even promoted the June 6-7 Printers Row Lit Fest (formerly Printers Row Book Fair).

So far, I have found an art editor and seven interested participants, although not all have had time to contribute yet. I'm planning a staff meeting on June 2 for the June 15 issue. I'm optimistic about the future of The Clarion; I almost feel like I have a job again, and I love it!

Thanks for the Newsletter Advice

I want to thank everyone who responded to my request for help as I begin the new Clare newsletter. Fortunately, I soon found Microsoft's Newsletter Wizard, which seems to be fairly easy to use, as a softwaare base for the project.

I want to comment on Steve Gurney's comment. Here it is, in case you haven't read it:

"You do a fantastic "newsletter" with this blog! I would recommend that you follow a similar model for The Clare. If you feel like you really need something in "print," simply print and copy a 1 page summary of the elements that can be distributed in everyone's mailbox much less expensively that will drive them to the site. If residents don't have a computer, they can gain access on the computer in the common area which I hope The Clare has. This is the model that our nations newspapers are following to reinvent themselves, don't revert back to 'old media'."

Thanks, Steve, but The Clare has had a residents' web site for quite a while, and it is largely ignored. Mine (a different one) is the only blog there, and the number of computer users seems small, despite training sessions. Yes, there are computers for public use here. I realize that seniors are becoming increasingly computer literate, and I'm certainly in favor of that, but so far, the Clare group has been resistent. Perhaps I can use a print newsletter to encourage more computer use.

When I stop to think about it, I realize that computers are still foreign objects to many of the older residents of The Clare (the oldest resident is 101, by the way). Many retired before computers gained popularity, and of course none of us grew up with computers. As a person who embraces computers, but still likes to read a printed daily newspaper, I am willing to rely on "old media" for a while. It seems the only way to reach an audience right now. I see Steve's point, but I'm a realist.

The first issue of The Clarion (that's the name for now) should come out in mid-May. I'm hoping that the first issue will inspire more people to join me; so far, the staff is small. I'll report on the results soon.

Learning About Elders

I just attended a meeting of my fellow residents to announce staffing changes and other matters at The Clare. The meeting turneed into a complaint session. I kept my mouth shut, but I had plenty of time to assess my fellow elders. Here are a few conclusions:

1. This group is, in general, articulate and well educated, as well a affluent. (I'm probably one of the least affluent residents).

2. Seniors love to talk--loudly. Loud talk is good for those of us, including me, with hearing loss. But many tend to repeat themselves too often.

3. As with people of all ages all over, there are few agreements on anything among this group, despite the age similarities.

4. Moving into this building has marked a major turning point for everyone, and most of us are a bit uneasy about how everything will turn out. Will the assisted living and nursing facilities ever open? If so, and if we need such help, will it be available for everyone (the independent living apartments far outnumber the assisted living units).

5. Everyone feels that communication is lacking here. I feel that it's not been bad, considering the newness of the place.

6. There are too many pessimists here; I prefer to look on the brighter side. Some seem to believe that the emphasis will shift too far toward assisted living and nursing care.

7. Specific complaints: lack of shower grab bars (I have them) and long waits for food at dinner (I seldom eat dinner here). These seem to be valid complaints, but there were few of them. Most of what I heard seemed to be theories that the sky was falling in some way.

8. Dealing with a group of independent old people who are accustomed to the best must be very difficult. Personally, I enjoy living here.

9. I'm trying to establish a residents' newsletter. I think that should be a wonderful way to let people express their opinions. I hope they are willing to put them in writing.

10. My advice is to give the new management a chance.

Breakfast Follies

I've always realized that no stereotypical picture of senior citizens fits all of us, but I'm not sure I was aware of how far out of the main stream I am when it comes to breakfast. Since I moved into The Clare about three months ago, we have had free continental breakfast in the lounge and cooked breakfasts in the adjoining dining room (part of our food allowance). The former offered a sweet roll, orange juice, and coffee, as well as fresh fruit. The latter offered bacon and eggs, ham and eggs, omelets, oatmeal, and other common breakfast goodies, as well as juice, coffee, fruit, and pretty much everything found on the usual breakfast menu.

My favorite has been the "healthy choice breakfast" in the dining room: an egg white omelet with vegetables, orange juice, whole wheat toast, and coffee--no potaatoes. I often took a piece of fruit back to my apartment, too. I've also had bacon and eggs on occasion, as well as oatmeal with raisins. The only problem is that traffic in the dining room early in the morning is nearly non-existent. The lounge was sometimes crowded; it seemed to attract far more residents than the dining room.

Ever experimenting, the Clare staff has changed the breakfast routine. First, the continental breakfast was served buffet-style at the end of the dining room and carried into the lounge. Now the continental breakfast is served in the Bistro, the casual restaurant eight floors down. A few other things are offered (for a price), but the fruit has disappeared--too expensive, they say. How does this affect me? Well, this morning I was the only one in the dining room. It's obvious that the staff is not going to keep hiring a waitress and cooks to serve me and the few others who occasionally come in.

I was surprised by this breakfast pattern. I had thought elders would appreciate the virtues of a more healthy breakfast, but rolls and scones seem to be the preferred foods. Last I knew, eggs, especially egg whites, had improved their reputation and sweets were on the no-no list. I'm still searching for answers.

Is it money? I doubt it; most residents, like me, usually fail to use up their paid food allowances, and there are no refunds. Besides, this is a group of generaly affluent seniors who can afford almost anything they want. Is it a general dislike of breakfast? Is it the bad reputation eggs have had in the past? Some people may have been warned by their doctors to avoid eggs, but I'll bet they were not told to replace them with sweets. How about a good, inexpensive bowl of oatmeal?

Perhaps the breakfast-skipping habits of younger generations have rubbed off on elders. Some residents eat large lunches in the dining room (not very many) and most concentrate on dinners. I, for one, usually skip dinner in favor of something light in my apartment. I've never enjoyed going out for dinner every evening, no matter how gourmet the restaurant. Too much food in the evening interferes with my early to bed, early to rise pattern.

Will I succumb to the continental breakfast craze? Will I start cooking scrambled eggs in my kitchen? Will I go on a crash diet? There's no chance I'll starve. As with most of the growing-pain problems at The Clare, I look at this situation with amusement and curiosity to see how things will eventually work out. I guess my tastes and interests are even more outside the elder norm than I thought they were. And yes, I support the rights of elders and everybody else to eat as they choose. I should be used to being different by now.

Life in the Fast Lane

I needed to visit my dentist yesterday. My knee surgery and moving and other problems had kept me away, and anyway, I have always avoided dentists when I could.

Another reason to avoid my dentist is the difficulty of getting to his office. It's not that it's far away, but there is absolutely no parking anywhere nearby, and I no longer live within walking distance, at least for me.

Takin g a bus involves too much walking, too. Taking a cab is easy, but getting one on the way home is less so. Anyway, living at the Clare gives me another perk: complimentary transportation within a certain area, including my dentist's street. Keith drives a big Town Car, by appointment, free of charge. He is employed by the building.

We've had this service for some time, but I've never used it. After all, I'm within walking distance of most things, and I own a car, too. Having a car and driver to depend on is not only beyond my budget, but against my middle class sensibilities. Yesterday, I decided to try it anyway.

Now I'm beginning to appreciate the luxuries of the wealthy. What a convenience to climb into a waiting car, get to my destination quickly, and get picked up for the ride home! I could get used to such things.

Confessions of an (Almost) Reformed Couch Potato

I've always been a couch potato: overweight, inactive, awkward, and lazy. I was never athletic; I never participated in any sports in high school or college. I've certainly been prodded by parents, doctors, and friends to get moving, but I've seldom done so. The inactivity brought on by my fairly recent knee replacement surgery only made things worse.

Now I find that this retirement paradise where I live is serious about fitness. Not that anyone forces anyone into any activity, but there's always a list of exercise classes and activities, from beginning to advanced, on the schedule.

Thanks to my visiting niece, who prodded me gently, I began to attend a beginning excercise class three times a week. Guess what? I've stayed with it. I also try to visit the fitness room to use the exercise bike, recumbent cross trainer, even the treadmill, twice a week or so. For the first time in my long life, I seem to be sticking to an exercise routine. Will wonders never cease?

I once owned a treadmill. Along with the recumbent exercise bike that replaced it, it served as a good rack for clothes and as a dustcatcher. I seldom bothered to use either. So what's the difference? For one thing, I have a "now or never" feeling. If I don't get into shape now, when will I? Time may be running out.

Then there's peer pressure. We have a skilled, kind leader who understands elders. It's comforting to see fellow residents obviously older and less fit than I (along with others more fit) exercising together. I'll never be the star of the class, but I can generally keep up. It's annoying and embarrassing to have one arm I can't raise over my head and legs that give out occasionally, but I'm used to those problems, and nobody comments.

The Clare is serious about all this. I had to give permission to contact my doctor (she'll be overjoyed to hear that I'm getting out of my recliner to exercise) and sign an agreement not to hold the staff responsible for injury or death. Actually, I'm more likely to die at the dinner table than on the exercise equipment, so signing was not a problem.

Now, I hope I can keep this up. It's easy to make excuses when I feel tired or sore, but in reality, exercise usually peps me up. Now if I can stop using food to cure depression, my body may have a chance. I guess it's better late than never to give up my couch potato status, but it may be a struggle.

Copyright 2009 by Marlys Marshall Styne

Good Financial News for a Change

Aren't the news reports dreary these days? No wonder I was depressed by the idea of a nearly half-million dollar promissory note coming due. It all depended on the sale of my condo, and there were no takers.

I'm happy to say that the condo has been sold, my note has been paid, and the pressure is off. Worrying about money is a new experience for me, but I hope my worries are over. Now if the state of Illinois can only keep its pension systems going!

Each day, I talk to other Clare residents also waiting for buyers for their houses and condos. I guess I was lucky, relatively speaking. No wonder some of us old folks ask, "What's the world coming to?" No one at The Clare is likely to starve or become homeless, but we feel compassion for those elders less fortunate than we are.

Now I hope that the news reports get better. It's hard for us seniors to recover what we've lost.

Plumbers and Hot Water: They Just Take Time

A week or so ago, my shower spouted one temperature of water: luke-warm. I complained, and a plumber came in to fix it. I asssumed that all was well, but the next day, I discovered that no water came from that shower at all. I have another shower stall, but that one was filled with pictures awaiting hanging on my walls.

Soon my niece came to visit, so fortunately she did the heavy lifting and we cleaned out the guest shower stall. I'd never tried that shower, but we discovered that it worked fine.

Fast-forward a week: today, three plumbers arrived at my door. After a lot of effort and two visits, they got my shower working again, or at least I hope so. Actually, one shower is enough for me, but I prefer the more convenient one. Besides, I may have a guest again in the future.

I'm beginning to appreciate the complications of getting a large high-rise building up and running.