The Story of an Elder Achiever

An 112-year-old African-American man who has lived about half his life in Alabama mental health centers sounds like the subject of another sad tale of senior suffering, doesn't he? However, I was elated to read, in an Associated Press story by Kate Brumback, published in the August 12 Chicago Tribune, that this man, Frank Calloway, is about to have his work included at an October exhibit at the Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore. How wonderful to read about yet another senior citizen following his passion and contributing to society!

It seems that Calloway uses ballpoint pens, markers, or crayons on sheets of butcher paper to "turn visions from his youth into lively murals." He draws colorful pictures of rural agricultural scenes, "with buildings, trains, and vehicles straight out of the early 20th century." Two years ago, the Kentuck Museum in Northport, Alabama, hosted a monthlong exhibition of his works. The works are described as representations of a rural, agrarian South in times gone by.

At the nursing facility where he lives, Calloway, usually wearing bib overalls, draws all day. "That's what he loves to do," said the facility director. Calloway, whose formal education ended in third grade, credits a long-ago teacher for getting him to draw, but it took an art class in the 1980's to get him drawing again.

Still getting around on his own and joining in nursing home excursions and restaurant outings, at 112, Frank Calloway seems to shatter conventional wisdom about older seniors. He plans to attend the Baltimore art show opening, his first airplane ride and probably his first trip outside Alabama. How proud and happy he must be!

Mr. Calloway is an amazing example of the possibilities for elders to follow their passions and remain connected to the world. Perhaps that's the secret of long, active lives.

Photo: by Dan Meyers. Courtesy of American Visionary Art Museum, Baltimore, Maryland

Fighting the Three Plagues of Elders: A Book Review

A review of In the Arms of Elders: A Parable of Wise Leadership and Community Building, by William H. Thomas, M.D. (VanderWyk & Burnham 2006).

As a lover of fiction, including some science fiction and fantasy, I was pleased to discover this book. In our world where, to quote Dr. Thomas, "The truth is all wrapped up in rules, regulations, dollar signs, and self-pity," where "the modern obsession with finding and proclaiming the difference between what is real and what is imagined conceals as much as it reveals," fables and parables may not be generally appreciated, but they have a lot to teach us.

This is a fable about thinly disguised versions of the author and his wife, a Geriatrician (physician), Bill, and a Gerontologist (social scientist), Jude, who collaborate to create "the comprehensive book that would successfully integrate medical and social research on aging." This young couple think they have discovered everything about the care and treatment of elders through their research. Feeling good about their book, but fatigued from their efforts, they decide to rent a boat and spend a month in the Caribbean.

A stormy shipwreck takes them to a strange, unknown land called Kallimos. In this primitive, idyllic society, the elders are the leaders; all the scientific knowledge that the shipwrecked couple bring from the "Other World" is useless there. All their ideas about society and community roles are overturned as they learn how the Kallimos community comes together to protect the elders from the three plagues: loneliness, helplessness, and boredom. The elders are thus freed to pass on their experience, wisdom, and knowledge of life to the community.

With the help of two elderly women, Hannah and Haleigh, they come to understand and appreciate their new community, losing their desire to return to the "Other World." They take on their assigned roles, he as a goat herder, she as a gardener, reluctantly at first, since these tasks seem so foreign to their natures. Eventually, they vow never to leave this simple paradise.

Fate, or some supernatural power, brings another storm a year after their arrival in Kallimos, and they are transported back to their old lives, which they no longer want. Eventually, they accept Hannah's challenge to use their new knowledge to transform elder care in their own world. They discover the sad state of elder care in a nursing home where Bill accepts a job and resolve to improve it.

Thus was born the Eden Alternative, part of "an emerging national struggle to remake the daily realities of long-term care for staff and residents alike." One project involves "Green Houses," small residences for no more than ten elders each, with collaborative decision-making and a more human approach than is usually found in nursing homes. The last chapters of the book are devoted to the realities of using the Kallimos lessons to change and improve society.

I have little knowledge of nursing homes, and I'm not a geriatrician or a gerontologist. Still, I was fascinated by the fable that fills most of this book, and I recommend it to anyone thinking about the problems of aging and caring for the aged. To me, as to Bill and Jude, the revelation of the three plagues in itself was enlightening. As an elder, I'm beginning to recognize loneliness, helplessness, and boredom as things to fight against. And of course I like the idea of treating elders with respect and listening to what we have to say.

See Dr. Thomas' blog, Changing Aging, at http://www.umbc.edu/blogs/changingaging/

Here is some intormation from the Eden Alternative website at http://www.edenalt.org/:

"The core concept of The Eden Alternative is strikingly simple. We must teach ourselves to see places where Elders live as habitats for human beings rather than facilities for the frail and elderly. We must learn what Mother Nature has to teach us about vibrant, vigorous living.

"The Eden Alternative shows us how companion animals, the opportunity to give meaningful care to other living things, and the variety and spontaneity that mark an enlivened community can succeed where pills and therapies fail. It also shows us how real leaders can create a warm culture that is characterized by optimism, trust, generosity and people working together to make a better world for our Elders."

Copyright 2008 by Marlys Marshall Styne

We Need "Bread and Circuses"

I'll admit to being old and jaded, to having a "Been there, done that" approach to life. I seldom get excited about anything these days, especially celebrity antics and other "events" in popular culture. I must also admit, however, that once in a while something catches my attention and stirs my imagination. It's usually discovering a new book that seems to speak to me, or seeing some famous sight like the Parthenon or St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow or China's Great Wall for the first time (and it's been quite a while since those personal "Wow!" moments).

This morning I watched a rerun of yesterday's opening ceremonies from the Beijing Olympics. I was amazed, astounded, and fascinated. Yes, I know that China has a deplorable human rights record, and I can't defend the country's politics. But I'm still naive enough to believe in the idea of all nations getting together in peace for sporting events. My 2001 visit to China, when this year's Olympics was merely the subject of promotional billboards, proved to me that China has much to offer the world.

Still, the surprising thing was how affecting the opening spectacle was. And I find it positive that basketball star Yao Ming, who earned fame and fortune in the US, serves as a sort of bridge between our two countries. I won't be watching many Olympics events; I'm not enough of a sports fan for that, but I can understand the appeal of the games. It makes me think of "Bread and Circuses." We all need our national pride and identity, even though no country, including ours, is perfect (I've never found another that I'd prefer, however).

According to The New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy, 3rd edition. 2002, this is where the term "Bread and Circuses" came from and what it means:

"A phrase used by a Roman writer to deplore the declining heroism of Romans after the Roman Republic ceased to exist and the Roman Empire began: 'Two things only the people anxiously desire—bread and circuses.' The government kept the Roman populace happy by distributing free food and staging huge spectacles (See Colosseum).

“'Bread and circuses'” has become a convenient general term for government policies that seek short-term solutions to public unrest."

I suspect that no matter how jaded we become, we still need to have our hearts stirred by events like the Olympic games and elaborate inaugurations and festivities of all kinds. The costumes, the pyrotechnics, the spectacles: in a sense, that explains the continued popularity of the British monarchy and the various events that can still stir our hearts.

In a world inundated by serious problems, it's refreshing to know that a few things can stir our hardened hearts. For us elders, watching on TV may be the only option, but that's all right. We still need our Bread and Circuses, and I'm happy to discover that I can still appreciate them.

Why I Write

As anyone who reads either of my blogs knows, I love to write, and both blogs occasionally feature mentions of my three books. So is this about making money? Hardly. My books are self-published (POD) books, and that makes them immediately suspect in some circles. Anyone aware of the current state of publishing will understand.

Anyway, my books are hardly best-sellers, and my blogs are not well-known producers of advertising revenue. So why do I bother writing? I suppose it's partly because I am old and retired and have a lot of free time, but there are other reasons. First, I was overjoyed to discover the power and joy of writing, and I want to share my enthusiasm with my fellow seniors. I've made it my mission to encourage everyone to write his or her life story, not necessarily for the public, but for family and friends. Whatever your wealth or social status, you can leave a legacy of your valuable experiences and memories.

Then there's the matter of recognition. Since I have no children or grandchildren and few relatives, I sometimes feel disconnected from the world. I suspect that's a common feeling for seniors, at least for those of us who live alone. It's easy to wonder whether anyone knows we're still alive.

Yesterday, my email contained a really encouraging acknowledgement that I had reached someone. My online friend, Lydia, of the Writerquake blog, (http://www.writerquake.blogspot.com/), wrote this, in part, about my first book, Reinventing Myself: Memoirs of a Retired Professor (Infinity 2006):

"[It's] an exciting travel adventure, a real love story, a condensed but highly interesting autobiography, the wisdom of a professor, a frank discussion of aging – especially concerning a woman alone – and a frank but vulnerable glance from a breast cancer survivor. [There are] picturesque descriptions of condos and classrooms, a neighborhood bar and long thoughtful walks, quirky cats and the value of poetry and writing, tours on every continent, and the expectations for a final residence, where, any careful reader would assume, a framed needlepoint picture of Anne Hathaway’s Cottage will make its home."

At the risk of sounding egotistical, I'll say, "What a wonderful, well-written summary!" Thanks, Lydia. It's great to be recognized and appreciated. I guess it's the hope of receiving such feedback (or any at all) that keeps me writing. Let me hear from more of you.

To see Lydia's complete message, go to http://seniormemoirs.blogspot.com/2008/08/gracious-words-of-praise-for-one-of-my.html.

Update, August 12, 2008:

Another blogging friend, Barbara J. Kirby Davis of The Senerity Room, has just reviewed this book. Here is an excerpt:

"I've just finished reading Reinventing Myself, Memoirs of a Retired Professor by Marlys Marshall Styne and LOVED IT!!! Her book was a pleasant surprise--filled with honest accounts of a life well-lived."

For more of Barbara's review, go to http://theserenityroom.blogspot.com/2008/08/reinventing-myself-book-review.html.

The Tyranny of "Stuff"

I attended another Lifestyle Event for my future residence, The Clare at Water Tower, yesterday. The purpose of the meeting was to present information on temporary housing choices in case our current houses or condos sell before The Clare is finished.

Considering the current real estate market, I doubt that I'll have that problem, but I learned a lot, just in case. My preference would be a short stay in a luxury full-service hotel, but I couldn't afford that, especially with storage fees for my worldly goods.

Anyway, listeners' questions quickly segued to matters of storage at The Clare. The mention of storage bins measuring only 3 x 3 x 5 feet brought dismay and complaints. As I listened, I began to think about "stuff" in general. Why were people so upset? Surely highrise residents won't be storing lawn equipment or major power tools or auto parts. A few pieces of luggage will surely fit into that small bin. Everything else I need should fit into my apartment's small closets.

I suppose prosperous owners of large suburban houses face big downsizing challenges, but a fellow condo resident offered a more optimistic view similar to mine. Why worry? My question is, do we really need so much "stuff"? I admit I hired organizers to unclutter my closets and kitchen cabinets, and I've not missed a single item that went to charity or to the trash bin.

Perhaps one of the challenges of aging that many of my future neighbors haven't yet faced is the need to simplify life, to concentrate on what's really important. Does anyone need 100 pairs of shoes or twenty evening gowns? With the possible exceptioon of film stars and TV personalities, I doubt that anyone, especially anyone over 55, does.

There comes a time when comfort and convenience trump style and pride of ownership. I've reached that time; apparently some of my peers have not. I suppose it's none of my business, but I'd advise those complaining about lack of storage to prioritize, downsize, and relax. You'll never regret resisting the tyranny of "stuff."

Copyright 2008 by Marlys Marshall Styne

Blog News and Statistics

One bit of interesting news and a few statistics:

1. A second favorable review of my little poetry book, Elder Expectations: My Life in Rictameters just appeared on Pat's Place blog. To read it, go to http://atpatsplace.blogspot.com/2008/07/interesting-book.html.

2. Sometime yesterday, the total number of hits or page views for "Never too Late!" passed 25,000. Since that covers the period beginning September 26, 2006, it's certainly no record. However, that seems like a lot to me for a non-commercial blog. It's gratifying to think about so many people encountering my blog. It gladdens this senior's heart. I guess I find joy in simply things, surely a good trait at my age. As I've said before, blogging is fun!

Literary Impressions of Aging: A Book Review

To delve into The Art of Growing Older: Writers on Living and Aging, by Wayne Booth (U. of Chicago Press 1992) is to discover, or rediscover, that the world’s literary greats have had a lot to say through the centuries on the topic of aging. This book, which I recently discovered, is a journey through the literary world by respected University of Chicago literature scholar Wayne Booth (1921-2005), author of The Rhetoric of Fiction and many other books.

From Sophocles to Euripides to Milton to Wordsworth, Byron, Browning, T.S. Eliot, and far beyond, writers have dealt, as we all do, with the challenges of aging and/or the contemplation of it. Toward the end of his introduction, Wayne Booth quotes Cicero, who wrote this in his early sixties: “For me, writing this book has been so delightful that it has not only erased all the petty annoyances of old age but has also made old age soft and pleasant.” As he wrote this book, Wayne Booth added, “At seventy one, which doesn’t feel at all to me like old age, I can say the same to you: Join me, friends, in this distinctively modern adventure, the almost certain journey into old age.”

Beautifully tied together by Booth’s incisive commentary, the poems and prose excerpts in this book are divided into an introduction, “Feeling Older,” and three parts: “Facing the Facts: Losses, Fears, and Lamentations,” “Cures, Consolations, Celebrations,” and “A Further Harvest.” I find it interesting that the “Cures, Consolations, Celebrations” section is by far the longest, indicating Booth’s own positive view of aging. I hope that’s a universal trend.

W. B. Yeats, in “Sailing to Byzantium,” laments in the first stanza, “That is no country for old men. The young / In one another’s arms, birds in the trees / . . . Caught in that sensual music all neglect / Monuments of unageing intellect.” However, he finds solace in his hope to escape, in artistic, non-human form, to a golden bough from which to sing of “What is past, or passing, or to come.”

Lighter and more humorous views of aging are included as well. In “Life Begins at 80,” Frank C. Laubach wrote, “If you survive until you are 80, everybody is surprised that you are still alive. They treat you with respect just for having lived so long. Actually they seem surprised that you can walk and talk sensibly. So please, folks, try to make it to 80. If you ask me, life begins at 80.”

I like that fact that Booth democratically includes some less-than-famous writers: Minnie Hodapp, at the age of 92, wrote in “I Haven’t Lost My Marbles Yet!” “I sometimes feel a bit bereft / Of youthful eyes and ears-- / But when I think of all that’s left / My trouble disappears. / So life goes on without upset / ‘Cause I ain’t lost no marbles yet.” Great poetry? No, but I like Hodapp’s spirit.

With an index and pages of notes and sources, this is a scholarly book, but its appeal should extend beyond literature majors. As Booth says, “You can make a good start on a reading program that can well last for the rest of your life by consulting first the books I praise as I go along and then the booklists provided by the ten works I list following the endnotes. . . . Spend a year on those lists, and first thing you know you’ll have become an expert and people will begin calling you a gerontologist.” However, if you’re just looking for inspiration and interesting quotes about growing older, this book is the ultimate source.

Copyright 2008 by Marlys Marshall Styne

Reminders From a Distant Past

This is a cocktail napkin from the Old Town Pump, arguably the first "singles bar" in Chicago (it opened before the famous Butch McGuire's). It was located in Chicago's Old Town, not far from where I live now, from the late 1950's through most of the 1960's. It was sometimes known as a post-college "rah-rah" bar, where the boys often wore plaid bermuda shorts and the girls, beehive hairdos.

My late husband Jules was a co-owner, bartender, and guiding spirit behind this place; running it was a highlight of his life. It was a part of his life that he talked about until the end. He made many lasting friendships there, and so did I.

I met him there in 1964 (no, I wasn't much of a drinker or bar person, but the Pump was like a social club). We didn't marry until 1970, when the Pump was only a fond recent memory.

During the past two weeks, I have been reminded of the Old Town Pump by two things: a dinner with four old friends from those days (old as in both age and time, although I am a bit older than the others) and an encounter with the Old Town Pump slides, the pictures I took there of parties, Old Town Art Fair celebrations, and other days and nights of revelry. Taking pictures was my way of feeling useful, since a full evening of drinking beer was far beyond my capacity.

The dinner (the same group, with a few variations, has met occasionally in the last few years) was a nostalgic occasion. I believe that four of the five of us met our husbands at the Old Town Pump; one never married. Of the rest, only one has a living husband. Three of us are widowed. Two have grown children; those two also have grandchildren. All but one of us are retired from a variety of careers. All but one of us seems to walk with difficulty; we're all a bit overweight. We are all reminders of the passage of time.

The dinner conversation was punctuated by "Do you remember such-and-such an event or person? Do you remember when (so-and-so) did . . . ?" That brought up memories of the OTP slides, which were frequently shown during events at the Pump. While slides were the medium of choice then, I long ago switched to color snapshots, and finally, to digital photography. The old slides sat in my closet and gathered dust.

Fate intervened in the person of a lovely young woman, the daughter of another, somewhat younger Old Town Pump couple. She found me on line through my books and my blogs, and emailed me to ask about OTP memorabilia for her parents' wedding anniversary--the 40th, I think. Lisa came over to look at the slides, and I gave them to her. She had them copied onto a DVD, with music. Relieved by her help in clearing out my messy closet, I forgot all about the slides until that dinner with the "old guard."

I found Lisa's email address and asked for copies for myself and the others. She graciously agreed to bring over copies, and we watched the presentatioon together. There were the years 1966-68, when I was in my thirties and reasonably attractive--except for one picture of me with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth! I hardly ever smoked. I must have been a bit crazy then. There were pictures of people I haven't seen since the sixties, many of them now deceased.

There, of course, was my late husband, young, handsome, and smiling. In a way, the slides were reminders of the passing of time and of my aging. However, I was able to chuckle at the way we acted and dressed then. It was a different world, one I'm glad I experienced. I'm much different now, and I'm glad that I'm still around to see this DVD. I await my friends' reactions, and I've been told that this DVD may be posted on You Tube. If it is, I'll post a link here. We all need to explore where we've been. Doing so makes it easier to deal with an uncertain future.

Copyright 2008 by Marlys Marshall Styne

Confessions of a Reformed Slob

I've never been a fanatic about keeping a clean house, but once I could afford to hire cleaning help, the problem pretty much disappeared. At least I developed temporary storage places for the books, magazines, and papers that tended to be lying around, and I put them away on cleaning days. I always made the bed each day; I guess I did it to impress my husband and anyone else who happened to wander in. The dirty dishes were always put into the dishwasher.

Fast forward to the period from 2001 to the present: after my husband's death, I sold the house and moved into the condo where I now live. I still have a cleaning woman, but I live alone and have had few visitors over the years. During that time, I seemed to become a slob. I mentioned my messy closets earlier. I seldom made my bed; after all, only I sleep there, and no one else sees it. It's hidden off in the "master suite": out of sight, out of mind.

The few dishes I use tended to pile up around the sink. Putting them in the dishwasher would take only a few seconds, but why bother? No one else would enter my kitchen for weeks on end. Meanwhile, my closets and kitchen cabinets became overstuffed with things I didn't even remember. What a mess! Magazines and books were piled to precarious heights everywhere.

So what bought reform? The necessity of putting my condo on the market before my expected end-of-year move into The Clare at Watertower. No real estate agent would think of showing a place unless the closets and cabinets are worthy of viewing, and big stacks of anything are out. After becoming upset and feeling helpless, I hired an organizing company, and everything looks much better. These days, I usually make the bed, and the dishes go into the dishwasher at least once a day. When the agent requests a showing, the place is ready!

Today, beautiful professional photographs of all the rooms are featured on the real estate agent's web site, and a tiny picture of my living room appeared in their print ad yesterday. Everything looks so good that I'm happy to live here; I will be reluctant to leave.

So what's the message? If you happen to live alone, imagine strangers walking through your place frequently. For me, that has been the key to reform. Now, did I make my bed this morning? I'd better take a look! Old habits die hard.

Copyright 2008 by Marlys Marshall Styne
Photo of my living room from Rubloff Real Estate site by VHT Image Works.

A New Review of "Elder Expectations: My Life in Rictameters" is just out. Find it here:

http://www.storycirclebookreviews.org/reviews/expectations.shtml