There's Something About Afternoon Tea

An old friend treated me to afternoon tea at the Peninsula Hotel for my birthday yesterday. Somehow, afternoon tea brings to mind hats and white gloves and society ladies wasting time on quiet afternoons, but of course things have changed.

While everyone was well, if casually, dressed on this Monday afternoon (no hats or white gloves in sight), there was still an air of elegance in the large room. Even from the second floor, the Chicago view was nice, but it doesn't equal the view from my own thirty-fifth floor apartment two blocks away.

The Peninsula is described as a "super luxury" hotel, actually quite typical of hotels in this area. I couldn't afford to stay there. Still, this little taste of luxury made me feel good. A small string emsemble played soft music from a balcony, and the service was attentive.

The food was served on the usual three-tier arrangement of plates, and it all looked very good. There were small sandwiches, mini-quiches, pastries, and of course scones with all the usual accompaniments. The tea assortment was immense, and not knowing the difference, except between black and green, I asked what the most popular green tea was. I no longer remember the name, but it was good tea.

The room was well-populated, but not crowded, and I could carry on a conversation with my friend quite easily, in spite of my hearing loss and the fact that my new hearing aids have not arrived yet. My friend has similar hearing problems, although she's more than ten years younger than I. She's still active as a teacher (at Columbia College, Chicago) and a writer. Her world is quite different than mine now, and it was interesting to reminisce.

I guess I'm quite isolated from the local social scene, so this tea was a chance to see how other people live. For one thing, they must be rich. Tea for one cost $38! I guess elegance is fine once in a while, especially since my friend paid. I've survived another birthday, and I hope I'll be mobile enough to celebrate more of them.

Another Birthday!

Another Birthday! I really don't look forward to birthdays anymore, now that the number has crept up (this is my 77th). Birthdays were never very special in my family, at least until my late mother reached her nineties. Then the scattered family gathered to wish her well, at least for as long as she was in shape to appreciate our visits. We didn't celebrate her final birthday, her ninety-fifth, because she wouldn't have recognized us or appreciated the gesture. We gathered later in the year for her funeral.

As for me, I don't remember anyone making a fuss about my birthday. In later years, however, two old friends have made a point of taking me out to dinner on the occasion, one on the day and one the day before or after. I have really appreciated that. This year, one of them is taking me to the nearby Penninsula Hotel for afternoon tea; that will be a pleasant change, although it may ruin my diet. My only other planned activity is getting a seasonal flu shot here in the building.

Not being an especially friendly or social person, I've never had a large group of friends give me a surprise birthday party, and I've never expected one. My few relatives are all in other states. I'm content to be here at The Clare, alone yet not alone. My birthday somehow makes me uncomfortable (my late husband used to give me a card and take me out to dinner), but at least I'll get a chance to talk to an old friend (who lives in the suburbs, by the way). I have no complaints. I've had a couple of good wishes from Internet friends. Thank you. Let's hope that I live to celebrate more birthdays in good health!

Taking My Driving Test

My birthday was fast approaching (actually, it's tommorow), and one effect of dreading the aging process seemed to be postponing renewal of my driver's license. As the deadline loomed, I began to analyze my reluctance.

Despite my accident-free record, I could not just renew via email or take the vision test and a new picture and get an extension of four more years, as usual. I had to take a driving test, which meant that I could not renew my license downtown, but had to drive to the far north side. For obvious reasons, no road tests are given in Chicago's crowded Loop.

There were other issues, too. Do I really need to own a car? It's expensive, thanks to insurance, licensing, and parking costs, and I drive as little as once a week. Am I an old and incompetent driver? I hope not. The "giving up driving" dilemma seems to hit all elders sooner or later, but I'm only turning 77! I still hope to know when it's time to give up, since I don't have a family to decide for me. Anyway, I finally decided to take the test and see what happened.

I realized that, as far as I can remember, I had only taken one road test, on the occasion of my originally getting a license. I started driving later in life than many do, but that happened in the late 1950's. No wonder I was terrified! Would I be asked to parallel park (something I've never been good at)? Would the examiner make me nervous? I approached the exam with anxiety.

The first positive thing I noticed was that senior citizens were allowed to go to the head of the line in the crowded facility where we took our vision tests. I passed that, but what I feared most was still ahead. After a fairly long wait in a line of cars, I was relieved to see a seemingly nice young woman enter my car for the test. It turned out that she was, indeed, nice and non-threatening.

The good news is that the test was easy. I'm good at using turn signals, stopping at stop signs, and observing traffic. I didn't have to parallel park. I managed to avoid the cones when I had to back up (something I don't do particulartly well). I passed, had a ridiculously bad photo taken, and soon had my new license good for four years. I was elated!

By the time my license runs out next time, I'll be over eighty (if still alive), and I may well be ready to give up driving by then. I've already vowed to make my 2003 Mini Cooper my last car. It's easy to get along without a car here in the middle of the city, but I guess I had to prove that I can still drive. I'm glad things turned out as they did.

An Afterthought to my Previous Post

Lest you think that The Clare represents a racist society, I assure you that it does not. We are integrated by race, religion, ethnicity, and any other standard you can think of (except perhaps economically). I suspect that this incident has more to do with politics than with race, and as a whole, we all get along very well.

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.

NFPW Conference Photos

The Illinois Contingent at the Awards Ceremony (left) and the Communicator of Achievement Banquet.

Reflections on the NFPW Conference, September 10-12

This year's conference of the National Federation of Press Women was held in San Antonio, Texas, this year. This is the second national conference of the group that I have attended (the other was in 2007), and I basically enjoyed the experience. However, I was reminded that traveling is tough for us elders. Here are a few observations (not really meant to be complaints).

1. Must the airport experience be so difficult? I understand about security, but the time it takes to personally examine my whole body with a wand because my two knee replacements set off the alarm seems a bit unnecessary. I certainly can't look like a dangerous terrorist, especially at my age. This process may deter me from flying again for a while.

Then there is the long walk from terminal to gate. Of course I'm old enough, though not visibly impaired, to request a wheelchair, and I often did so before my knee operations. Now I consider myself reasonably healthy and fit, but that walk is a real challenge. Whatever happened to those carts that used to ply the aisles to transport anyone who requested a ride? I only saw one, and it was marked for special VIPs, some of whom looked young and vigorous when they passed me. Can't we older commoners have some help? I've discovered that brisk walking for long distances makes me short of breath and in need of a seat, and often there is no place to sit until I reach my gate, or the baggage claim area when I arrive.

What's with the baggage fees? This is my first time having to take out a credit card once each way to pay $15 to transport my small bag. Many carry similar bags aboard, but I'm not strong enough to do that. And the size and number of bags carried onto a full plane are mind-boggling. There have always been too many carry-ons, but the charges seem to encourage virtually everyone to carry on as much as possible. The loading and unloading of those overhead bins is quite a process; one seems to risk life and limb avoiding having a large bag fall on one's head.

2. We stayed in a nice enough hotel, but I was not especially comfortable. For one thing, the shower was in a slippery bathtub without grab bars, and I did not dare take a shower. One slip (and I'm not very sure-footed) could have disabled me for the rest of my life. I had to make do with what my mother used to call "sponge baths," so I hope I didn't have B.O.

Most of the lamps in the room apparently had burned-out bulbs or other problems. Since there was one good working lamp for reading, as well as a ceiling light, I didn't register any complaints. Actually, the most annoying feature of the place was the toilet. I'd always thought that all toilets are pretty much alike, but then I had my knee replacements. My condo toilets were both rather low, so I had to buy a raised seat. Those here at The Clare are of more reasonable height, and they've given me no trouble. Those at the San Antonio hotel hit a new low. They were too low for all but the smallest child. Getting both down and up provided me with real challenges, and when possible, I used the handicapped stalls in pubic restrooms (not very useful in the middle of the night). What was this hotel thinking? I've never seen such low toilets anywhere outside a child care center. Apparently all the rooms were so-equipped.

All this made me ponder, as usual, the "joys" of growing old. Do I really need to request airport wheelchairs and handicap-accessible rooms when I travel? Or should I just quit traveling altogether? I don't think of myself as a fragile old lady, but this trip make me wonder. It's nice to be back home!

(As I said, I did enjoy the conference, although I ate too much. See my other blog, "Write Your Life!" for an account of my awards.)

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.

When is it too Late to Plan Ahead?

During her later years, my late mother (she lived to age 95) often quoted one of her fellow elders: "I don't even buy green bananas." The point was, don't plan too far ahead. I always laughed at that, but now that I'm almost 77 and living in a senior residence, the quotation has more meaning.

When one is young, the future seems to stretch far ahead, offering endless opportunities. Sometime around 70, at least for me, the vista changed. I'm now reluctant to plan too far ahead. With no job and few responsibilities, it's easy to become recliner-bound and oblivious to all the opportunities that surround me. Two recent emails made me think again of the "green bananas."

First I heard from an officer of the Illinois Woman's Press Association, a group of which I am a member. She asked me what I could contribute to the National Federation of Press Women's national conference, to be held in Chicago in August, 2010. I can't help with media contacts (I have none), and assignments that require extensive walking or standing are out, too. I finally agreed to host and introduce a speaker (as yet unknown). Somehow, this event seemed so far away. Unconsciously, I wondered how I'd feel by then. Why? I have no known serious health problems except the usual age-related ones, but I guess I've already seen too much physical decline among my fellow residents to be confident about my future. On the otherr hand, the 101-year-old resident looks great, in spite of being tethered to an oxygen tank. Anyway, I now have an August engagement to put on my 2010 calendar--when I get one.

The other email was more surprising. As I mentioned, this blog was featured in the Story Circle Network newsletter recently, and is now one of six (thus far) member "Star Blogs." The author of the email asked whether I intended to attend the organization's conference in Austin, Texas, next Februry to participate in a panel on blogging. Well, Texas is far away, and I'm going to San Antonio for this year's NFPW conference in September, so I hadn't considered another Texas trip so soon. I'm not that fond of Texas. Besides, these conferences are expensiuve when one adds up the registration fees. airfare, and hotel costs. I tentatively nixed the idea. But then I began to think (I have plenty of time for that these days). Texas is certain to be warmer than Chicago in February, and I have no other cold weather plans. Why not go?

There was a time when I welcomed opportunities such as these enthusiastically, perhaps dreaming of fame and fortune. Money was no object, at least in my working years. Things are different now: fame and fortune have eluded me, and I've grown old. But as long as my mind lasts, why not enjoy such opportunities? My newly-resurrected motto has become Carpe Diem (seize the moment). I don't know for how long I can do so, but full speed ahead! I buy green bananas, too.