Amortality? Not For Me

In this age of Botox and cryonic preservation of bodies, it's no wonder that someone (Catherine Mayer, in #5 of "10 Ideas Changing the World Right Now," Time, March 23, 2009) has coined a new term: "Amortality." "It's more than just the ripple effect of baby boomers' resisting the onset of age. Amortality is a stranger, stronger alchemy, created by the intersection of that trend with a massive increase in life expectancy and a deep decline in the influence of organized religion--all viewed through the blue haze of Viagra."

"Amortal" is Mayer's term for those who seem to "live in the same way, at the same pitch, doing and consuming much the same things, from late teens right up until death." One example is singer Madonna. The idea is apparantly a quest never to get old or slow down, no matter what.

As a woman well beyond baby boomer age, I have had some years to learn to deal with the aging process, and I neither expect or want to live forever. I have slowed down in many ways, and I have no desire to be a human dynamo--or an amortal. Being old has its perks. Those of us fortunate enough to have planned for our "golden years" ("amortals rarely make adequate provision for their final years") enjoy the luxury of not working. I, for one, try to keep active, but I have no desire to be "on the go" all the time, like a few of my contemporaries.

I wonder if the typical amortal knows the joys of reclining with a good book and a view of Lake Michigan on a sunny day? How about the occasional half-day spent at the computer in an old robe and without makeup, bloogging about whatever comes to mind?

I'm all for happy, healthy aging, but it seems to me that some retirees try too hard. The idea of being booked with constant activities, whether bridge, golf, shuffleboard, or even cultural events, to name just a few possibilities, makes me tired. I admit to being a loner with reclusive tendencies, but I do make sure to get out from time to time.

To the baby boomers and my fellow elders, my advice is to relax. Don't slow down too much, but listen to your mind and your body. Do you really want to play bridge again? Are three concerts in a week too many? Are you always tired? I, for one, am mortal, and I'll do my best to prolong and enjoy the aging process. Trying to be an amortal is not for me.

Copyright 2009 by Marlys Marshall Styne

A Comforting Return to Routine

Yesterday I returned to my old volunteer post at the Chicago Cultural Center for the first time in more than five months. My old Thursday morning shifts at the Washington Street information desk were parts of my routine for about two years, and I enjoyed them.

My knee operations kept me away for a long while. Of course someone else took over my regular shift, and I considered not returning. Still, I found that I need the certainty of a familiar place to go. Yesterday, the Washington Street security guard greeted me enthusiastically and brought me his newspapers to read during quiet times. Things were back to normal. Unfortunately, many of the other people I knew at the Cultural Center, including the Director of Volunteers, were victims of Chicago's budget cuts while I was away.

My volunteer job is a no-brainer; I mainly give directions to different events and exhibits, and to the washrooms, the Senior Center, the gift shop, and the Chicago Visitors' Center. I've been told, however, that seeing a welcoming, smiling face is important to tourists who may wander into the building in bewilderment. The building is beautiful, and many of the exhibits are fascinating. I hope to attend more concerts and other activities there in the future.

So I'm overcoming my intertia back at the information desk. Boring? Occasionally, but it's a routine that seems to suit me. I hope I get my Thursday morning schedule back, but if not, I'll fill in when needed. Next up: next Friday afternoon.

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.

A Few Senior Living Notes

My niece, Cindy, left yesterday after a short visit. She managed to hang many of the pictures and other artifacts that had been cluttering my bathtub and one of the shower stalls. A few bigger works still await hanging, but the place looks much better. It was great to have her here.

My real estate closing is over, and I'm relieved. I now have enough money to pay the rest of my considerable fee here.

I attended my first exercise class yesterday, at the urging of Cindy. I am in sad physical shape, but exercising among other elders certainly beats trying to work out with young, toned Yuppies elsewhere.

Our white tablecloth dining room's charm was enhanced this morning by small vases on the tables, each containing two or three brilliantly-colored flowers. I don't know where they were grown, but those flowers seem to foretell the eventual coming of spring.

Home, Sweet High-rise

My high-rise home, The Clare at Water Tower.

Today's Chicago Tribune featured an article, "What's new in high-rise buildings: A Skyscraper designed for seniors," by Tribune critic Blair Kamin. This photo accompanied the article.


For more exterior photos, go to www.chicagotribune.com/theclare.

A Writing Challenge: Winter

As winter seems to keep its grip on northern climes, how about some writing about winter? I've issued a challenge on my other blog, "Write Your Life!" (www.seniormemoirs.blogspot.com) to write rictameters or other poems, but prose musings about winter are welcome too. Let's write our way into spring!

How about some descriptions of winter in those warmer havens where some of you live? Or write about why you love (or hate) winter. Memories of previous winters are welcome, too.

The Final Journey: A Book Review

A review of The Leisure Seeker, by Michael Zadoorian (William Morrow, 2009).

The final stages of life often involve hospitals and pain and invasive treatments as even the most productive, happy life comes to a close. What if a long-married couple decided to avoid all that to take a final cross-country honeymoon trip? That's the premise of Michael Zadoorian's novel "The Leisure Seeker."

Ella, with terminal cancer, and John, with Alzheimer's, leave their disapproving doctors and their adult children behind in the midwest to escape in their '78 Leisure Seeker RV along what's left of old Route 66 to Disneyland. With John at the wheel and Ella as navigator, the couple set out to grab just a bit more of life "in search of a past they're having a damned hard time remembering."

This bittersweet tale is about courage and daring, about crumbling roads and memories. There's humor in Ella's matter-of-fact ways of handling John's dementia, in her attitude toward taking her ever-more-necessary "discomfort pills," in her wry acceptance of what's to come.

This is a compelling book. Perhaps it will make some of today's active seniors consider such a final fling. The book's admirable, courageous characters encourage thoughts about daring new ways to approach the inevitable end and to have fun along the way.

Another Plug for Senior Writing

Steve Gurney, age 43, founder of the Guide to Retirement Living Sourcebook, recently lived for a week at the Paul Spring Retirement Community in Alexandria, Virginia (see my earlier post). His goal was to gain first-hand experience in order to "help families better understand this important transition."I expressed reservations about the usefulness of such a short, temporary stay, quite unlike the generally final move we elders make. Still, I admire Steve's purpose. You can read all about it at http://www.retirement-living.com/publisher/.

One point that Steve Gurney made especially interested me: "The activities director of Paul Spring had prepared a “scrapbook” that includes a one page biography of most of the residents of the community. This was fascinating to read, and it gave me an easy way to engage some residents in conversation. Ask if there is something like this in communities you might be considering – I have seen very elaborate community biographies created by residents."

Of course I have been promoting senior life story writing for some time, but I especially like the idea of senior community biographies or autobiographies. They would make getting acquainted much easier. So far, no takers at The Clare, but perhaps I can get something started.

Self-Analysis Time!

Why haven't I been writing blog posts lately? Of course I was too ill to do anything last week, but that was only a temporary problem. Here I am living in the senior community of my dreams, yet I've been depressed. Perhaps I'll call what's wrong with me "inertia." I've suffered from clinical depression off and on for most of my life, so it's time to come up with a new label for what's wrong with me.

One dictionary definition of inertia is this: "Resistance or disinclination to motion, action, or change." That's my disease, all right. It's like I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I guess part of the problem has to do with money. To move here with my condo unsold, I had to sign a large promissory note for nearly half a million dollars, due March 9. I had visions of being kicked out of my new apartment, although things weren't really that bad. Plan B would have been financially disastrous, but at least there was a Plan B.

So what happened? The condo finally sold, although at a nonprofitable price. The closing is on February 27. With my savings and the condo payment, I'll be able to pay off the note. Good news, right? So why have I not been elated and energetic? For one thing, the business manager of The Clare made an error on a bill she sent; my debt had mysteriously grown. I just got that straightened out yesterday.

After the necessary week off, I went back to my three-times-a-week physical therapy on Monday. It's now more painful than ever. I'm glad I had knee replacement surgery, but it's cerrtainly taken a toll on my feeling of well-being. Will I ever be able to walk gracefully and easily again?

I suppose another thing bothering me has been the finality of moving into a senior residence, even though this is a very nice one. Yes, there are activities, but none that especially appeal to me. The building is not fully occupied yet, so things are just getting started. Have I done much to help? No. What have I done? Too many puzzles and computer games. Some reading, but not enough.

So there you have my "disease": inertia. This is my promise to begin doing something about it. For one thing, I'm expecting a visit from my brother and my niece next week. I look forward to that. Spring is on the way (you'd never know it from today's Chicago weather), and I'll start getting out more.

Finally, I plan to take my own advice: write. Writing helped me reinvent myself in 2006; perhaps it's time for a new reinvention in 2009. Remember my March, 2008, rictameter-a-day project on my other blog, "Write your Life!"? It's nearly March again, so I hope to come up with a new rictameter project. Stay tuned. And I hope to have more to say about senior living here.