Archives for June 2019

Oh yeah, assisted living is most likely in all of our futures, but it’s already clear that it won’t be your father’s assisted living. Baby boomers are playing by a different set of rules and the assisted living industry is already planning, or should I say bracing for the changes.

Designers of 50+ communities are creating roomier floor plans (cuz we’re bringing ALL our stuff with us), more contemporary furnishings, added workshop and gardening spaces, and accommodation for pets. When we sell the house, that does not mean we’re giving up all our stuff….we’re just going to repot it.

Location is a bigger deal now as well. The next generation of assisted living residents is not going to be happy stuck out in the burbs. They are going to want urban locations with easy access to cultural and dining options. According to a report from Bankers Life and Casualty Company Center for a Secure Retirement, boomers are going to be looking for “resort style of design” when choosing an assisted living or 50+ option.

Golf and shuffleboard are on the outs, but personal trainers, pickle ball and dogparks are on the way in. Boomers are not going to retire so much as go on vacation. And I’m okay with that. I wouldn’t mind living somewhere that felt like every day was a vacation. And you can be sure boomers are going to want to have a say in how the place is run. Governance is not going to be left in the hands of those “who know best,” that’s for sure.

Broad-band access and WIFI….check. Cable TV with the premium packages….check. Closed circuit security cameras….check. These places are going to be bristling with the latest tech tools and toys, because that’s what boomers are demanding. Everything from automatic and individualized temperature control to lights and doors that operate automatically.

Imagining retirement housing 20 or even 10 years from now is not just a fun pastime for futurists. The influence and impact of baby boomers is going to seachange the entire concept of retirement housing.

So cheer up, we’re going to be the Jetsons!!

Jay Harrison is a graphic designer and writer whose work can be seen at DesignConcept. His mystery novel, Head Above Water, is available on Amazon and Kindle. You can also visit his author page here.

My first bicycle was a clunky green thing with a heavy frame and fat tires that were always low on air. The pedals clanked against the chain guard as they rotated and it shook and rattled whenever I picked up even the slightest bit of speed. It had no gears, no style, no anything. The only good thing about it was that when I clothes pinned cards to the over-sized tires, it made a loud and satisfying motorcycle sound. That, and the fact I never-ever not even once had to worry about someone stealing it.

With some fairly rare and spectacular exceptions, I was not a bad kid growing up, and I could never figure out what I had done to my parents to deserve this big, green monster of a bike.

I eventually did get the bike I deserved, though. It was a hand me down from my brother after he moved on to four-wheeled kinds of transportation. It was a sky blue Schwinn that had a sleek and graceful body, razor thin tires and three gears that clicked satisfyingly as they moved through their progressions. Front and rear hand brakes and fiery red tassels dangling from the handle bars completed the pictures. As soon as I jumped on it and glided into the neighborhood, I knew that it was the bike I was born to ride.

It never occurred to my ten year-old mind to name my bike. If I had, though, I would have christened it Freedom, or, better yet, Deliverance because that’s exactly what it did for me. It liberated me from the cloistered walls of my tiny bungalow, delivered me from its cookie-cutter neighborhood. On my bike I sailed off to the grassy baseball fields in Robert’s Park, or the dark, scary labyrinth of tunnels at Robbers’ Cave. I pedaled over the railroad tracks that bordered the city to catch crayfish or net one of the huge cat fish that lingered at the murky bottom of the salt flats south of town.

Bicycle riding was more than mere transportation. It opened an enormous eye in my mind, expanded the way I witnessed and engaged with the world. I pedaled into the world way back then, and I’ve been pedaling ever since.

Scott Peterson was an educator in Mattawan, Michigan. He also taught writing classes at Western Michigan University and was a teacher-teacher-consultant for the National Writing Project.

So much has been written about the impact of baby boomers exiting the labor force, it seems incomprehensible that employers would not be ready and have strategies in place to respond to this major change.

Guess again. It appears that the departure of boomers is taking employers by surprise. All the sudden, companies are realizing the challenge of replacing the knowledge and skills that boomers will be taking with them when they head for the exits.

Why am I not surprised by their surprise? When your generation has been the 800 pound gorilla/punching bag (demographically speaking) for so long, nothing surprises when it comes to the wild and crazy assumptions that society has thrown at us. We’re spoiled and self-centered. We caused global warming. We’re responsible for every economic bubble burst. We’ve run up the deficit. We’re sabotaging our children’s future. We’re sociopaths. And the topper – we’re going to drain the social security fund dry.

Feels like a communal “don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out” kind of moment we’re in right now. However, employers readily admit that in the next five years they will face a significant challenge due to boomer retirements. Now they are starting to worry more about the skills loss than the fact that boomers might be blocking the advancement of younger workers. Some employers are offering phased-in retirement options in order to avoid the inevitable “brain drain.” According to a study by the Transamerica Center for Retirement Studies, 70% of the employers thought their workplace was aging-friendly but only half the workers thought that was accurate.

It’s hard to quantify what employers are losing when boomers begin leaving the workplace in large numbers because you can’t easily measure the value of their institutional knowledge and history. Add to that the fact that organizations don’t know when their older workers will want to retire. It used to be age 65 but now it’s trending closer to age 70.

Better late than never, the hope now is that organizations come up with a strategy to hold on to older workers or at least offer flexible work schedules that might keep some boomers on the job and passing along what they know.

Jay Harrison is a graphic designer and writer whose work can be seen at DesignConcept. His mystery novel, Head Above Water, is available on Amazon and Kindle. You can also visit his author page here.

You might find my retired life rather dull. Deliciously boring (but not bored). This, too, could be yours! For some of us, our work life was intense, and it’s fun to just hang out and be happy cats.

I was thinking about how much I like my boring life, much as I used to like boring politics, when a couple of former colleagues shared a bit of work news with me. That got me thinking about my old job and questioning my decisions. Did I bail out too early?

The answer is no. While I had a rewarding career and was rather obsessed with my job for many years, toward the end, the workplace and all the nonsense that goes on there didn’t seem worth the trade of time for money. I wanted to live differently.

I pulled the plug at age 62 – not exactly early retirement – and went in search of myself. What sparked intense curiosity? What made me happy? It would have been easier to keep working and never face down my essence. At least you get paid to avoid self-reflection. Just keep slogging along and buying more stuff and taking expensive vacations so you have to keep slogging along.

Since I retired, I’ve learned a lot about what I need and don’t need, mostly from the comfort of my living room. My hair is wild. I have one or two outfits I wash and wear over and over. I’m slowly discovering what gets me up in the morning. Aside from golf and nice long walks, I’m excited about food. We cook almost everything from scratch, and it’s tremendously satisfying. I have intense curiosity about dinner. And possibly sourdough, the next frontier.

I love to walk to the library and browse the shelves and think, “What might I want to learn about today?” I rather like the idea of picking some crazy new subject and immersing myself in it. Being an expert at something appeals to me. There’s still time.

Yet, I wonder if I’m wasting my life … that old programming that says produce, produce, produce. These are the same doubts I had when I was working – but now the stress is gone, and I’m doing things that make me happy. All other things being equal, doubt will always be there, but retirement wins.

Retirement can be whatever you want it to be. I prefer mostly uneventful days, but you might seek more action. Find your happy place and go there. As for me, I like to pretend I’m an eccentric Bohemian heiress (perhaps a bit reclusive and frugal) who spends her life dabbling in things that amuse her. And you know what? I look forward to every single day.

Donna Pekar is an aging badass (for real) who lives in California and writes Retirement Confidential.

 

Newcomers in the Westchester suburbs in the early 70’s were usually greeted by the Welcome Wagon lady. She brought gifts: jar openers with local merchant logos, dishcloths and other domestic items. In addition, she organized monthly get-togethers at each other’s houses for crafting sessions.

When my neighbor friend and I attended one of those gatherings in our Westchester neighborhood, countering the standards of a patriarchal society was not on my mind.

Seated in a large circle in a comfortable suburban den, we were surrounded by raffia, which we were weaving into small stools when two representatives of the Mount Kisco newspaper appeared brandishing a camera. The photographer took each of our pictures as we finished our projects. Afterwards, the reporter (who obviously didn’t relish this assignment) addressed the young woman sitting to my right.

“What’s your name?” he queried.

“Susan Brown,” she answered.

“Don’t you have a husband?” he responded in a voice dripping with scorn.

“Yes, I do!” she reassured him.

“Well, what’s his name?”

“Eric”

“Ok, so you are Mrs. Eric Brown. That’s what we need.”

Thus, he moved counterclockwise around the room, carefully noting each husband’s name, allowing me time to consider what my own response would be. When he came to me, I boldly replied with my own given name.

“What’s your husband’s name?” He was quite annoyed.

“He’s not here. If you took his picture, would you be asking him my name?” I countered.

“Well, if you don’t tell me your husband’s name, I can’t put your picture in the Society page.”

“OK, don’t put my picture in the paper!”

Gasps came from each corner of the room. I had apparently committed a big faux pas. Without support from the other women in the room, my neighbor and I grabbed our little stools and ran for the door, bursting to let loose our reaction. Safely in the car with the portent of our audacity fresh in our wake, we screamed on the way home like kids running from a Halloween prank.

It’s been a long time since women’s names were identified as their husband’s. Even more significant advances are now taken for granted, but remembering my small misbehavior reminds me of our progress.

Miriam Russell a retired Professor, teaching travel writing and memoir sessions. This is an excerpt from her memoir, Suddenly Single: A Life After Death.