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A Little Therapy

July 28, 2024 By admin

golf trophy with blur gold light shotIn the category of strange but true, I won a golf tournament! Previously, I’ve placed in my flight and stuff like that, but this is the first time I’ve finished first overall. The prize was $40 and bragging rights.

Regular blog readers will know competition is my nemesis. I usually have this sense of being judged and struggle with confidence, especially after a poor shot. It’s like, oh, yeah, I knew it all along. You suck. At everything. You’re not worthy.

Nothing a little therapy wouldn’t help, but I believe retirement has helped me overcome my fears. With no job status to bolster my self-esteem, I’m learning that being a decent human being and living a good life is plenty. I’m more comfortable with myself and with the ups and downs of the game. I even said to Dale the night before the final round, you know, I’m not scared. I’m just going to play the best I can and enjoy the challenge of trying to make that ball do what I want.

For me, that’s progress.

I’ve always said my brain is the weakest part of my game, so I definitely think the change in mindset helped me play better. I’m also giving credit to the physical therapy regime aimed at strengthening my core. I’m guessing you are all sick of hearing about that, but seriously, this is a big deal for us aging Boomers.

Although I’ve exercised regularly for many years, I never paid attention to the core. Cancer and two major abdominal surgeries didn’t help. But I’m 10 weeks into working with a PT, who gave me a series of exercises to do at home, and it’s life-changing.

Not only is my lower back and knee pain pretty much gone, but I feel more stable even when I just move around the house. I’m definitely stronger in the water when I swim, and now I’m seeing results on the golf course. I’m not sure how it all works, but I guess a stronger core increases stability, and that translates to more power in the swing.

I get it – not everyone is a golfer, but I’m starting to believe a stronger core is the secret to any kind of an active life as we age. The exercises are tough but worth it. I’m 68 and think of this work as an investment for my 70s and 80s.

All this learning did not prepare me for the photo opp. Granted, this was after 18 holes of golf, but a blow dry in the morning with a little product would have fixed that frizzy hair. It seems I will have to make more of an effort in the future.

You never know when you’ll win something.

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

Filed Under: ESSAY

The Art of Drifting

July 15, 2024 By admin

floating on a stream in an inner tubeI am, perhaps for the first time in my life, consciously drifting.

The word—drifting–has long carried negative connotations for me, conjuring images of lethargy and passivity. It suggests surrendering control rather than seizing it. In my world, to describe someone as “drifting through life” means they lack purpose and energy.

Plus, drifting rhymes with “grifting,” which only deepens its negative associations.

So, when I first realized that I was drifting through my days, I became alarmed. “Uh oh, I better start getting purposeful…fast.” But then I started imagining the “lazy river” section of a water park, where one floats gently on an inner tube, letting the current carry them along. This form of drifting provides a sense of weightlessness and peace. Next, I pictured a log drifting down a river under a warm, blue sky. I began to think of drifting as less about fecklessness, and more about surrendering to the journey rather than focusing on the destination.

Plus, the lazy river is circular, you end up where you started. Is that such a bad thing? I don’t want to be stagnant, but maybe I like the idea of returning home each day.

Drifting is very different from being adrift. Being adrift implies being lost at sea, a tiny speck in a vast, uncharted ocean. In contrast, drifting along a river provides the comfort of nearby shores, making it relatively easy to steer toward solid ground if I really need or want to.

Even as I grow increasingly comfortable with the notion of drifting, I recognize it’s only an interlude. Life’s currents invariably intensify, necessitating decisive action sooner or later. On the other side of the bend, I could be headed toward dangerous waterfalls, or cliffs, or the current might send me spiraling toward a rock. Or maybe I’ll just get sick of the circular motion depositing me where I started every day and yearn for a dramatically different landscape, pace and experience.

At that point, my nature and external events will compel me to make a more deliberate move. It’s just a matter of time.

Until then, I drift.

Johanna Wald lives in Dedham, MA

Filed Under: ESSAY

A Serious Inconvenience

July 15, 2024 By admin

Malawi villageA little over 30 years ago, I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Blantyre, Malawi, working as a Town Planner. I got assigned to Malawi, which is not in the jungle. I was placed in the industrial capital, Blantyre, a city of about 400,000.

I had two counterparts, Luka and Nkoma. Our office had their desks and mine, and I sat across from their two desks. It was a very plain, austere room. Mostly what we did was review plans and get stop orders to take down illegal developments.

One day, Nkoma didn’t come in to work until 9:30. He plopped down at his desk, sighed, and looked at me. He looked disgusted.

“What happened?” I asked.

“My roommate’s girlfriend’s uncle came to town, and it was party all night and I had to give up my bed and didn’t get any sleep.”

“Why did you have to give up your bed?” I asked, inferring that the roommate and girlfriend should have given up their bed.

“He’s an elder. It would have been rude if I hadn’t.”

The next day, Nkoma was late again. He looked demoralized.

“When’s he leaving?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Would you like to stay with me? I have an extra bedroom.”

“No, that would be rude to him.”

The next day, Nkoma was late again, and his expression….

“What?” I asked.

“They were partying all night, and when I got up, I find this guy passed out, and he had vomited all over my bed.”

I gasped. Luka responded, “Ah, yes. It’s a serious inconvenience when someone vomits in your bed.”

I looked from Luka to Nkoma. “A serious inconvenience?” I asked, incredulous. They both looked at me. Nkoma said,

“Yes. What would you say?”

Bummer was what came to mind…

The next day, Nkoma was on time, smiling.
“What happened?” I asked.

“I guess he realized that he had overstayed his welcome. He cleaned up and left.”

People were always asking me how I liked Malawi. I told them I was learning a lot. The most important thing I learned is the difference between a problem, an inconvenience, and a ‘serious inconvenience’.

Robyn Michaels

Filed Under: ESSAY

Media Evolution

June 24, 2024 By admin

person holding a cell phone in their hands, fully focused on an augmented reality game“Yo, Cory. ‘ssup?” I asked. My curly headed grandson, nodded absently, kept wiggling his thumbs on his cell phone. Polite in his way. Afterall, I was barging-in on the privacy of his screen time, his cyber world. Perhaps some kind of impulse of respect for an elder caused him to punch out a couple more aliens in his computer game before saying, “Hi, gramps.”

He lived in another world from mine. Hell, when I was his age I didn’t have much to share with my grandfather, here from another world across the ocean. He let me participate once, when he made wine. Or the time he made sausage, or offed the Thanksgiving turkey. But mostly it was a ‘kid should be seen and not heard’ relationship and ‘shine my shoes.’ I was basically shouting across the canyon to someone on the opposite ledge.

Still, I want to try. He nudged me with his shoulder between a grunt and a fast click. We might connect, go from there. Technology is different for him than it was for me. I used to lock- in and lock-out over my radio listening to Tom Mix and Tim Tyler and Captain Preston of the Mounties who were left cliff-hanging at the end of fifteen minute episodes or out of breath in underground rivers, or…or. Distractions. Imagination stimulation. Did it harm me?

At the very least, I learned patience, that everything didn’t happen when you wanted it to, that you had to tune-in-tomorrow for answers. Obviously, Cory’s computer link-ups demand more physical interaction with the media. But it’s still about looking for and finding patterns and conclusions in the chaos of life with the added advantage of having some digital control of events…sort of.

So, I sensed a connection with him. “Can you show me how to play?” I asked. Cory simply kept playing till the screen flashed a new total of points. My grandson paused, stared me in the eyes, considering. Then he shook his head, slightly, like I was out of his league. Took me back to the time I didn’t make varsity basketball, or was cut from the state finals track team. Engaged online again, Cory, eventually looked up, checked me out. Must have seen my disappointed frown. He put the cell phone in his left hand and reached to squeeze my arm with his right. Times change. Togetherness perdures.

Retired trainer, and writing instructor, Joe Novara lives in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Writings include novels, short stories, a memoir and various poems, plays, anthologies and articles. Read more at https://freefloatingstories.wordpress.com/

Filed Under: ESSAY

Good Problems

June 24, 2024 By admin

Hawaiian flowers leiI haven’t been to the mall in years, but I needed either white shorts or a white skort for a golf thing where teams like to wear matching outfits. The things I do to be sociable.

It’s a Hawaiian theme, and my sister said you aren’t going to wear a plastic lei are you? I said, oh, yes I am. She howled and wants a picture. Fat chance that.

The mall was a complete waste of time. Call me crazy, but I would think this is the peak of white shorts season. They were nowhere to be found. A couple of white skorts were on display, but they looked short enough to display your hoo-hah.

Home I came for a meeting with Dr. Amazon. I guess we brought this on ourselves, but it seems you really do have to go online for anything. I bought four skorts in different styles and sizes. All on Prime, so I was thinking I could send back the ones I don’t want or all of them if need be. 

Panic shopping this week is not my idea of fun. Still, I know this is not a bad problem in the hierarchy of problems.

Good news … one of the skorts arrived this morning, and it fits!!! And it’s a little longer, so no hoo-hah action. The event is Wednesday, and I’m relieved that monkey is off my back. The others arrive tomorrow, so we’ll see if I like any of them better.

Our club is hosting this event, so it’s a big deal, and we all have jobs (in addition to playing). One of mine is to sell mulligans at the welcome table. My sister said, you? Handling money? Geez, so I stumbled a bit with geometry, but I can make change. Oh, and build a retirement portfolio, if that counts.

I’m still struggling with time management. I know important worker bees cannot understand how retirees can be busy, but it’s true. We just have different priorities. My priorities are food and fitness, but chores keep messing with my mojo.

Not that I’m complaining. I feel fortunate to be alive and able to enjoy the simple pleasures of retirement. It took me a long time to figure out how to manage my work life, so I guess it’s no surprise it takes a few years to manage life after work. All in all, not a bad problem to have.

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

Filed Under: ESSAY

Space Race

June 3, 2024 By admin

old abandoned homeSo boomers plan to stay put. That is at least 55 percent of the folks that were surveyed said that was the plan. The are not moving any time soon. The problem is that they live in what’s termed “time capsules” – homes that were built before 1980 and have not been renovated. Seventy-three percent have lived in their homes for 11 years or more.

You’ve probably read (numerous times) that boomers are preventing millennials from finding homes for their families. Experts call it a generational tug-of-war. When boomers finally buy the farm (give up the ghost, cash in their chips, push up daisies, kick the bucket, we could go on and on…but wait, no we can’t), these homes are going to need substantial renovations.

Only 25 percent of those surveyed were planning on making accommodations for aging in place with safety and accessibility features. Go ahead. Picture that walk-in bathtub. Don’t lie. You know the one. It’s the one you see advertised on Facebook and in AARP publications.

When millennials finally get their hands on these properties, they could be looking at a substantial investment –– either to upgrade roofing, plumbing, mechanicals, etc. or just the removal of two dozen grab bars and a walk-in tub. Some good advice for millennials might be to invest in home improvement companies over the next few years because those companies will be repairing a huge number of homes in the next 15-20 years.

Eighty percent of the boomers surveyed believed they would leave an inheritance, presumably a property and some cash. But in an odd disconnect, only 51 percent of millennials expected to receive an inheritance. However it turns out, it could be one of those “be careful what you wish for” situations. If it’s a sizable inheritance, that will cover the renovations to an inherited house. If there is no inheritance, a millennial may end up house poor as they try to keep a property that requires extensive renovations.

Something for all the generations to think about.

Jay Harrison is a writer and creative consultant for DesignConcept. You can also visit his author page here. His newest mystery novel, Rio Puerco Demise is available on Amazon. His first mystery novel, Head Above Water, is also available on Amazon. But that’s not all. You can also purchase the Best of BoomSpeak on Amazon.

Filed Under: ESSAY

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