A service or a disservice?

Image from Wikimedia Commons

The day will come when my children will need to drag me, kicking and screaming, into an “assisted living facility” aka - nursing home. While I am hoping this is still a decade or two in the future, there is an air of inevitability surrounding the prediction.

But maybe that is not a bad thing. 

As my regular readers know, I spend quite a lot of my retirement time volunteering for a non-profit organization that has as its mission “helping older and disabled people live independently as long as possible”. Each week I give rides to several folks to doctors, hair stylists, and grocery stores. Often they are accompanied by a walker or wheelchair. On Friday mornings I shop for groceries and deliver them.

While the majority of my clients meet me at the door to their house or apartment building, now and then I get a glimpse into their homes if they request that I come in, usually to put away groceries, help with a mobility aid, take out garbage, or do a small task like move an object that is too heavy for them to lift. Too often I feel like I need to take a bath in disinfectant when I leave. The dwelling is filthy and cluttered. Cat litter boxes are overflowing. Cigarette smoke clings to the furniture. Newspapers and magazines are strewn about. Cupboards are overflowing with opened but uneaten foods. Dirty dishes fill sinks and counters.

Being something of a neatnik, I don’t know how these folks survive, let alone live a pleasant, comfortable, healthy life. But perhaps worse than the abysmal living conditions are the social conditions experienced by many of those I serve. Or should I say the social conditions not experienced.

In visiting with folks as I drive them to and from their appointments, I learn about their relationships with their families. The happiest and most cognitively alert men and women almost always have family nearby who support them in some way - visits, phone calls, tasks done. But my heart just breaks when I hear of how my rider is alienated from their children. Recently widowed. Long divorced. Never married. No children or no surviving children in their twilight years. Nor does it seem that they engage in non-family gatherings. I don’t hear about churches or clubs or service organizations that fill the need for social interaction. It feels that my short times with them in the car and waiting room may just be the only time they talk to anybody.

One fellow I often take to appointments became a widower a couple years ago. He continued to live in the nice condominium he shared with his wife. Other than a mobility issue, “Phil” seems to be in good health. One of the topics of conversation we engaged in was his frustration in finding a new romantic partner using online dating sites. “All these women are after is a free meal,” he once complained.

After hearing this tale of woe a number of times, I related a story to Phil about when I was looking for a place to live a few years ago and toured a “62+ housing cooperative.” On entering the large lobby, I was instantly surrounded by very friendly ladies who quickly gave me a long list of reasons why I should purchase a unit in the building, including potlucks, bingo, yoga classes, card games, educational programs, etc. They all seemed very friendly, if you know what I mean. And trust me, I am no George Clooney.

I relayed this story to Phil hoping he might take the hint that a change in housing might be more likely to lead to a new mate than Match.com. The odds are pretty good given that women do outnumber men in ever higher percentages as they get older. I haven’t seen Phil’s name on the list of those needing rides lately - maybe he heard my story.

Why are older adults so stubborn about staying “independent”? In many ways I sympathize. We like knowing where things are. We don’t like rules that may limit how we live. We may have pets we need to give up. A move may mean downsizing and having to part with cherished items (or the things we like to hoard). We may lose access to our local stores and parks and services. We may not want to feel like we must socialize. We want to be able to still cook our favorite foods in a full sized kitchen. 

But perhaps the biggest reason we don’t want to move is that we will leave behind not just furniture and knickknacks and pots and pans, but memories. We may be leaving a house we shared with our spouse, our children, our grandchildren, our friends. It may have been the place of happy Christmases and birthdays and graduation parties. When we look at that chair in the corner of the living room, we might still see that now long-dead, much beloved dog curled up in it. I understand the determination of those who wish to stay “independent.”

There is no one right answer to helping older adults lead both safe and happy lives. But we should be encouraging those who are at psychological and physical risk to move to places that can provide needed care. For most of those I drive, I provide a service. But I worry that for some, it is indeed a disservice. And I am not sure what, if anything, I can or should do about that.

A bill worth passing

“Students beginning 9th grade in the 2023-2024 school year and later must successfully complete a personal finance course for credit during their senior year of high school. The course must include but is not limited to the following topics: creating a household budget; taking out loans and accruing debt, including how interest works; home mortgages; how to file taxes; the impact of student loan debt; and how to read a paycheck and payroll deductions. A district may provide a personal finance course through in-person instruction, distance instruction, or a combination of in-person and distance instruction.” Minnesota  HF 4207

The language for this proposed bill came in an email message yesterday from an outfit called Next Gen Personal Finance. They must have sent me an email before since the message was in my spam folder. I have no idea if they have a hidden agenda or political motive, but I have to agree with their mission statement: “By 2030, all U.S. high schoolers will be guaranteed to take at least one semester-long Personal Finance course before graduation.”

It’s been a goal for which I’ve advocated many years.  In “If they let me design the math curriculum,” Blue Skunk, February 8, 2011, I ranted:

I've talked to a number of adults who, like me, are fairly well convinced that they could not graduate from high school today given the "rigorous" math curriculum requirement. (algebra, trigonometry, calculus, etc)

And I am damn sure the majority of the legislators and business leaders who think four years of math is essential for every student couldn't either.

But as I think about it, four year of math is a great idea - we just need to start teaching the right kind of math - consumer math. 

In my school days, "consumer math," was a euphemism for dummy math. You can't hack algebra or trig, Consumer Math class is for you. Ironically, today's graduates need "consumer math" a heck of a lot more than trigonometry. In such a course I would include:

• Calculating interest rates on credit cards and other consumer loans.
• How to do your own income tax returns - state and federal.
• Determining both the rate of return and maintenance cost on mutual funds and other investments.
• Reading and interpreting statistics in the media.
• How to spot a Ponzi scheme (or how to run one).
• Applied statistics: chance of wining the lottery, odds of paying higher taxes because you make over $250,000,  likelihood of inheriting a large sum of money when none of your relatives are rich, etc..
• Creating a personal budget and retirement plan.
• Understanding the current federal, state and local tax codes and determining the percentage of total income paid by different levels of income earners,
• Doing cost/benefit comparisons of medical, life, health, car and home insurance policies.
• Converting measurements from metric to English - applied especially to medications.
• The fundamentals of entrepreneurship.
• And just a dose of bullshit literacy for good measure.

I'm sure you could add to this list rather quickly. I don't know who is qualified to teach it - maybe curmudgeons after retirement? Can we please get alternative licensure?

It would be pretty easy to create similar classes that would replace the traditional physics, English literature, and government classes as well - just to show I'm not picking on math. Trouble is, there may not be enough curmudgeons to go around to teach them.

Of course this won't happen. Both businesses and governments depend on ignorance for their survival.

One major addition to the list above would be how to use personal technology to many of the tasks above. Balancing a checkbook seems moot anymore when you can check your account balance anytime. Spreadsheets for cost analysis seem imperative. Knowing how to keep one’s financial information safe and private is a must-teach.

This might just be the one bill this legislative session worth contacting my representative about. 

Star Wars revisited

In June of 1977 I had just finished my first year as a high school English teacher in the small Iowa town of Stuart. The big city of Des Moines was about an hour drive east. And the big city had multiple movie theaters, including the fancy-schmancy Riviera with its wide screen and audacious audio system.

It was where I watched Star Wars one summer afternoon. And was completely blown away.

The special effects were (for the time) totally amazing. The characters were ones with which this “rebel” could identify. Hey, Luke’s bad hair style was a lot like my own at the time. Lucas and the movie had a sense of humor. The musical score was amazing.

But what captured me the most were the sound effects. The swish of the light sabers. The scream on the hovercraft. The honky-tonk of the alien musicians in the bar. But most of all, the inhalations and exhalations of the menacing Darth Vadar. All which made the air and seats and floor in the movie theater vibrate. Each time the heating vent in my classroom started the next fall, I looked behind me to make sure it wasn’t Darth breathing down my back.

Of course I raved about the film to my fellow teachers. Eventually Star Wars came to the Grand Theater in Greenfield, some 30 miles south of Stuart, and a group of teachers went there one evening to see the show - on my recommendation. (Being teachers, we liked the lower cost of the tickets and the popcorn.) 

Unfortunately, it just wasn’t the same. At the time, the Grand’s screen was small and old. I probably have better speakers in my living room today than the movie house had in the 70s. It was the same movie, but it wasn’t the same experience as seeing it at the Riviera. I lost a lot of my movie critic cred with my fellow educators that night.

I rewatched the original Star Wars movie this week, for probably the tenth time. I have the DVDs of all nine movies. The earlier ones, as I remember, have been “remastered” with a bantha added here and there. But the plot and characters were the same. I have a large screen TV and a good sound system. The air doesn’t vibrate when a spaceship goes overhead, but it’s better than at the Grand. It’s still an engaging movie and I could nearly recite all the dialog, scene by scene. Luke’s haircut hasn’t improved with age.

Star Wars has, of course, gone on to become a big franchise. My love of the series shrank as Episodes I, II, and III appeared and dwindled even more during VII, VIII and IX. And while I watched the Mandalorian, it felt like it took place in another universe - one with which I found it hard to relate.

My son, son-in-law, and grandsons can tell you all you want to know about Boba Fett and Jango Fett and other wonkish lore. But my Star Wars excitement peaked during that first showing at the Riviera. I’ll keep rewatching the series over the next couple of weeks. Perhaps my appreciation will grow. Can’t wait to see Leia in her harem costume and Jar Jar in his fighting mode.

May the force be with you.