Six Decades and Counting...Life Reinvented

The Simple Pleasures of Summer

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sun, 05 Jul 2020 00:56:00 +0000

Life decelerates during the summer. We savor things glossed over or ignored the rest of the year. I meander through our town’s farmer’s market – outdoors once a week Memorial Day weekend through Labor Day – and take more than a few minutes to appreciate the cornucopia at each stand. Market stands are spread out in a wide one-way path (thanks to the pandemic) around a church parking lot. I order a tall plastic container of half-n-half, fresh-squeezed lemonade and iced tea, at a stand called Twisted Lemonade, and sip carefully under my mask as I peruse each stand and decide what to purchase.

My favorite summer fruit/vegetable is the tomato. At the beginning of the season I buy local hot-house, then as the season progresses purchase small ones – cherry and grape tomatoes, then plum, and finally enormous New jersey tomatoes ripened on the vine.

The market is close enough to my house that I either walk or ride my bike. I return home laden with scrumptious, healthy food. Most of the time. Sometimes I cannot resist the pull of fresh berry pies, homemade cheesecake, and giant muffins (blueberry my favorite).

Hub and I have not wandered far from home since March. We filled the car with gas only

My heirloom tomato plant

a couple of times in weeks. I spend a lot of time in my garden, and the harvest has begun – greens, radishes, strawberries, a meager yield of sugar peas, lots of herbs (basil, mint, lavender). Blueberries will ripen in a day or two, green peppers and tomatoes in a few days. Unsuccessful plantings too, but I won’t dwell on those...

Last night we walked a couple of blocks to the ice cream shop and waited in a long line outside, socially distancing from folks in front and behind us, everyone wearing masks. It is a holiday weekend and our beach town is packed.

Our evening ended with Hamilton. The movie includes the original Broadway cast and is free for Disney+ subscribers. I doubt a lot of seniors subscribe, but many have children and grandchildren who do. Key in the Disney+ user name and password, and you are on the way to an evening of fabulous entertainment! The show is closed captioned, so none of the fast-paced dialogue is lost. I admit I did not last the entire show, got too tired to focus, but will finish watching tonight. The original night’s entertainment, Fourth of July fireworks, were cancelled, thanks to the coronavirus and irresponsible folks. But...

It is summer and the sun shines, the weather is hot, the water warm, and folks just want to have fun. Enjoy the holiday and stay well, stay safe, stay sane.

Tomatoes purchased at the farmer's market.

From Ode to Tomatoes, by Pablo Neruda

...on the table, at the midpoint

of summer,

the tomato,

star of earth, recurrent

and fertile

star,

displays

its convolutions,

its canals,

its remarkable amplitude

and abundance,

no pit,

no husk,

no leaves or thorns,

the tomato offers

its gift

of fiery color

and cool completeness.

Thinking Positive and Planning Ahead

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Fri, 26 Jun 2020 22:30:00 +0000

I have begun planning for the future, a time of a new normal allowing hub and I to venture outside our cocoon into an ever-widening world. Maybe it’s the season or perhaps the sun has gotten to my head, but I need a change of scenery. Planning ahead lets the optimist I am prevail over the atmosphere we currently plough through – increasing coronavirus numbers in too many states, limited contact with other humans, restrictions in our everyday lives. But slowly we emerge...

I got my hair colored and cut! Not normally a major accomplishment or worthy of note, but after over four months of neglect my mane needed professional attention. Now I can leave the house without wearing a hat to cover the mess.

I ventured inside neighborhood stores – the grocery store, and a gift shop for - what else – gifts!

But most important are future plans...

We made plans to see our son and his family on Cape Cod in August. We haven’t seen the Vermont grandkids since February. A few extra days lounging in the pristine New England countryside would be nice, but no specific plans yet. Suggestions welcome!

Our Florida granddaughter’s Bat Mitzvah, originally scheduled for April 2020, was rescheduled for October, 2020. That date was beginning to look less promising as Florida covid-19 numbers soar. So the event is postponed once again, this time on the calendar for April 2021. Hopefully it will be safe to travel and gather in groups next spring.

And on the topic of travel during the pandemic... Advisories suggest driving is a safer means of travel than flying. I am not ready to board a plane, and probably will not until a vaccine guarantees a safe, virus-free trip.

Mentioning (once again) Florida...I live in a community of snowbirds and retirees, many with Florida connections. People travel along the East coast all the time, visiting family, on vacation, staying in the Sunshine State over a weekend, a week, a month or an entire season. Florida folks visit the Jersey shore all the time for the same reason. As a result the mix of Jersey/Florida folks is constant. New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut placed a 14-day quarantine on anyone arriving from states where covid-19 numbers are on the rise – Florida, Texas, Arizona, and others. I wonder if folks will self-quarantine. It is a concern for those of us beginning to feel safe in a region of decreasing numbers.

Meanwhile...e-mail and ‘real’ paper travel brochures arrive in my mailbox almost daily, and I peruse them for ideas. Where do I want to roam? Number one priority is anyplace safe, but after that I am open to going...anywhere.

Boomers Cope in Extraordinary Times

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Mon, 22 Jun 2020 01:47:00 +0000

Those lazy hazy crazy days of summer...

Nat King Cole

It is official. Summer arrived Saturday, June 20 at 5:43 P.M.EDT

The arrival of the sunny summer season does not magically dissolve current problems – the coronavirus pandemic, anti-racism protests, economic uncertainty, an acrimonious Presidential election. But hopefully we do not ignore a new season offering upbeat possibilities.

This week our bloggers explore the Black Lives Matter movement, discover innovative ways to endure quarantine, and ponder when the time is right to venture out into the world again.

The Black Lives Matter protests over the past month have inspired many of us to evaluate our personal prejudices.

In support of what's happening around the world, Jennifer, of Unfold and Begin, felt it was time to take a look at herself and uncover any racial biases she might have in order to move towards a better world. Read It's Time to Look at Myself.

Carol Cassara's blog, A Healing Spirit, is an interesting read you won't want to miss. This raw, unflinching, honest interview with a professional Black man whose courage in opening himself up and revealing himself at his most vulnerable is in every word of Carol Cassara's post, "Why Some Feel More Hope Than Ever on this Juneteenth".

We continue to cope with the coronavirus that has turned our 2020 lives upside down.

Rebecca Olkowski of BabyBoomster.com interviewed two people who have used innovation in creative ways to help others during the pandemic. It’s amazing what people have come up during the time spent in isolation.

Tom at Sightings Over Sixty posts an item this week about -- what else? -- the Coronavirus. Along the way he poses an interesting theory about the psychology of why some of us are still self-isolating and wearing masks, while others are ready to jump back into normal life. So check out What Are We Doing? to see if you are a Hero, or a Do-nothing.

Venturing out in the world
all masked up!

Quarantine has meant changed plans and a lot of cancellations – events, trips, activities. 2020 is a year of lowered expectations...

Have you heard of the teacup list? Laurie Stone of Musings, Rants & Scribbles explains -- instead of the bucket list with its dramatic, “before-I-die” goals, we have the teacup list. Instead of feeling panicked you haven’t gone on that cross-country road trip or hiked Thailand or parachuted in the Gobi desert, you shrink all expectations. With this in mind, here in no particular order are the small (okay, very small) things she wishes to do this summer…

Finally, a fraud alert –

On The Survive and Thrive Boomer Guide, Rita R. Robison, consumer and personal finance journalist, writes about what you should do if someone applies for unemployment benefits in your name. Report it to your employer and your state employment agency and go to the FTC website to see what to do about identity theft.

Thank you for stopping by and spending a few minutes with the boomers.

Have a great week and take time to enjoy summer.

Rest is not idleness,

And to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day

Listening to the murmur of water,

Or watching the clouds float across the sky,

Is hardly a waste of time.

- John Lubbock

Primarily Voting from my Couch

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 13 Jun 2020 16:36:00 +0000

143 Days Until Election Day

Tuesday, November 3, 2020

My mailbox contained an interesting piece of correspondence yesterday, a thick envelope with a mail-in ballot for the New Jersey primary. Every registered voter in the state will receive a mail-in ballot this year because of covid-19. The primary is July 7, delayed from the original June 2 date due to coronavirus. A limited number of voting venues will be open for the convenience of individuals who want to vote in person. Rather than risk standing in line waiting to vote, I will complete the mail-in form and return it in the no-postage-required envelope.

Primaries are usually non-events in New Jersey. By the time primary day rolls around decisions are made, and this year the Republican and Democratic Presidential candidates have been chosen. However my Congressional district offers a noteworthy race.

The Congressman representing New Jersey’s second Congressional district, covering a large territory in the southern part of the state, is Republican and ex-Democrat Jefferson Van Drew, a first-term Congressman.

Van Drew ran as a Democrat in 2018 and won. One year later he became the only House Democrat to oppose the impeachment of President Trump. In November, 2019, he publicly stated that he would remain a Democrat despite his opposition to impeachment. But in December Van Drew met with Trump and announced he was switching parties. January 7, 2020, he officially changed his party affiliation.

The local Democratic party sprang into action, seeking a candidate who would (hopefully) defeat Van Drew in the 2020 election. Five candidates vie for the nomination, one of whom, Amy Kennedy, is the wife of former Rhode Island Congressman Patrick Kennedy. He is the son of former Massachusetts Senator Ted Kennedy.

The Congressional district is labeled a pivot district – it went for Obama in 2008 and 2012, but for Trump in 2016. A moderate Republican represented the district for 24 years before retiring. Then-Democrat Van Drew replaced him. The election promises to be a contentious one.

A combative Presidential race...a contentious Congressional contest...a Senate election. New Jersey Senator Corey Booker(D) is running for a second term. Five candidates seek the Republican nomination, but Booker’s reelection is considered secure.

It is going to be a bumpy campaign season. After an election I normally look forward to a hiatus in political hype and propaganda. Unfortunately whatever the outcome of this year’s Presidential election, I doubt any degree of calm will descend on the political scene. On a positive note, however, maybe by November coronavirus concerns will be history and trips can be planned and travel will be safe once again. It will be time for a politically-free vacation anywhere that is possible.

Meanwhile stay sane, stay well, and enjoy safe forays back into the world.

Summer’s here and that means bathing suits

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 06 Jun 2020 23:32:00 +0000

Bathing is a sport

Enjoyed by great and small

In suits of any sort

Though better none at all.

19^th century – anonymous

We are witnesses to history. The coronavirus has been with us for months and refuses to leave. We stay close to home, quarantine, and weigh carefully the desire to go out, socialize and do what used to be normal activities vs. the possibility of getting sick, a situation that could be dire for seniors and anyone with a compromised immune system. There is the resulting recession as millions are unemployed. There are protests against racism, an issue that has haunted our nation since the first slaves set foot in the New World centuries ago.

But it is summer and time for a bit of light-heartedness. I dig into my closet for summer attire – light-weight shorts and capris, short sleeved and sleeveless tops, and what for me is the most hated item of clothing ever – the bathing suit.

When I was younger I did not abhor bathing suits – I wore one-piece suits, two-piece suits and bikinis at the pool, the beach, lounging in my backyard. But as the years passed I became more comfortable in loose clothing, and the idea of squeezing into a bathing suit became more and more objectionable.

Looking way, way back in history, I probably would not have liked swimming in classical times when the most popular swimming attire was none – the nude look was in. Nude bathing lasted until the 17^th century in Europe. But most people back then didn’t live to be senior citizens, so I guess nude bathing wasn’t an issue for old folks.

In cultures that deemed swimming a positive pursuit, some kind of everyday wear was appropriate from the 17^thcentury forward. Attire specifically for swimming became fashionable in the 19^th and 20^th centuries. Women’s and men’s suits were similar, outfits that initially covered arms, legs, and neck. Over the years suits became fitted, sleeveless, covered less leg, and the neckline dropped.

Late 19th century women's bathing suits.

Men's bathing suits early 20th century.

Turn of the 20th century...

and later in the 20th century.

The 1920s saw a lot of changes in American society and fashion, one of which was the introduction of the ancestor of today’s one-piece swim suits. Controversy came with the clothes. On some beaches the beach patrol, tape measure in hand, measured the distance from the bottom of a woman’s suit to her knees. If too much skin showed, she would be fined. Or dragged off to jail. But these draconian actions did not last past the 1920s as the suits became too popular for the police or anyone else to control.

Beach patrol measuring a woman's suit - distance from
the bottom of the suit to her knee.

FYI – The term ‘bathing suit’ originates from our friends across the pond. The bathing suit was appropriate attire for men and women while frequenting public baths and spas in England, eventually becoming popular at pools and beaches.

These are difficult times for all of us, but take time to enjoy bright sunny skies, warm weather, and wear whatever you want at the beach, the pool, or at home!

21st century bathing suits.

Mail Call!

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 30 May 2020 19:08:00 +0000

Our local mail carrier delivers an assortment of mail to our door six days a week, most of it junk. But I look forward to reaching into my mailbox, grabbing flyers and envelopes and scanning through the stack (can I fall any lower during quarantine than when a highlight of my day is getting the mail?) Sometimes there are items besides junk sprinkled in – a bill or two (most bills appear via email), a thank you note (occasionally), an invitation, catalogs, packages of must-have items ordered online, and perhaps an actual letter (I have not received one of these in – oh, I don’t know, months or years).

The post office is owned by the federal government but operated as a private corporation overseen by a Board of Governors appointed by the President and confirmed by the Senate. USPS, the U.S. Postal Service, is a service most of us use regularly. Unfortunately, it is threatened with extinction.

In small towns and rural areas post offices were small structures
like this one in Florida, or in the general store.

Sure the post office does not make a profit and runs a deficit every year. The federal

The post office is in this retail store.

government also does not make money and often generates a deficit. But the post office, its buildings and employees are beloved members of our communities. You never know if you will see a neighbor and chat for a few minutes. Sometimes lines get long, but...the variety of stamps for sale are appealing, educational, and works of art. And the post office employs thousands of people, extremely important when unemployment is in the double digits.

Yes it is a large unwieldy bureaucracy. But so is government and we’re not going to throw that away so fast (although maybe we should, but that’s a discussion for another time.).

The post office has been an integral part of our society since Ben Franklin became the country’s first Postmaster General in 1775. It is part of our history. The Pony Express, although short-lived, captivated folks when it began in 1860. In 1913 parcel deliveries began. Americans, ingenious folks that they are, came up with the idea of using the mails to send their children...wherever. An Ohio couple spent 15 cents, plus $50 to insure the youngster, to ~~mail~~ send their son to his grandmother’s home a mile away. For long distance travel it was cheaper to send a child via mail than buy a train ticket.

The practice of sending children via the post office did not last long. The method was obviously controversial. In 1915 the last child mailed was a three-year-old sent 40 miles by her grandmother to visit the child’s sick mother.

Although the last documented child sent via the mail was in 1915, as late as 1920 two applications to mail children were rejected because they could not be classified as “harmless live animals”. Any man or woman who has raised kids can understand that decree. On June 13, 1920, the Post Office announced children could not be sent via parcel post under any circumstances.

I lament the fact that another hallowed slice of our society may soon be consigned to the trash heap of history. With any luck it will not occur until after we all mail our ballots in November.

Summer Begins and My Little Free Library Opens

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 23 May 2020 21:20:00 +0000

It is Saturday afternoon of Memorial Day weekend. I am sitting on my front porch watching the world go by. There is, surprisingly, a lot of activity, especially when considering the pandemic still with us. It rained all morning and was supposed to rain all day, but the weather gods and the holiday gods consulted and thought better of confining folks inside another day. So the sun emerged and people ventured out...

Bikers, walkers, runners, kids and adults. Dog walkers, shoppers, beach goers. Folks from far and near converged on my beach town this weekend.

Summer officially begins.

Masks strongly recommended in my town.

Hub and I err on the side of caution, not going far or mingling. We maintain social distance and wear masks when venturing out. Which we did – venture out - Friday morning. Our town’s Farmer’s Market opened for the season, 19 stands spaced out in a church parking lot. Masks required. A socially distanced-spaced line formed around the block as only a limited number of people were allowed in at a time. Hub and I are market volunteers, and we staffed the line. As folks left we permitted the same number to enter. For many it was the first time among a group of people of any size in weeks. Almost everyone behaved. Only one man angrily questioned the mask rule and the line. (Why can’t I go in now?) He said he wasn’t coming back. Good!

The big event in the life of hub and me this weekend is the opening of our Little Free Library, a ‘take a book, return a book’ free book exchange, although a book can be taken without replacing it with another. Anyone may take a book or bring a book to share.

Our library has been ready for weeks, sitting on the porch, but we were reluctant to place it in front of the house, stock it and open because of the pandemic. Across the country many Little Free Libraries closed but others remained open. We decided to delay. But we felt now might be the time to open.

There is one shelf of books, mostly children and young adult titles but adult novels too. I placed two small bottles of hand sanitizer inside. No announcement or advertising. Researching Little Free Libraries online, some owners are very involved in promoting their library. Initially I am doing nothing. I will place a picture on my Facebook page and eventually mention it on the Nextdoor app. Baby steps to start. I can’t wait to see the interest our library generates.

Our Little Free Library

Peanut Butter Flashback

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 16 May 2020 21:32:00 +0000

My current quarantine lifestyle seems to revolve around food. Which is fine because I like food. I enjoy meals. Food has become an integral part of sane survival techniques during these troubling times, and I like spending time cooking comfort food, the fare of my childhood. And the thought of comfort foods consumed years ago brings back memories...

I can’t remember when I was on my own for breakfast, but sometime in elementary school. Weekday mornings were hectic at our house. Dad left for work first, dashing to make the train to Manhattan. Then Mom took off, and finally my sister and I.

I like to sleep. It is one of my best talents. So mornings I would sleep as late as possible,

then throw on clothes, grab my books and breakfast and race out the door. My breakfast-to-go was a piece of toast with a hunk of peanut butter slathered on. There must have been other choices, but peanut butter toast remains firmly entrenched in my mind, munching while walking to school. Enough nourishment until lunch...

I remember standing in the lunch line impatiently waiting to pay for my meal, then walking with my tray to the nearest empty seat among rows of green tables that filled the cafeteria. By the time I maneuvered through the lunch line there was not much time to schmooze with friends. Sometimes a homemade meal in a paper bag made the trip to school with me. I don’t remember its contents, but cold cuts were always in our refrigerator. Not the appealing kind craved today like fresh turkey off the bone, pastrami and Hebrew national salami, but cheaper meats like bologna, ham, and liverwurst. I hated liverwurst and will not touch the stuff to this day. There was always peanut butter and jelly.

Peanut butter toast and sandwiches made at home were always on
white bread.

Chaotic and noisy come to mind when recalling the lunch scene. By the time I was in junior high we had about 20 minutes to get our food, eat, drink, throw away the trash and move on to our next class.

While our taste buds and level of food sophistication may develop over the years, food consumed when young become part of who we are. Although I rarely eat peanut butter nowadays, I remain a lox and bagel devotee and love comfort food like mashed potatoes, a plate full of spaghetti and meatballs (nowadays turkey meatballs), chicken soup...but I am getting hungry thinking about all this food. Remembering comfort food and preparing comfort food may be a good way to pass confinement time, but I fear my bathroom scale will protest and as summer approaches, my clothes may not fit quite as comfortably as they did last summer. Oh well...

Step by Step, Stepping Out

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 09 May 2020 15:15:00 +0000

The pull to explore beyond my home is strong this year. And so, within the confines of my state’s quarantine restrictions and social distancing, hub and I began stepping beyond the confines of our house and neighborhood. We must be careful, however, and time our trips so that we return home before the pull to...pee...

First stop, our favorite bagel bakery for a high-calorie, great tasting breakfast treat. Unfortunately it was apparent from a block away that a lot of other people had the same idea. I hadn’t seen so many people together in weeks. Together but apart – six feet apart in a line that wrapped around the block.

Another day we visited a cafe that opened last weekend, take-out only of course. I ~~wanted~~ craved one of their famous and fabulous blueberry muffins. I enter the store, take a couple of steps, stop in front of a table with a cash register and coffee trappings and placed my order. “I’m sorry, we’re out of blueberry muffins.” Really? “We were busy today.”

I have to wonder where everyone patronizing these stores hide when not buying stuff I want. So while I thought about an alternative purchase, I ordered a fruit scone for hub. Then I ordered my replacement item, a lemon bar, rarely consumed because of the high sugar content and too many calories. The cashier, feeling bad because there were no more muffins, added an extra scone to my bag. He meant well...

I came home and savored coffee and lemon bar for lunch. The piece was huge, heavy and thick, unusual because lemon bars are typically thin and light. But I pigged out and ate the whole thing. Later that night I got hungry and ate the scone. The whole thing. No dinner, just the scone. Bad move. The lemon bar and scone did not sit well with me the next day. Enough said...

I wanted tomato plants for my vegetable garden. My usual garden philosophy is benign neglect, but this year is different. I have been weeding, and planting flowers and vegetable seeds. But I wasn’t going to start tomato plants indoors. Hub and I took a road trip seeking tomato seedlings.

As we approached the first nursery – nurseries are considered essential businesses – I noticed a line of cars slowly inching into the parking lot. We got on the end of the line. When the nursery grounds came into view, it was obvious the place was packed. Both front and back parking lots were full. We didn’t want to spend a lot of time shopping and waiting to pay. We kept driving.

Next stop, a nursery with no tomato plants in stock. Finally, success at the third place. I

The fruits of my labor later this summer
Wishful thinking!

purchased seedlings and planted them when I returned home.

Normally mundane activities, but in atypical times normal undertakings are the highlight of my day. And the week. And the past month. The highlight of hub’s week was the successful forage for toilet paper.

Stepping out, one step at a time, not too far, for not too long, so that we return home before the need to perform bodily functions intrudes on our excursion. There are no open and accessible rest rooms available in public places, yet...not that I would take the chance...

The Best of Boomers Welcome The Merry Month 0f May

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Mon, 04 May 2020 01:33:00 +0000

O the month of May, the merry month of May,

So frolic, so gay, and so green, so green, so green!
- Thomas Dekker (1572-1632),
from Dekker's play The Shoemaker’s Holiday

Spring officially arrived weeks ago, yet day after day the weather did not cooperate. But once the page of April was torn off the calendar, May ushered in sunny, warm weather in my corner of the world. Historically people welcomed the new season by lighting fires, dancing around a maypole, creating baskets of flowers, candy and other treats – enjoying a lot of social interaction. The spring of 2020 is different – no travel, no family events, no theater performances or restaurant meals, no face-to-face classes, no annoying crowds or long lines. With the arrival of May following almost two months of quarantine (and counting) l think we all look forward to mixing and mingling with more people than our quarantine companions. We want to survive, thrive and plan our futures.

Rebecca Olkowski with BabyBoomster.com explores the future of travel for Baby Boomers after we’re able to venture out into the world again. As older people we will still need to be cautious and take baby steps. She shares her ideas for those who may want to plan a vacation.

Shifting sands under our feet, that's what Carol Cassara says it feels like. We're all walking into the unknown, and at A Healing Spirit she offers helpful ideas for managing that walk into uncharted territory.

Some of us seek diversions to pass the time...

Tom at Sightings Over Sixty went shopping for some inspiration this week. He found it at . . . well, go do a little browsing over at They Say It Better, and you'll find out where he picked up his pearls of wisdom.

And others look to the past – and future...

Laurie Stone of Musings, Rants & Scribbles knows that moms of boys understand. When your kids are little, you think you’ll never survive the sticky hands, typhoon-force energy, and non-stop “getting into things.” She won’t even go into the teenage years. But then, in what seems an instant, those boys are men. And with that comes another phase. As a Mom you’re doing less, but observing more. Watching her grown sons over the past few years, she's learned the following…

We worry about the pandemic, and our concern has not abated. On the contrary...

On The Survive and Thrive Boomer Guide, Rita R. Robison, consumer and personal finance journalist, writes about a survey that shows Americans are much more concerned about the coronavirus pandemic in April than they were in March, with Hispanic and black adults having higher concerns. The coronavirus pandemic has impacted financially at least three in 10 adults nationwide, the survey by Consumer Reports shows.

A final thought on coping in these challenging times -

Over at Unfold and Begin, Jennifer looks at a Bob Marley quote that points out we never really know how strong we are until it matters.

I hope everyone stays healthy, safe and sane. And please take a few minutes to visit our boomers. We love to hear from our readers!

The Promise of a New Season

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sun, 03 May 2020 16:09:00 +0000

The calendar indicated spring arrived weeks ago, but most days the weather did not cooperate. Finally, one day just before the calendar rolled to the merry month of May, the promise of a new season emerged. On my daily walk I observed landscapers weeding and mulching around trimmed bushes and recently planted purple and yellow pansies. Tulips, red and white, reached for the sun. Deep green shoots outnumbered brown stubbles that hung on, the last vestiges of winter. Handmade rainbows taped to the windows of homes brightened facades. Everything seemed normal. Except the rainbows. Rainbows are a 2020 enhancement, the promise of better times after the Covid 19 pandemic.

As I walk the sky clouds over, and white billows become increasingly gray and menacing. The sun disappears and a chill seeps through my body. I pick up my step. I do not want to be caught in a rainstorm. My days of running are long past, and although I could push myself I worry about tripping and falling, a memory of a mishap years ago reminding me – slow down!

It was nine years ago that, walking fast because I was late for a class, I fell flat on my face. Walking fast in Crocs, almost running, is not recommended. As I pushed myself up off the sidewalk, I felt a liquid trickle down my cheek. Over the next few hours my face swelled, my eyes looked like I was punched in the face and my nose turned shades of red, purple and blue. I was sore but fine...

Except the following day was my niece’s baby shower. As friends and relatives oohed and aahed over lunch and baby gifts, I implored folks eager to snap the event for posterity not to take my picture. But of course there remains a permanent record of my clumsiness.

If I fell on this walk and bruised myself, it would not matter. I have no place to go and no one will see me. No one will take my picture, unless my husband surreptiously takes a picture while I sleep. The spring of 2020 is different from any spring experienced in my life – no travel, no family events, no theater or restaurant reservations, no face-to-face classes, no annoying crowds or long lines anyplace. I survive well, better than most people probably, for I am an introvert. However I look forward to restarting life free from the nagging question, is it safe to go...anywhere? Like the promise of a new season, l look forward to moving on.

Looking ahead...

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 25 Apr 2020 23:32:00 +0000

Longer hours of daylight, more hours of sun, flowers emerging from the soil, warm days. It is difficult to remain sad. On the other hand it is effortless to be optimistic. Although the number of virus cases creep up daily in my county, there are signs the light at the end of the tunnel is visible. Barely, but discernible.

Meanwhile folks tentatively emerge from six weeks in quarantine. My town awakens. Slowly, carefully.

The local ice cream store opened in March, but closed a few days later. Folks were serious about quarantining, and the weather was cold and nasty. No one had ice cream on their mind. Fast forward a month, and Sundaze opened for the second time this season. Hopefully their doors will remain open until November. Takeout only, but it’s a start.

An iconic local restaurant, shuttered since mid-March, announced on Facebook that they will open in early May for takeout. Another restaurant currently under construction also announced they will open for business mid-May for takeout and delivery.

Our town’s farmer’s market is scheduled to open May 22. This year only food stands are permitted, and booths will be dispersed throughout the parking lot. I look forward to fresh local fruits and vegetables.

These are small steps in the recovery and revival of life in my corner of the world. But they are moving in the right direction. Looking ahead...

Thursday, April 23, was Take Your Sons and Daughters to Work Day. My granddaughter had been looking forward to going to work with Daddy this year. So Thursday morning father and daughter went to Daddy’s temporary office together – in their basement. Disappointing. Sydney can’t wait to actually go to work with Daddy next year. Looking ahead...

This weekend, the last weekend in April, hub and I would be in Florida. If life were normal we would celebrate my granddaughter’s Bat Mitzvah and 13^th birthday. But life is not normal, and the event has been rescheduled for October. Instead the Florida family celebrated her not-mitzvah in a uniquely quarantine way – the car cavalcade. Hopefully the entire family and friends will assemble in person in October for the main event. Looking ahead...

These pictures were taken from a Facebook video

of the car cavalcade celebrating my granddaughter's not-mitzvah.

Before Quarantine...and Now

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 18 Apr 2020 22:07:00 +0000

The days of quarantine go on...and on...and on. So what is life like now? How is it different from life BQ – before quarantine? Here is a summary of my life before – and now.

Before Quarantine	and Now
6:30 AM – Get up and practically jump out of bed.	Wake up, glance at clock, ask myself: what day is it?, turn over and go back to sleep.
Grab something to eat, LEAVE THE HOUSE and go to the gym.	Sleep...
Spend an hour working out – not every day, but often.	Finally get up, throw on sweats, grab a cup of coffee on the way to the family room.
Return home, shower, dress.	Think about doing morning stretches, but don’t. Settle on the couch, turn on computer.
Breakfast time!	Relax on couch, check email & news.
Scan email, news.	Think about breakfast.
LEAVE THE HOUSE to attend a class or organization meeting.	Breakfast!
Class or meeting continues.	Relax after breakfast.
Return home for lunch OR meet friends for lunch.	Think about cleaning the house OR attacking a home-improvement project. Instead read a book.
Continue lunch with a friend OR run errands (LEAVE HOUSE AGAIN!)	Continue reading OR attend a Zoom meeting or get-together.
RETURN HOME	Think about taking a walk - after reading another chapter in my book.
Prepare for classes, work on volunteer projects, write. Also: Laundry, clean house, paper work (bills, etc.)	Take a walk, garden if weather permits, or continue reading. Have a snack if hungry or if just in the mood for a snack.
Read, check emails, maybe take a walk, think about dinner.	Check emails, watch news. Think about what to cook for dinner.
Prepare dinner OR decide where to go out to dinner.	Prepare dinner OR Decide where to order delivery or curbside take-out.
Go out to dinner (LEAVE THE HOUSE!) OR eat home. Attend meeting or social event.	Eat dinner.
OUT SOMEWHERE... OR stay home.	Multitask: Binge watch a series, sit in on Zoom event, review email and news, fall asleep on couch. OR THERE IS NO ALTERNATIVE...
Check next day's schedule, bedtime... OR SPEND THE DAY TRAVELING AND TOURING SOMEWHERE MILES FROM HOME	Sleep...

The Promise of Spring

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 11 Apr 2020 16:57:00 +0000

Where flowers bloom so does hope.

- Lady Bird Johnson

Flowers sprouted prematurely in my community this spring. Maybe it was the mild winter and – or – rains that saturated the soil. This is the best year I can remember for my yard’s flowering flora. Crocus never emerged, but there are clusters of daffodils - white and shades of yellow, and pink and purple gladiolas. Red and white tulips made their appearance, and pink blossoms emerged on the tree in the center of my front yard. A vibrant mélange, a counterpoint to endless weeks spent primarily indoors. The arrival of spring and vivid sunny days heralds the promise once again when we can walk and bike on the boardwalk, talk to neighbors closer than six feet apart minus face masks, visit family, and restart selected small group pre-quarantine activities.

When I was a kid spring meant a new dress for Passover seder and Easter Sunday family get-togethers. Sometimes the holidays felt like spring, warm and sunny, but some years the days were cold, occasionally wet and rainy, and that new lightweight spring outfit inappropriate for wintry weather. But whatever the day brought, I knew spring was just around the corner. The promise of spring meant more time outdoors, shedding sweaters and coats, spring vacation, time to plan summer activities.

Today my barbecue grill sits patiently on the patio eager to cook up delightful dishes. The past few days have been cold and windy, rainy too, so it sat unused. But a cloudless sky and warming temperatures lure me outdoors, and the promise of more mild sunny days lightens my mood.

My vegetable garden – unattended last year and a victim of benign neglect most years - begs for attention. I made it outside one day, weeded, raked, and planted early spring veggies. A manila envelope with a variety of seed packets sat in my garage for at least two years and probably longer, awaiting my garden-gloved hands. This year those seeds will initially feel the damp earth, hopefully see daylight and yield delicious produce. I realize old seeds may not be as robust as new ones, but whatever flourishes will be welcome. Like the promise of spring, my garden promises bounty yet unknown.

My patch of earth morphs into a vegetable
garden - basil grows...

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.

-Audrey Hepburn

I wish everyone Happy Holidays
and the gift of life coronavirus-free soon.

Two Trips Fifty Years Apart

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sun, 05 Apr 2020 02:55:00 +0000

My staycation, a.k.a. quarantine, continues. I do less of what I should do – clean the house for instance – and more of what I like to do, such as read, participate in Zoom get-togethers, and indulge a bit of nostalgia. Burrowing through my closet, I discovered a T-shirt that conjured up memories of two trips taken fifty years apart.

1967

Summer 1967. The world explodes, or so it seems. Race riots break out around the country. The Vietnam War heats up and anti-war demonstrations take off. Israel’s Six Day War begins and ends. I turn 17 and travel to Israel.

In 1905 my grandmother’s family left Hungary and settled in the United States. Relatives that remained in Hungary emigrated to Palestine in the 1930s. Grandma Rose kept in contact with her Israeli relations, and in 1967 sent me to Israel to meet them. I began a six-week adventure with people I did not know in a country never visited whose residents spoke a language I did not understand.

Hours after leaving New York I stepped onto the tarmac in Israel, dazed by the bright sun, the heat, and travel exhaustion. Uncle Alex met me at the airport. We stopped along the road at a falafel stand – my first taste of Mid-Eastern cuisine, warm chickpea falafel balls embedded in a pita with lettuce, tomato, onions and a spicy sauce that oozed everywhere. I was hooked. My journey ended on a Jerusalem street in front of a 1920s-era stone home reputed to lodge prisoners in the cellar during Israel’s War of Independence. I met Aunt Vera (Vera and Alex were brother and sister) and cousins Naomi and Ami, my guides during my visit.

The three of us wandered alleys in the Old City packed with stalls selling souvenirs and religious items – Jewish, Christian and Muslim, and passed makeshift memorials to soldiers killed during the battle for the city a few weeks earlier. Occasionally shots rang out, startling me. Ami shrugged his shoulders, “happens all the time.”

We visited the Bahai Temple in the north and viewed underwater life in the Red Sea from a glass bottom boat in the south. We splashed in the waters of the Mediterranean Sea and the Jordan River. We fooled around on stage at the Caesarea amphitheater and climbed stone seats, imagining Roman actors performing before a raucous crowd. I got used to rough toilet paper and no TV.

I board another plane for home. A layover in Canada delayed the flight. Meanwhile my parents and boyfriend drove to Kennedy, unaware of the delay until they reached the airport. On a normal day they would have settled at a restaurant and dawdled over dinner.

Tuesday, August 29, 1967, was not an ordinary day.

That evening the final episode of the TV show The Fugitive aired at 10:00 PM Eastern time. It was a momentous event and my parents and boyfriend were determined not to miss it. If my plane landed on schedule we would have arrived home in time to watch the show.

That did not happen.

The three would-be viewers searched the airport for a TV, but their quest proved futile. They were not among the 78 million Americans who watched The Fugitive finale – 72% of American homes tuned in - the largest TV audience for a program up to that time.

I expected smiles and cries of joy when I disembarked. Instead three frustrated, despondent individuals grabbed me and my bags and dragged me out of the airport, fuming over their failure to witness The Judgment Part II, “the day the running stopped.”

I was responsible for the fact that they missed the greatest TV show ever.

They never totally forgave me.

2017

Summer 2017. The President of the United States dominates the news, fake and not-so-fake. North Korea fires ballistic missiles. Terrorist attacks occur around the world. I return to Israel. I had not kept in contact with my Israeli cousins, and tried to reconnect with Ami and Naomi, but failed.

Sixteen family members traveled to Israel. We arrived at our hotel on a Friday, dropped our bags and went out to explore, eventually settling at an outdoor table at a cafe on Ben Yehuda Street, a major pedestrian mall. Suddenly we hear loud voices and shouting. Gazing up the street, a wall of women and a few men march towards us waving signs in Hebrew and English demanding women’s rights.

We visited the Western Wall, the remains of the Second Temple destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD. Men and women, separated by a fence, daven (pray), and place pieces of paper with prayers on them in crevices in the wall. Groups of Orthodox men dance in a circle, welcoming Shabbat. The first time I visited the Wall, also on the Sabbath, Ami scolded me for carrying money on the holiday.

Resting on my way to the top of Masada.

Our entourage trekked the narrow streets and alleys of Jerusalem, up and down steep hills. I don’t remember the terrain as an obstacle fifty years earlier. We waded through tunnels beneath the streets of Jerusalem that supplied water to allay the thirst of besieged residents over 2,500 years ago. We tubed down the shriveling Jordan River, a victim of climate change and poor water management. We plunged into the Dead Sea, floated on its salty waters, and covered ourselves with mud. The lake was not threatened by receding shorelines and sinkholes my first visit. I watched my grandkids run around the ruins of a Roman amphitheater and race up and down the age-old stone bleachers.

My family, way ahead of me
on the trail to Masada.

I climbed Masada. Younger members of my party completed the hike in an hour. I finally arrived at the top in 1½ hours, but stopped along the way to take pictures (and catch my breath!). I proudly wear my “I Climbed Masada” T-shirt!

We viewed barbed wire fences separating Palestinian lands from Israeli settlements, walked through bunkers along the Gaza border, bounced across grassy Galilee hills in a jeep, and rode camels in the desert.

We arrived in Tel Aviv the last day of Tel Aviv Gay Pride Week. From women’s rights to gay rights, from the ancient holy city of Jerusalem to the cosmopolitan metropolis of Tel Aviv, we traversed thousands of years across land that has been a crossroads of civilization since prehistoric times.

Fifty years spanning two centuries bracket my trips. And my life.

FYI, I have never seen the last episode of The Fugitive.

One Community Copes with Quarantine

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 28 Mar 2020 14:49:00 +0000

It is a challenge staying home 24/7. Fresh air helps – a balcony or porch, front or back yard makes it more tolerable. A walkable neighborhood is a plus. I walk on sunny, warmish days. I am not alone – sort of. I pass neighbors (at a safe distance) walking their dogs, folks of all ages riding bikes, couples strolling, often hand in hand, solo walkers and runners. Everyone has been respectful and keep their distance, waving, bellowing “hi, how ya doing?”

Wandering outdoors lifts the spirits in these troubling times. In my part of the world the gray dreariness of a Northeast winter is easing into the colors of spring early this year. My yard, a couple of small patches with no grass, is full of bushes and a variety of flowers planted over the years. Probably due to a combination of a mild winter and lots of rain, flowers sprout early and blossom beautifully.

My town is getting into the spirit of spring and its implication, hope for the future. A neighborhood initiative called Rainbow Trail is the brainchild of a couple of local Moms. People post rainbows, most homemade, on their doors and windows as a colorful sign of optimism in the future. The pictures offer an opportunity for kids to scour the neighborhood for rainbows, a fun family activity. Folks of all ages pass by and smile when spotting the bright symbols.

Creating sidewalk messages is another way our community spreads cheer.

Routine home-based activities include reading, preparing meals, exercising, watching TV, laundry and cleaning. Now that the opportunity arises we try new pursuits and resurrect old ones...Tackling intricate puzzles is not a usual activity, but a pastime now attempted while watching mindless TV or endless news briefings...I look forward to planting a vegetable garden, binge watching programs recommended by friends and shrinking my pile of must-read books. And taping a rainbow on my window.

Our Indefinite Staycation

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Fri, 20 Mar 2020 17:45:00 +0000

We are lucky, and unlucky, to be seniors in these uncertain times. Hub and I are not confined at home with kids to entertain 24/7. On the other hand we are in the age group vulnerable to coronavirus COVID-19. We are lucky to live in a home that comfortably accommodates two people. Our neighborhood is conducive to getting outdoors. However we spend too much time hovering in front of the TV listening to dire predictions, a downer for our mental health.

My yard is becoming a colorful bright spot in dreary times.

Speaking of our neighborhood...we live in a beach town ‘open’ all year. The population swells over the summer with snow birds and second-home owners, out-of-town family and friends. Most second home owners hail from Philadelphia, New York, and the Washington, D.C. area. Over the past couple of weeks many snow birds, rarely arriving before April, returned to town. City folks, last observed Labor Day and not usually seen again until Memorial Day weekend, materialized early this year, like the flowers that have sprouted prematurely in my yard.

As a result of the increased population and everyone’s desire to stock up, local stores ran out of provisions. Supplied for a winter population, they were not prepared for the influx. Local governments are concerned with their ability to service the increasing numbers in town, especially if many get sick. Towns are urging folks NOT to spend their home confinement time at the shore. But folks will spend time wherever they want. Everyone – individuals, businesses, governments – are adapting to the new temporary normal, with hiccups as they adjust.

Monday was a landmark day in our town. Our favorite ice cream shop opened for the season – take-out only. Hub walked over to get our first delicious taste in months. He was surprised to see quite a few people with the same idea. People queued up, standing several feet apart. Hub waited outside until a space opened, went in, ordered, quickly received his precious package and walked home. A slice of ’normalness’ in strange times.

I ordered curbside pickup from our local grocery store. I called in the order and a couple of hours later drove to the store and stopped in front of the entrance. A clerk delivered my groceries to the car, placing the bags on the back seat. The store was out of some items ordered, but nothing vital.

One morning I ordered sandwiches from the bagel shop, open for take-out and delivery only. Again I drove, but this time walked into the store to pay and pick up my breakfast. I feel it is important to patronize the few locally owned businesses open. They need our support to remain open and with any luck survive until better times.

I am cooking more than what, in the past, I would term ‘the norm’. Soup from scratch, salads with more than a couple of ingredients, vegetable dishes and casseroles. Trying to keep meals healthy and not too high in calories, and definitely consuming less salt and sugar.

I confess I am not exercising enough. No yoga or zumba or tap classes to frequent, no gym to stop by. Hub and I take walks when the weather obliges and I do my stretches at home, but it is not the same. I need the motivation of a class.

What would we do without the internet? Zoom is on the lips of people of all ages. Meetings, religious services, programs now moving online, concerts, virtual visits to museums, the list goes on. It is not the same as personal contact, but beats being completely isolated from ‘regular’ life.

Going forward special projects are on my to-do list. I reviewed piles of papers and shredded. There are stacks of pictures to sift through, drawers to clean out, thrift shop bags to fill, books to read, virtual scrabble with family...

Our staycation continues indefinitely, but we look forward to restarting activities missed – going anywhere unconcerned about social distancing, socializing with family and friends, attending meetings and programs, traveling (anywhere!).

Until then everyone stay safe, healthy, and sane at home.

Looking forward to gardening this year!

Boomers Brave a Pandemic

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sun, 15 Mar 2020 17:05:00 +0000

All of us are focused these days on one objective – not getting sick. Specifically, the Coronavirus COVID-19, particularly cruel to individuals with medical issues and seniors. An illness medical professionals are dealing with for the first time, we maneuver unknown territory as best we can.

Of course the Coronavirus is top of everyone's mind. In Different Views of the Virus, Part I, Tom at Sightings Over Sixty takes a bemused look at how two different people approach the epidemic from two different points of view. That the two different views involve himself and his wife does present an interesting situation.

Rebecca Olkowski with BabyBoomster.com has Coronavirus on her mind because everyone’s talking about it and not everyone is seeing it as a serious threat. As Baby Boomers, we’re vulnerable and need to be careful. Here are her thoughts on what she’s doing to prevent getting sick.

On The Survive and Thrive Boomer Guide, Rita R. Robison, consumer and personal writes about what you should do with your groceries during this coronavirus era. Among the tips are to wash nonporous containers and wash your hands, counter, and other surfaces touched after you put the groceries away.

A common emotion many of us experience during these uncertain times is anxiety. Laurie Stone of Musings, Rants & Scribbles has few natural talents, but producing anxiety is right up there. It doesn’t take much to get the hamster wheel spinning – a medical test, taking a flight, meeting a new group of people. But having had this affliction all her life, she's gotten (if not good) at least better about relieving the rat-a-tat of her nervous heart. Here are seven things that help bring on (somewhat) calmness…

At A Healing Spirit, Carol has embraced the gift of time that's come with social distancing. Her deep belief in taking action to protect public health means she is spending most of her time at home. In "Life in the time of plague: the gift of time," she shares with us some things you can do with your unexpected free time.

Cancellation of activities and staying home frees up a lot of time. If you are a blogger, or thinking of starting a blog, this is a great time to take the plunge. Jennifer’s blog post is a must-read. Jennifer of Unfold and Begin, shares her struggles and solutions with creating content for her blog. If you're a blogger who struggles with what to write about then read How to Make Content Creation Not Suck.

Everyone must decide for themselves how to navigate the next few weeks. I sat through a meeting this weekend where we agonized over whether to cancel a series of continuing education classes for seniors. We polled instructors, sampled participants, reviewed medical and government guidelines, and finally decided not to cancel the small group classes where we can follow protocols for social distancing and sanitation. Meanwhile we continue to reevaluate as the situation unfolds.

Be careful, be smart, and most important, do everything within your control to stay healthy.

Thank you for visiting the boomers and, for a break while listening to the latest news, stop by our boomer blogs and voice a digital hello.

Perforated Paper On A Roll

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sun, 15 Mar 2020 01:00:00 +0000

Sitting home watching a pandemic unfold before my eyes is truly weird, sort of an out of body experience. To (hopefully) avoid getting the coronavirus I listen to the recommendations...

Wash your hands for 20 seconds and wash often...wipe surfaces regularly...avoid large crowds...distance yourself from others...no touching, hugging, kissing.

At the drugstore the other day a long line of people waited patiently to pay for their toilet paper purchases. Folks kept a couple of feet apart from each other, heeding the warnings. No one attempted to cut in line.

On TV I view lengthy lines at grocery stores, Target and Walmart, carts full of hand sanitizer and toilet paper, and people crowding each other, jostling, touching, standing inches from those around them. Don’t these people know about the guidelines?

Pictures of empty shelves, toilet paper sold out, headline the news.

What is our obsession with toilet paper all about? After all, folks survived without toilet paper for thousands of years...

The ancient Greeks used stones and pieces of clay. Public restrooms in ancient Rome contained sponges on a stick, kept in pots filled with salty water. Eskimos used snow and tundra moss. People have used leaves, grass, fur, corncobs and mussel or coconut shells. The French royals used lace. Colonial Americans used corncobs and paper torn from newspapers and magazines. The Sears catalog was commonly recycled for toilet paper. The Farmers Almanac had a hole in the top corner so it could be hung and pieces of paper easily torn off.

The first documented use of toilet paper dates from the year 580 A.D. in China. Toilet paper was a prized commodity exclusively for the use of royalty and the wealthy. Records from the 14^th century indicate toilet paper was made for the Emperor in 2-foot by 3-foot sheets.

Fast forward to 19^th century America. Indoor plumbing was becoming standard in American homes. In 1857 a resourceful American inventor and entrepreneur, Joseph Gayetty, produced individual sheets of paper he termed “Gayetty’s Medicated Paper”. The product was unsuccessful, most likely due to the absence of advertising.

Seth Wheeler acquired a patent for perforated rolls of paper in 1871. By 1877 his company, the Albany Perforated Wrapping Paper Company, sold perforated rolls of toilet paper in plain brown wrappers. The company thought people would be too embarrassed to buy the item if packages were identified.

A decade later brothers Irvin and Clarence Scott founded the Scott Paper Company. The company introduced toilet tissue in 1890, and by the end of the 19^th century manufactured perforated rolls of toilet paper. Victorian mores forbid advertising the product. Wholesalers promoted the product locally and put their own name on the product.

Eventually the Scott Paper Company decided to sell its own name brands. In 1902 they purchased the name “Waldorf” from one of their customers – the well-regarded Waldorf Astoria hotel in New York City - and Waldorf became the oldest name-brand toilet tissue in the United States.

Another breakthrough in toilet tissue production occurred in 1935 when Northern Tissue advertised the first “splinter-free” paper.

In the past century and a half toilet paper has become an essential item in every home in America. The average American uses 57 sheets of toilet paper a day, or about 20,805 sheets a year. The toilet paper business is a $2.4 billion industry.

Americans may face a unique problem when the pandemic passes. What to do with all the toilet paper stockpiled in our pantries? They will not spoil or get moldy or ever be out of date, but do we want them taking up so much space? Check out this website and this one for ideas on what to do with your extra rolls.

The Invisibles

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sun, 08 Mar 2020 02:52:00 +0000

I like to describe myself as a proudly visible member of the most invisible segments of our society – older women. - Cindy Gallop

Have you ever felt ignored? Whether in a social setting, retail establishment, at work or anywhere, it seems to be a not uncommon event in the lives of older folks – more so with women than men. Men on the greater side of 50 are described with adjectives such as distinguished, notable, revered. White hair is dignified and imposing on men. People admire, respect and pay attention to older men. Women of the same vintage are aging, mature, or simply old, the pressure for women to look young pervasive in our society.

The notion that gray hair implies old women, folks to be shoved aside in the work place and everyplace else, is pervasive in American culture, but slowly fading. Women are beginning to revel in their gray locks. I am not there yet, but slowly transitioning, at least mentally if not actually.

This weekend hub and I attended a milestone event, a Bar Mitzvah, the center of attention a 13-year-old boy. Bar Mitzvah is a religious ceremony where a boy or girl (a Bat Mitzvah for a girl) stands before the congregation, participates in the service, and is welcomed into the community as an adult member now able to fully participate in religious services. A social event celebrating the occasion often follows the religious service.

As invitees to the event, we were surrounded by young people. Not only 13-year-olds –there were a lot of them – but men and women of all ages younger than we are. That is normal in our world today, but sometimes we are undeniably reminded of our advancing age and not thrilled by the revelation. We know we are older, but don’t necessarily want it pointed out. I felt that way at the party.

We were the folks at the old people’s table.

Remember the old folks when you were young and innocent? The men and women hunched over, maybe walking with a cane, tottering around, the women in thick stockings rolled down over their knees, wearing clunky shoes. They sat at a table in the far corner of the room, rarely moving, observing all the activity but not participating. If any of these ancients were relatives we knew, we went over, greeted them, then left to romp with friends.

Fast forward, and we are the old people. No cane yet, my stockings are black transparent ones NOT rolled over my knees, and my shoes, although not yet clunky, are definitely comfy.

We had a table in the back, but not in the far corner of the room. Reflecting on the perfectly placed event table, my criteria is as follows: far from the DJ and blaring music, although close enough to hear announcements, a short walk to the buffet table, and NOT a lengthy hike to the restroom.

We are the older generation. The comrades at our table ranged in age from the early sixties to (early) seventies, not ancient in my estimation, and definitely not old-old. But I wonder what the 13-year-olds thought of us, although I suspect they may not have thought of us at all.

In many ways we do not look like our predecessors. Some of us dye our hair. We look healthier. The women’s clothes are not old-fashioned and out-of-date, although most of our figures are, and that applies to both men and women.

I wonder if the old folks I knew when a kid believed they were ignored by everyone else in the room. Or felt old. An aspect of growing old I find difficult to get my head around is that I don’t think old (most of the time), and much of the time don’t feel old, but when I look in the mirror the realization hits...Wow, I am ~~old~~ ~~mature~~ on the very high side of middle age...

Hub and I enjoyed the party and the company of friends seldom seen (this was an out-of-town event), danced (the girls a lot, the men not so much), and relished the fact that we were healthy enough to attend and participate in the festivities.

Returning to my opening premise...The fact of senior invisibility has been illustrated in TV shows and movies, but perhaps not as humorously, yet poignantly, as in the following excerpt from a Grace and Frankie show. In this segment, Grace and Frankie, a.k.a. Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin, react passionately when ignored in a convenience store.

I will never be an old man.

To me, old age is always 15 years older than I am.

- Francis Bacon

Contemplating Confinement

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 29 Feb 2020 03:42:00 +0000

Seventeen years ago a mega-blizzard blasted the Eastern United States. Folks remained home for days. The storm raged over President’s Day weekend, from February 14^th to the 19^th, 2003. Everything closed. Roads and airports, businesses, schools, all shut down. Life came to a standstill. Pennsylvania, my home state at the time, declared a state of emergency and ~~insisted demanded~~ urged citizens to stay home and avoid unnecessary travel. Hub and I settled in our warm and cozy condo, enjoying domestic pastimes like watching TV, reading, cooking and eating, putting together a 1,000 piece puzzle, and watching the snow fall.

That blizzard experience came to mind as a result of today’s 24/7 news. It is difficult to avoid the coronavirus hype. Regions around the world are quarantined – a huge region of China, towns in northern Italy, folks on a cruise ship, then again when returning to the U.S.

Being confined in an inside cabin on a cruise ship sends me into paroxysms of anxiety. There are no cruise plans in my future. But I think about the possibility...would I be forced to pay the exorbitant wifi fees charged by ships (usually $15-$25/day)? I can survive a week or so without constant wifi access, but I would not want to be cut off from the outside world for two plus weeks. Folks might get mad when I don’t wish them Happy Birthday on Facebook or like their posts...old friends might think this senior citizen left this world...bills would pile up and nasty notes demanding payment clog my email inbox and snail mailbox.

So, should I be proactive and prepare to be quarantined at home?

Should I fill my freezer with ice cream and other high-calorie frozen delights to ease my unease?

During a snowstorm folks make a bread and milk run. Should I stock up on firewood, Starbucks Frappuccinos, wine and cheese, and chocolate in preparation for fireside feasting?

I have a pile of books eager to be opened, but maybe I should stop by the library and take out a couple more.

Should I buy candles and canned foods in case our electricity is knocked out? Another reason to stock up on books, an alternative to endless binge TV-watching.

And I better check my toilet paper supply (diarrhea can be a symptom of coronavirus, in case you missed that warning).

What about exercise? After being confined in a house without a Peloton, will I balloon a few pounds? I fear it is inevitable.

No one knows what will happen tomorrow, next week and beyond. Rather than obsess about the virus, I will fixate on whether the black pants I want to wear tomorrow night are clean, and if I can find them...That is really what I should do if confined at home.

Clean my closet. And maybe the rest of my house.

A Bit of Sweet Nostalgia

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sat, 22 Feb 2020 03:20:00 +0000

The current state of the world throws one into paroxysms of despair. I would like to ignore the goings-on, stick my head in the sand and not come up until someone taps me on the shoulder and says, “The craziness is all over. It’s OK now. Let’s go to Starbucks and catch up.”

My week began with a long, long, long drive from Vermont to my home. Finally arrived, I nursed a sore back and aching muscles while mundane activities such as food shopping and laundry occupied my time.

Because of the stress of mundane activities, my system revolted and I succumbed to a bug that required me to do nothing but sleep for two days. It was a chore shuffling from bed to the couch. I needed comfort. My murky, sleep-induced mind drifted back to a time when a candy bar cured a host of childhood troubles...to a time I didn’t worry about the state of the nation...to a time I didn’t care about calories or sugar or salt content or what difficult-to-pronounce chemicals comprised my favorite foods...a time when a small wrapped candy was one of my preferred go-to munchies.

I fancied a Tootsie Roll. The candy is still made today, it is still small and individually

wrapped, and probably still contains the same unhealthy ingredients. And I am sure mouth-watering, sticking to the roof of the mouth yummy.

Unfortunately, there are no Tootsie Rolls in my house, a house devoid of candy, my home a sweet wasteland. Only memories...

The Tootsie Roll story begins with an Austrian immigrant, Leo Hirshfeld, who arrived in the United States in 1884. Hirshfeld’s father was in the candy business, and the son followed his father’s trade. Hirshfeld invented the Tootsie Roll in 1896 and named the candy Tootsie, his daughter Clara’s nickname. The candies were sold out of Hirshfeld’s candy store in Brooklyn for a penny apiece. One piece contains 140 calories – but who can eat just one?

A nice narrative, but not quite true. I found the first version, but digging deeper discovered what apparently is the real tale.

Tootsie Rolls were invented by Hirshfeld, but not until 1908. At the time he worked for the Stern and Saalberg Candy Company. Hirshfeld invented other food items, including a gelatin dessert mix that became a standard ingredient in many early 20^th century recipes (does Shredded Wheat Biscuit Jellied Apple Sandwich sound appealing?). Hirshfeld received patents for candy-making techniques and machines. He became a wealthy man.

Sadly Hirschfeld’s story does not end on a happy note. He left the company by 1920, probably dismissed by new company owners. He committed suicide in 1922.

The Stern and Saalberg Candy Company became The Sweets Company of America, and eventually Tootsie Roll Industries.

The company has been wrestling with one big question for decades: How many licks does it take to reach the center of a Tootsie Roll pop? The answer remains elusive. While pondering the question view this 1970 commercial about this issue, and maybe go out and buy a Tootsie Roll or two, or a Tootsie Roll Pop, and enjoy!

Channeling Eleanor Roosevelt

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Sun, 16 Feb 2020 15:50:00 +0000

The Hudson Valley of New York State is a sliver of real estate alongside the Hudson River. The Algonquin Indians lived in the region when the Dutch settled the territory in the 1600s. By the end of the 17^th century the English controlled the area, and during the 18^th and 19^th centuries the elite of New York City made the Hudson Valley their summer playground, building cottages (mansions by my criteria) overlooking the river. Many of these homes are open for tours, including estates established by the Vanderbilts, Rockefellers, and Roosevelts.

Today the waterway and roadways meander north from the concrete metropolis of New York City through affluent suburbs, picturesque small towns and countryside. Hub and I drove country roads on a bitter cold February day, our destination Val-Kill, a National Historic site and the home of Eleanor Roosevelt (ER), wife of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, President of the U.S. from 1933 until his death in 1945.

FDR’s family spent a lot of time at Hyde Park, their Hudson Valley estate. But the residence belonged to his mother, Sara Delano Roosevelt. FDR built a cottage as a retreat and workplace for Eleanor, titled Val-Kill after a creek next to the property (kill is a Dutch word for a body of water, usually a creek or river).

Val-Kill

ER was an unconventional housewife, political wife, First Lady, journalist, ambassador and activist.

Val-Kill is stark during a winter shorn of greenery, no flowers blooming, no leaves on trees, no signs of wildlife. Snow would cover the grayness, creating a picture-postcard scene – Eleanor loved her snow-covered surroundings – but seasonal cold without winter white is just dreary (IMHO). But looking around I could see why the place became a welcome sanctuary. Far from the obligations and pressures of Albany and later the White House, ER immersed herself in her work – writing a daily column and more than 30 books, involvement in civil rights and causes championing the underdog. Prominent folks found their way to Val-Kill from around the world – Winston Churchill, Madame Chang Kai Shek, Shirley Temple, the King and Queen of England, John F. Kennedy, and many more.

The weather did not deter hub and I from touring the house. But we are winter wimps, especially when temperatures hover below freezing, and did not hike surrounding trails.

Hub and I found the parking lot packed - with three cars. Our tour began with an introductory film. We were the only ones in the screening room. The guide said others may join us later, but that didn’t happen. We enjoyed a private tour of the first and second floors of the house. If more than eight people are on the tour, the upstairs is not included. Narrow stairs and hallway preclude large numbers wandering the second floor.

ER’s home, viewed today as it appeared when she lived there, is a modest dwelling filled

with books, family pictures, and comfy-looking upholstered chairs. Chatting with her secretary, writing, meeting visitors, planning projects, presiding over a meal with numerous guests – local folks, dignitaries, old friends, family members - ER’s warmth, energy, and stamina (she evidently slept only four hours a day) pervade the house decades after she last roamed the rooms. A woman who championed causes such as civil rights, she worked to improve conditions she found unconscionable. ER’s legacy and life inspire us today.

When you cease to make a contribution, you begin to die. - ER

Some of my favorite Eleanor Roosevelt quotes:

A woman is like a tea bag; you never know how strong it is until it's in hot water.

The only advantage of not being too good a housekeeper is that your guests are so pleased to feel how very much better they are.

Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art.

And my favorite:

Once I had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: "No good in a bed, but fine up against a wall.”

Driving Again, Almost

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Fri, 07 Feb 2020 20:00:00 +0000

8:00 am and time to hit the road. Hub and I faced a long ride north to the state of verdant Vermont, and Bernie Sanders. Two granddaughters awaited our arrival - not so eagerly. Their Mom was leaving on a jet plane (apologies to composer John Denver and singers Peter, Paul, and Mary) and were not thrilled to be left in the capable hands of Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, all of whom place a distant second, third and fourth to Mom. But everyone needs a vacation, and Mom is no exception.

I am prepared for winter!

Hub and I pack the car with suitcases and backpacks, and toss jackets and cold weather wear in the car - hats, gloves, scarfs, boots, our warmest sweaters. I make a quick round of the house to ensure lights are off, faucets are not dripping, no toilet is running.

Hub and I get in the car, secure seat belts and lean back, ready, if not eager, for the trip. Hub, who earned the first drive stint, starts the car. We slowly head down the block. Then we hear a not-normal sound – ker-plunk, ker-plunk, ker-plunk. No doubt about it, there is a problem. Hub stops the car, I exit and begin scouting around the car. Doesn’t take long to spot the problem.

A flat tire.

How could this be? We drove home from a Super Bowl party the evening before with no difficulty. We must have run over a nail or something that drove a wedge into the tire and deflated it overnight.

We weren’t going anywhere immediately.

We contacted AAA.

A half hour later a quick-responding mechanic removed the damaged tire, replaced it with a donut spare, and we were on our way. Again.

Sort of. We could not drive far on a faux tire. I called the car dealer – we thought the tires might be covered under our recently-purchased car’s warranty - and scheduled an appointment to exchange the donut for a real tire.

By noon we were on the road. Again. After paying for a tire NOT covered by the car’s warranty.

I am glad to report we completed the trip without further incident, a calm, uneventful journey through the pinelands of southern New Jersey, the industrial dreck of northern New Jersey, the congested suburbs of New York City, the brown mountains along the New York Thruway, and the fallow fields of Vermont.

A fave Vermont
outdoor activity
(some hearty souls participate.
Others, like me,
are spectators and watch
from a warm indoor location!)

Not many seniors travel north during the winter, preferring to escape to warm sunny skies. But family beckons, and so hub and I sit in a cozy family room, staring at a blazing fire as snow falls outside. In my opinion cold wintry weather is not fun, but snow offers some solace in its splendor, especially when initially falling, covering a gray landscape with pristine white, creating a temporary perfect, beautiful scene.

Cons to a Cruise Vacation

noreply@blogger.com (Meryl Baer) — Wed, 29 Jan 2020 19:13:00 +0000

To move, to breathe, to fly, to float.

To roam the roads of lands remote, to travel is to live.

– Hans Christian Anderson

My previous post enumerated advantages to cruising. But there are drawbacks the wary traveler should consider. Amenities, charges, destinations, etc. vary with cruise companies and individual ships. Do your homework before booking! Here are a few cons to think about when contemplating a cruise:

· Calm waters and sunny weather are NOT guaranteed. If prone to motion sickness throw Dramamine or another motion sickness remedy in your bag.

· Stateroom size and type vary dramatically. The cheapest rooms are interiors, no room and no view. Will that suffice? Is a porthole window adequate, or do you want floor to ceiling windows with a balcony? Check out options. A tiny room with barely enough space to turn around and no view may hinder your vacation satisfaction.

· Meals can be a challenge for the diet-conscious. There are plenty of selections, and buffets offer fresh fruit and salads, but hidden ingredients abound. The result can be too much salt, sugar, and other food no-no’s consumed. Another drawback - although menu offerings vary, the food can get monotonous. On the other hand the dining room responds to special requests, and the menu notes gluten free, non-dairy, and vegetarian options.

· The largest ships today accommodate around 6000 passengers, and a lot of walking may be necessary getting from stateroom to the dining room, the pool, to shops and showrooms and other venues. Wheelchairs and scooters are available for rent for the duration of a cruise, otherwise you’ll get your exercise! Check out ship details, especially if a cozier atmosphere and experience is preferred to a vacation shared with thousands of strangers.

· And speaking of strangers, shipmates, and strange shipmates...investigate the demographics of cruise lines and the specific voyage you are considering. Do you want to cruise with lots of kids? Young adults? A mixed age group? Do you prefer an older crowd? The population varies depending on the cruise line, length of the cruise, destinations, time of year, and cost.

· Large ships can result in crowds and lines, especially when sailing with maximum passenger numbers during holidays – a wait for a dining room table, a seat in the showroom, delays for an elevator.

· Hold your wallet close. There are cruise lines that truly are all-inclusive, but most are not. Hidden fees, such as mandatory room tips, crowd your bill. Employees encourage the purchase of drinks, specialty restaurant dining, souvenirs, jewelry, shore excursions and more. Internet access can be exorbitant ($25 a day on our Holland America ship – we resisted the temptation). If you can wait for port stops, wifi is usually accessible in restaurants and coffee shops.

· Know what type of vacation you want. Some people love the leisurely pace of cruise ship life; others get bored.

· Limited port time, usually only a few hours. If you like to explore new places, a cruise may not satisfy.

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes,

but in having new eyes.
-Marcel Proust

On the plus side of cruising...
As the 2020 elections approach, a cruise
is a delightful way to temporarily avoid the
political hype.