elder television

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Last night, Boston Legal hit one out of the ballpark for all of us elders who are tired of television programming aimed at every generation but ours. If you missed this episode, where the firm takes on the television industry for discriminating against the oldest generation, you can watch it when it shows up here. Unfortunately, this creatively funny, poignant, and topical series ends next week, and it is going out with a bang that I wish had been postponed. Like, forever.
In the argument to the court that law partner Carl Sack (Emmy Award winner John Larroquette) makes, he asserts that, on the average, people over 55 watch about 6 hours of television a day, compared to the 3 hours watched by young people, who are usually online or texting at the same time. The case is brought to the court by Catherine Piper (Betty White), who is bored, can’t get hired for a job because of her age, can’t bike or climb mountains etc. because of effects of aging, and so she watches television. Except there’s almost no programming aimed at entertaining people of her age.
It’s impossible to capture here in words the impact of the show’s acting and messages. You have to watch it and commiserate.
And there’s no way to capture the poignancy of Denny Crane (William Shatner) as he fights for the life he loves against the tyranny of Alzheimer’s.
The characters of Boston Legal are wackily intelligent, and most of them are over 60 years old. I’m going to miss them; I never missed a show. Hopefully, they will be running online for a long time to com.
From here:

For once, though, a widely admired TV drama’s dismissal has nothing to do with ratings. Boston Legal’s imminent retirement is of its own choosing. This time, creator David E. Kelley has decided to quit while ahead. Boston Legal may not go down as the greatest courtroom drama in TV history, but when the jury’s finally in, the verdict is likely to be more favourable than most.

The only show left that I never miss these days is Brothers and Sisters. But it’s no Boston Legal.
As I surfed around, looking to see if I could find any studies on elders and television, I stumbled upon a reference to this book (preview pages here). Published a decade ago, the book includes observations that are still valid.
It’s time for some new research on television watching by those of us over 60. It still seems pretty much a wasteland for people like us.

I’ve given out, given up, given in

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In a way, it’s a relief. I don’t have to go through all the complex strategizing to get him to compromise — only, each time, to come up against a stone wall. Actually, it’s more like being dumped into a vat full of jello. Either way, I get nowhere.
I’m out of energy and stamina. I give up. He can take care of our mother any way he wants.
He has arranged with a female musician friend of his to come and stay with our mother. Every once in a while. No set schedule. I’ve met her. She’s nice enough, and, as far as I can tell, my mother likes her.
I wanted him to hire someone from an agency who is trained to deal with dementia patients. That is, who knows what kind of patience is necessary to deal with someone who pretty much lives in her own personal reality, which sometimes overlaps with a more objective reality — but even then, with her own emotional twist. But he wouldn’t agree to that.
So, I give up, and I’m intellectually and emotionally distancing myself from the situation. I will come in once a month to visit my mom. I hope that we both can take the emotional stress. It’s almost better if she completely forgets who I am.
I’m hoping to be completely out of here and out of primary caregiving by the end of the year. It seems like forever.

what I am thankful for

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This thanksgiving, I am thankful for
a daughter and son-in-law and grandson who welcome me to live with them
that same daughter, who is cooking Thanksgiving dinner for about a dozen people on her birthday.
a son who can fix my mini-notebook that I crashed because SUSE sucks
the drugs that keep me functioning
my women friends who keep me functioning
the Internet that keeps my brain functioning
the fact that I can still function

it was only a matter of time

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My mom fell down. I wasn’t here. I was at my daughter’s, when my mother tripped and fell. My brother was with her; he said she lost her balance (which she does occasionally) and fell in his kitchen. She has a big bruise on her bad shoulder. And, she says, everything hurts.
When I got back here the day after she fell, against my brother’s wishes, I called an ambulance take her to the hospital. She couldn’t walk unless we held her up, and she was in a great deal of pain. My brother wanted to take her to a walk-in medical office that has an X-ray machine; we’ve taken her there before. But I didn’t want to take the chance. Suppose she had broken something.
The hospital X-rays showed no broken bones. A CAT scan of her head showed no pathology. It did show “volume loss,” however. (Like that’s a surprise??!!) The attending doctor wanted to keep her at least overnight because she was in danger of falling again. He wanted to hydrate her and give her a sedative (since she was agitated) and some tests, including blood. If she had stayed overnight, she would be been eligible for Medicare in-home help. My brother insisted on taking her home. So, we did.
She slept soundly that night and way into the day. Then she ate and went back to sleep.
And it has all gone downhill since then. She woke up at 3 a.m. this morning, incoherent except for crying that she wanted to go home and that everything hurt. I gave her an arthritis strength Tylenol, which seems to work well on her pain, and eventually, she went back to sleep. She repeated that scenario at 8:30 a.m. She gets up to eat something, and then goes back to sleep. While she’s up, she’s barely communicative.
The attending physician in the hospital gave me a script that says my mom needs one-on-one care 24/7 because there is a great probability that she will fall again unless someone has an eye on her constantly. .A nurse is coming tomorrow from the county’s Adult Protective Services to evaluate her condition and her living situation. That is part of my strategy to put as much pressure on him as I can to hire someone to come in and help with her care while I’m going through my move — and, of course, after.
But it is only a matter of time.

so, that’s how it is

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I’m standing by the kitchen window, looking out at the trees and the pure blue sky, drinking hot chocolate and eating challah smeared with Smart Balance. My daughter’s voice drifts in from the living room, where she is reading a book to my grandson, who is sprawled on the couch nursing a fever and a cold. The book is one I bought her when she was a child — “Grandma and Machek,” about a Polish grandmother who tells her granchildren the story of her living in Poland as a little girl and how her friend Machek (who became their grandfather) outwitted a wolf. They are doing a home school unit on making a family tree, and we have just finished looking at two fading photograpsh of my 1940s extended family — one that includes more than 50 people. I showed him the ones who came over through Ellis Island. He is interested in every detail.
Such is my life without care(giving).
But in a few minutes, I will be leaving to go back to the turmoil of the other part of my family, where my mom, who is in her nightgown day and night, needs better care than she is getting when I’m not there.
I visited a nursing home yesterday that’s located 1.3 miles from my daughter’s house and has a secure dementia unit with an enclosed outdoor courtyard. The bedrooms are big and sunny, with room for personal furniture etc. Unless my brother hires someone to come in and help with my mom during both this transition of my leaving and my actual departure, I will fight him for her guardianship and power of attorney. She deserves better than she gets from him; and I just can’t give any more. I could see myself volunteering at the nursing home a couple of mornings a week and visiting her several days a week, at least until she gets acclimated.
My brother wants her, but doesn’t know how to give her the kind, patient, consistent care that she needs. I just want to see her get good care. And I need to take care of myself for a change.
And that’s how it is, as I go from this place of peace to that place of war. It never had to be this way, but that’s how it is.

old time teachers

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That’s what we are now, I guess, to today’s kids. We were educated to be teachers more than 40 years ago, before MTV, before rap, before Marshall McLuhan, before school shootings, and definitely before the Internet. We saw ourselves as professionals and dressed and behaved accordingly. We spent a lot of time preparing for our classes and saw ourselves as the guiders of young minds — inspirers and role models. And we worked hard to make learning exciting and fun for our students.
Some of us eventually moved into other fields; most of us are retired, now. Schools and kids have changed so much that I know I could never handle one of today’s classrooms.
That’s not the case for my old friend, John Sullivan, who, although retired from the CIA and a published author, still manages to do substitute teaching. The other day, I got this email from him:

Earlier this month, when I began subbing, I hadn’t taught a high school class since I was in graduate school in 1969. During the time our two sons were in high school, I became aware that things had changed, but this awareness didn’t prepare me for this new age high school.

One of the two schools in which I subbed is the same high school from which our older son graduated, and there are still some administrators and faculty there whom I know. The student body includes the entire socio-economic spectrum as well as students who, according to the principal, speak 75 languages. There are hints of Blackboard Jungle there, but only hints.

One of the teachers for whom I subbed left a note about one of the classes, to wit: “John, this is the class from hell, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.” I went into the class a bit nervous, to say the least, and was very surprised at how well it went. At least half of the kids are Latinos, and for whatever reason, we hit it off. I talked to the teacher the next day, and he kept pointing out that he just couldn’t communicate with them, and he was obviously afraid of them.

One of the seniors in one of the AP classes I had is a borderline genius, has a serious stuttering problem and has been accepted to Harvard. A girl in a Freshman AP class came back from lunch, and in reply to my quetion, “how was lunch”, said, “It was ok, but some Jewish guy tried to stick my head in the toilet.” When she said she hadn’t reported it, she also said, “I took care of it. I beat him up.”

The only semi serious problem I had was with a disruptive Afghani kid, but it worked out.

One of the bigger adjustments I have to make is the almost slovenliness of the male teachers. Some of them are unshaven, dress like rag pickers and look more like students than teachers. The desk, and working area around the desk of the teacher for whom I subbed yesterday looked as if it had been hit by a tornado. Papers, books, CDs etc. were strewn everywhere.

All of this being said, and as tiring as it was, I have gotten some great feedback from the kids and other faculty with whom I worked. At the end of my last class yesterday (a Freshman AP history class), the kids gave me a spontaneous ovation. I liked it.

I’m sure that there are some young “old time” teachers out there, and I have the utmost respect for them. I watch my daughter, who is home schooling my grandson, carry on the tradition of this family as she stimulates a love of learning and a curious intellect in our energetic six-year-old.
Encouraging changes in the teaching and learning of today’s schools is an essential part of President-elect Obama’s plan for improving education. But government can only do so much. The dedication of parents and teachers to creating and providing exciting learning environments is key. And school bureaucrats need to retool themselves into committed educators as well.
Meanwhile, teachers like John will continue to make a difference, one classroom at a time.

five things

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Ex-Lion Tamer tagged me for posting five interesting things about me.
I had to do some serious thinking about this, since these days, my life is about as interesting as a bowl of cold oatmeal.
1. I once accidentally left a pink satin teddy in a bed at a New York City hotel where my daughter was waitressing/singing.
2. For more than twenty-five years people assumed that I had curly hair because I always had a perm.
3. Last night my mother and I stayed up until 2 a.m. watching “Lilies of the Field,” and I realized that I had never seen the movie before! Sidney Poitier was totally HOT!
4. I hardly ever read non-fiction. I am usually reading two fiction books at the same time and listening to a third on my MP3 player as I fall asleep. Understandably, I often don’t remember the stories a month later.
5. I started two craft businesses thus far in my lifetime, doing craft fairs and selling to folks who found out about my wares by word of mouth. The first I called “Self-stones,” and I turned tumbled stones into various simple accessory items and packaged them with a description of the magical lore and healing properties associated with those stones. The second was called “Sass & Chic,” and I sold shawls that I crocheted in a spiral from a pattern that I designed. Here’s a photo of four, two of which I embellished with washable pony beads.
shawls.jpg
Of course, I never really made any money from either craft business. But I had fun.
I need to figure out how to have some fun in the future.

this circular life

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It’s hard not to feel mired in the moment today, as I wander around my current living space, stepping around half-filled boxes and over piles of belongings about which I have to decide whether I still want them belonging to me. Or me to them.
Getting a phone call from my college roommate (through undergrad and grad school) helped to remind me what I’ve blogged about before — all my life’s a circle. The friends I have made, both online and off, are still out there, and inevitably they circle back into connection.
{Ah, the phone is ringing again. It’s one of my long-time close friends in Albany, checking in to see how I’m holding up. We make arrangements to meet for lunch on Tuesday, after I pick up the laptop I crashed from my geek wizard on my way through Albany to my daughter’s.}
Two days ago, I got a comment left on my blog from a former colleague with whom I lost touch more than a decade ago. She found me on Google. Once, on the spur of the moment while we were both still working, we flew out to Key West for a week. I usually don’t do things like that, but she does, and we had a great time. I took a bunch of photos with my feet in them and put them into an photo album I titled “Footloose in the Last Resort.” I had the energy to be creative, then, despite a very demanding job.
This has been an unusual spurt of re-connections, of giving the becalmed circular motion of my life a jump start.