Seniors on easy street
We seniors do have it made.... “Easy Street, when you get there stay.”
That’s what they sang in “Annie.” Well, I’m there and would sure like to stay a good while longer, thank you very much.
In my last column here, I reported that sudden chest pains on my person in late August were quickly cured by four heart stents.
Only a few years ago, things could have been much more serious. That was before the advent of those newfangled stents. Think of them as tiny straws that are inserted in an artery to unclog it. So medical science is to blame for letting me keep on writing stuff like this.
And by the way, in a larger context, thanks to America for so lavishly keeping us seniors in fine fettle. Medicare Insurance kept my hospitalization from being a financial burden. The hospital bill for my four-day stay: an incredible $74,000, all covered. From the selfish standpoint, that’s great, but maybe not for everyone else who’s much younger and who will pay for such extravagance.
Up to now, life for us oldsters hasn’t really been all that difficult anyway. For there weren’t many of my old retired buddies to begin with. Many of us were Depression babies, an age cohort that is puny in relation to folks spawned later, during the post-World War II baby boom. So there have been lots of workers to support us few easy-street retirees.(Hat tip: Gwen Yeo.)
We’re the lucky ones. Can’t say you’ll have it so easy. It’s a major reason the Social Security retirement system is going bust. Our benefits keep getting sweeter. But now our ranks are swelling with the retiring baby boomers, leaving fewer workers to support us.
We’ve got it good for several reasons. One is that strong lobby for old folks, the AARP. Another is political clout far greater than our numbers for one reason: We all vote. Since little kids can’t, they get the short end of the stick. That’s politics.
We have another thing going for us: comaraderie. Many of us shared the country’s shattering experience of World War II. Most men served in the military. I sing in a retirees’ barbershop harmony group some 60 strong. All of us have military backgrounds. We have common interests, shared patriotic impulses.
There’s a further advantage for us here locally, Stafford County has lots of younger folks and not too many old ones. The reverse is unfortunately true in Florida, God’s waiting room.
Not surprisingly, laws favor us too. Virginia gives us a big income tax break. McDonald’s coffee is dirt cheap. The older you get the more likely you’ll become handicapped. Your special parking space awaits.
Unlike our own parents, we enjoy huge variety in entertainment, from 24-hour multichannel TV to personal computers to cell phones and endless sports contests. TV’s “Golden Girls,” personal favorites, never age.
And home cooking? Forget it. Microwaves and carryout conveniences everywhere are making relics of stovetops and ovens.
Cars have improved greatly: No more clutches or tire blowouts…Backup barkers that warn of imminently crushable grocery carts…Air, plus turn signals that fade our memories of having to use hand signals on cold days.
Now, builders are even constructing special villages for us. For seniors “55 and better” there are one-story low-maintenance homes nearby. No thanks.
Every time I drive through another such development springing up, the residents all look alike. That’s when I recall the song, “Thank heaven for little girls.” And boys. They live on my block and add to the pleasures of my neighborhood—and cut my grass.
Neighbors stick around longer, too. Back in the 1970s it’s said that more than 20 percent of Americans moved each year. Now it’s barely 15 percent.
“This trend toward staying put springs from attitudinal shifts…Americans are giving growing priority to a feeling of ‘community’…greater commitment to family life, neighborhood health and church participation,” wrote Joel Kotkin in a recent issue of American Enterprise.
I know. It must be difficult for you hardier youngsters to keep your temper when there’s an old guy doing weird things with his car in the middle of rush hour or holding up the checkout line fishing for his credit card. Just understand that one of these days you will, with luck, be one of us also.
We do tend to forget things. For example, I wanted to conclude this piece with a profound thought. Maybe next time I'll remember it.
That’s what they sang in “Annie.” Well, I’m there and would sure like to stay a good while longer, thank you very much.
In my last column here, I reported that sudden chest pains on my person in late August were quickly cured by four heart stents.
Only a few years ago, things could have been much more serious. That was before the advent of those newfangled stents. Think of them as tiny straws that are inserted in an artery to unclog it. So medical science is to blame for letting me keep on writing stuff like this.
And by the way, in a larger context, thanks to America for so lavishly keeping us seniors in fine fettle. Medicare Insurance kept my hospitalization from being a financial burden. The hospital bill for my four-day stay: an incredible $74,000, all covered. From the selfish standpoint, that’s great, but maybe not for everyone else who’s much younger and who will pay for such extravagance.
Up to now, life for us oldsters hasn’t really been all that difficult anyway. For there weren’t many of my old retired buddies to begin with. Many of us were Depression babies, an age cohort that is puny in relation to folks spawned later, during the post-World War II baby boom. So there have been lots of workers to support us few easy-street retirees.(Hat tip: Gwen Yeo.)
We’re the lucky ones. Can’t say you’ll have it so easy. It’s a major reason the Social Security retirement system is going bust. Our benefits keep getting sweeter. But now our ranks are swelling with the retiring baby boomers, leaving fewer workers to support us.
We’ve got it good for several reasons. One is that strong lobby for old folks, the AARP. Another is political clout far greater than our numbers for one reason: We all vote. Since little kids can’t, they get the short end of the stick. That’s politics.
We have another thing going for us: comaraderie. Many of us shared the country’s shattering experience of World War II. Most men served in the military. I sing in a retirees’ barbershop harmony group some 60 strong. All of us have military backgrounds. We have common interests, shared patriotic impulses.
There’s a further advantage for us here locally, Stafford County has lots of younger folks and not too many old ones. The reverse is unfortunately true in Florida, God’s waiting room.
Not surprisingly, laws favor us too. Virginia gives us a big income tax break. McDonald’s coffee is dirt cheap. The older you get the more likely you’ll become handicapped. Your special parking space awaits.
Unlike our own parents, we enjoy huge variety in entertainment, from 24-hour multichannel TV to personal computers to cell phones and endless sports contests. TV’s “Golden Girls,” personal favorites, never age.
And home cooking? Forget it. Microwaves and carryout conveniences everywhere are making relics of stovetops and ovens.
Cars have improved greatly: No more clutches or tire blowouts…Backup barkers that warn of imminently crushable grocery carts…Air, plus turn signals that fade our memories of having to use hand signals on cold days.
Now, builders are even constructing special villages for us. For seniors “55 and better” there are one-story low-maintenance homes nearby. No thanks.
Every time I drive through another such development springing up, the residents all look alike. That’s when I recall the song, “Thank heaven for little girls.” And boys. They live on my block and add to the pleasures of my neighborhood—and cut my grass.
Neighbors stick around longer, too. Back in the 1970s it’s said that more than 20 percent of Americans moved each year. Now it’s barely 15 percent.
“This trend toward staying put springs from attitudinal shifts…Americans are giving growing priority to a feeling of ‘community’…greater commitment to family life, neighborhood health and church participation,” wrote Joel Kotkin in a recent issue of American Enterprise.
I know. It must be difficult for you hardier youngsters to keep your temper when there’s an old guy doing weird things with his car in the middle of rush hour or holding up the checkout line fishing for his credit card. Just understand that one of these days you will, with luck, be one of us also.
We do tend to forget things. For example, I wanted to conclude this piece with a profound thought. Maybe next time I'll remember it.
posted by Ben Blankenship at
9:13 AM
