Cool Saging Conversations: Generation Segregation

Good Idea or Bad Medicine?

Boom is the sound the baby generation makes when it explodes the old Old. TM

Let me say upfront; there is no right answer to this question. At best, you might find the right answer for you.

I am proud to be a baby boomer. While I don’t necessarily broadcast my age, I don’t hide it, either. The postwar babies born between 1946 and 1964 are a unique generation with a generous span of fascinating life experiences. The question is whether we want to spend most of our time with “our own” as our main companions and primary influences.

My husband Tim and I talk regularly about whether we should consider a 55+ active community like Sun City. (We have two of that brand and several others in the greater Sacramento region.) He has some physical limitations, and I have some conditions that nag and potentially could become more than annoyances. If we moved to a mature adult community, it would make our neighbors all close to our own age or older.

Truth is, we relish our privacy and know only a few of our neighbors after living in our home eleven years. My communities stretch way beyond neighborhood geography considering cyber, work, and organizational connections. I can’t say we know any of our neighbors well, although we have a pleasant relationship with those we see regularly, especially our wonderful next-door neighbors. Yet there are potential physical barriers to our current home we love. This knowledge keeps us on the brink of realism about how long we can stay here.

My uncle lived in the family homestead on Long Island past the deaths of his parents and his sisters, who lived with him most of the time. He lingered there until shoveling snow and some of the other heavy work just became too much for him as he rounded 80. A few years ago, he moved to an active senior condo complex not far from his home of over 50 years. It was the best thing he’s ever done! His only regret is that he didn’t do it sooner.

Uncle Mike and his condo-mates are family to one another—they eat, drink, and play together on a frequent basis. There’s always a card game, a birthday to celebrate, an invite for dinner, or some trip they’re planning. Since moving there, Mike has been on cruises to the Mediterranean, Canada and the Caribbean—air and bus trips Las Vegas and the Saratoga, NY races and other “gambler specials.” The way the community cares for each other and its camaraderie are touching. We loved spending Thanksgiving at the condo a few years ago and meeting many of these lively people, not to mention all the amenities of a pool and gym on site.

I am a mind and spirit kind of person. It’s more important to me to be with kindred spirits than to be with a kindred age group. Like mindedness and a broad view from the mountaintop about life is the neighborhood I need to live in. Oddly, that’s often easier to find on the Internet than anywhere because here we connect mind to mind and heart to heart and by like interests. If we’re lucky, we might meet face to face someday. Still, I’m not naïve enough to think it’s good to be too homogenous when it comes to friends and family. That can quickly go from kindred spirits to cliquish or clannish—just a step away from exclusionary. I wonder for myself; where is the balance?

Other practical considerations: As we age, we lose friends and family at a faster pace. Tim’s sister and husband live in a 55+ active community where they are beginning to attend one funeral after another. Sometimes, their layers of grief on top of grief are hard to bear. Yet, they also feel solace knowing that whichever one of them goes first, the other will go on in a caring community of support. If for no other reason than the terrible prospect of being the last one standing, I am grateful that several of my close friends are 10-15 years younger than I am, especially since I don’t have children or grandchildren. Theoretically, I won’t outlive all my friends. Still, if I think about it, even the youngest among my close friends is technically a boomer, thanks to the fact that our generation is defined by an 18-year age span.

When I made the decision early this year to revision my blog, there were many reasons that motivated me. One I may not have emphasized; I was not comfortable with age segregation. It took a quote on Twitter from my cartoonist friends at Perrie Meno-Pudge that finally helped me realize why:

The key to successful aging is to pay as little attention to it as possible. ~Judith Regan

There’s nothing that makes me feel older than talking about aging too much, even in a positive way. There’s nothing that makes me feel younger than diving into life and dealing with the petty annoyances of aging as comical asides and not the real drama.

Bottom line, I don’t want my age to define me. Of course there’s a place for boomer forums, how-to’s and humor, or I wouldn’t be writing this article. Yet, if we truly become what we give energy to, I think I’ll stay away from senior segregation and an age-related focus for now and keep feeding my timeless spirit.

And if a time comes when I don’t have a realistic choice but to live exclusively among the saging set, I’ll make the best of it—and hang out with the most young- at-heart and upbeat boomers in the batch to keep me on my toes!

~~~

Cool Saging Conversations is an occasional feature retained from when Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights was geared to a baby boomer audience. When issues arise that impact our generation and I feel compelled to comment, the cool sages watching boomers blow up the old Old will come out. I hope our boomer readers still enjoy seeing them. As ever, your feedback is welcome.

A Special Happy Birthday to my sister, Janet—a regular reader of Hot Flashbacks. I won’t give away her age, but I have to rib her a little and tell you she’s the older sister, even if not by much!

Make This List Before Your "Bucket List"

Blowing Up the old Old!

This post is in response to Pop Art Diva’s Saturday Soapbox, “Do You Have a Bucket List?”

I loved the movie, The Bucket List, with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. Most people have a “bucket list” in their minds—things they want to do before they “kick the bucket.” This delightfully mismatched pair of characters really got into it in a big way, traveling the world to complete their quest, even though they both had terminal illnesses. Their last-ditch "do-before-dying" included items of wild abandon like skydiving and emotional completion—a reunion with an estranged family member.

We hate this reminder, but life itself is terminal. We just don’t know how long we’ve got on this beautiful planet. My awareness of this fact has become more acute now that I am over 60, a number it pains me to type!

As I’ve contemplated my List, I’ve had a strange but wonderful realization. Many of the exotic travels and accomplishments I have hoped for, off and on in my life, pale in comparison to what I already have—and have done. This reminds me of one of my favorite quotes:

Happiness isn’t getting what you want; it’s wanting what you have.

It also reminds me of the key to all manifestation and joy I have learned by living with eyes open to insight. Happiness stems from gratitude. Grateful receivers appreciate life’s gifts and continue in the flow of prosperity and divine surprises. By getting into the habit of being thankful for what you already have every day, it may surprise you how you’ll trim that Bucket List down to manageable size! Let’s face it. This could be helpful. After all, even if we live to be 100-plus, we are still in the second half of life with only limited years to achieve our goals.

It’s usually easier to see how the gratitude principal works in someone else, because we are so close to our own desires, the longings that lead to the Bucket List. Often we’ve been wed to those wants for so many years; we are not objective.

I saw how it works in someone I have been wed to for 11 years, my husband. When medical issues changed his life dramatically, he was lost and angry and understandably depressed. Over time, I have seen him transform into someone who is truly content. He loves our home nestled in nature, our pets, our life—and especially me. (Lucky me!) Stripped of the outer trappings of work and other externals that normally contribute so much to our self-worth, Tim finally has begun to find it from within—the genuine article.

So, here’s my thought. Before you write your Bucket List, write your Gratitude List. It may shorten the exercise and make it a lot easier for you!

Yes, I’d love to travel more, if and when resources allow. My fantasy trip is to visit the countries of Tim’s/my ethnic backgrounds: Poland and Luxembourg for him, Greece (again), Slovakia, and Hungary for me. We’d both love to go to Australia and New Zealand and to spend more time in Hawaii.

I want to publish books, many of them. But if what I have learned in life is helpful to those who most appreciate it, whether on my blogs, website,Twitter, or a conversation over coffee, I have really lived a life with purpose. I have already received feedback many times that I have made a difference to people.

Maybe your Bucket List, too, is shorter than you think and your life is richer—than you knew, however long or short it turns out to be.

~~~

Read these past Cool Saging Conversations:

Maintenance, Optimism, and Mind Games (MOM-G)

Keep Boomer Bucks in Flux; Find the Soul in Your Money
Techno-Boom!
Necessity is the Mother of Invention
Don’t Be A Dinosaur

Do You Really Want to Live to Be a Hundred?

“Edie” turns 100 at the end of this month. She is not happy about it.

My brother-in-law’s mom is a total character. Twenty years ago, I suspect she was like Grandma Mazur in the Stephanie Plum novels by Janet Evanovich. In her youth, she was surely Auntie Mame.

Until recently, Edie had all her wits about her, but she has been complaining most of the decade I have known her, “I don’t know what the hell I’m still doing here.” Then she goes on a monologue grumbling to God, who apparently doesn’t know what He’s doing.

She’s actually in great health, overall, except her teeth are wearing out. She is outliving them. Her 75-year-old son says all the time, “She’s in better shape than I am. I swear; she’ll outlive me.” Teeth, sons—she leaves them in the wake of more longevity than the Energizer Bunny.

Edie has lost nearly all of her extended family, although she is fortunate to have her two adult children nearby. They spend what time they can with her, and she’s in a lovely board and care home that could pass for yours or mine. In fact, it looks a lot better than mine. Her room is spotless, and she loves to show off her trinkets and treasures when we visit. That’s about as excited as she gets about anything these days, although I hear coffee ice cream also gets a rise out of her.

I don’t know—but I suspect—her boredom with life has finally taken its toll, probably more a cause for deterioration than age itself. I can’t remember when she last had something to sink her teeth into, which may be why they are weakening. Sure, she likes seeing her daughter, son, granddaughter, and great-grandkids … but her spark has gone out.

I’ll never forget the day we first met. At the time, my husband and I were living together, not married. That made me suspect for starters. After her grand entrance, Edie took a piercing look at me—a head to toe evaluation. She announced, “My name is Edith. You can call me Edie. I ask a lot of questions. You’ll get used to it.”

Fortunately, I had been warned about her and was braced for her blunt nosiness. I came to be more amused than annoyed by her pointed inquiries; and she became very fond of me. I made sure we did her many kindnesses, always remembering her on birthdays and major holidays. I thought she was a kick in the pants, still do, and can’t help but love her for all her rough edges and downright crusty nature.

This Christmas, though, she wasn’t her old self. She’s starting to slip. “How old am I?” she asked me. Apparently, she asks others family members the same thing all the time.

When I told her she was almost 100, it was as news to her. “I’m gonna be a hundred? I had no idea I was that old. I never thought I’d live that long.”

At first, Edie’s lack of enthusiasm about life was such an antithesis to my own lust for it, I had a hard time accepting her longing for death. She has a plot back East and her funeral arrangements all made. She can’t wait to keep the date. I’ll miss her, but another part of me can’t help but hope she’ll get what she longs for.

Edie is my flip side. I constantly worry that I’ll run out of time before I can do what I really want to do. I don’t mind dying; I just mind doing it before I feel finished. Edie is done.

Over the years, I began to understand and even honor her desire to die, regardless of the fact that, so far, God won’t have it. We’ve chanted all the clichés about how He’s not done with her yet. They are not comforting.

Edie’s eyesight and hearing are fading. This was an eye-opener to me, no pun intended, considering I already have sensory challenges, and I'm forty years younger than Edie. Makes me wonder how I’d fare at 100. Further, it makes me wonder if I even want to belong to the Centenarian Club. A lot of joy went out of Edie’s life along with the ability to read books. The audiocassette player and books on tape we got her didn’t appeal, even before her hearing worsened. I’m sure I’d lose a lot of my spark without the stimulation of constant learning or entertainment.

This story may sound dreary, but I think Edie is telling us something about life. Life without passion is empty. We see people all the time who are physically broken, even mentally or developmentally challenged, but as long as they are doing something they love, they are vital. A hundred would be glorious as long as I still have zest for living and reasonable health. Otherwise, I don’t think so.

Next time I hear the clock’s loud ticking toward a vague Running Out of Time, I’ll remember what I’ve learned from Edie. She has helped me rethink things.

Maybe I don’t have to feel done before I die. Better to have some mountains to climb, some passions still stirring, and a well-padded To Do List than to be done and have life left over.

~~~

Postcript: Since I wrote this piece in January 2008, Edie finally got her wish. She passed peacefully last spring at the age of 100. This is a tribute to her.

Topical Link: World’s Oldest Woman Turns 115

Photo Credit: WITH AGE COMES WISDOM © Rinderart Dreamstime.com

© Joyce Mason, 2009 – All Rights Reserved

COOL SAGING CONVERSATIONS: Maintenance, Optimism, and Mind Games (MOM-G)

Blowing Up the old Old!

This post is in response to Pop Art Diva’s Saturday Soapbox, “What Does It Being Over 50 Mean to You Physically, Mentally, and Emotionally?”

When a friend of mine retired, he said he realized he had a new job--to take care of himself. For those of us who have been workaholics and boomers who do too much, what a concept! Soon I learned with great hilarity that truer words were never spoken. My variety of “elder” ailments are legion from creaking knees to sensory losses (mostly hearing), and a bunch of annoyances in-between. My memory, once sharp as a tack, feels more like someone tore a few holes in it with a tack.

Still, I am with it enough to realize I forget things more often now. I plan accordingly. I have more methods for remembering (paper, electronic, strings around my finger). I am willing to let go of some perfectionism. And I have conceded that I have to spend at least 30-40% of my time on maintenance, and that’s just how it is—routine doctor’s appointments; buying, organizing, and taking a boatload of supplements; exercise in various forms; and worrying that there may come a day I can no longer do the job of taking care of myself. Will I be as lucky as my second cousin Florence who lived at home till she died at 92?

All of these facts are very humbling and require even larger doses of humor than the funny bone that has gotten me this far in life. My biggest antidote is to stay upbeat and to monitor my influences. No fuddy duddies, no snarky old age jokes, and no one who has anything but an empowered vision of what I call “cool saging.” Losses are difficult. They increase as we go. I keep a close stash of younger friends and relatives. They help me “keep pace.”

Since I believe AARP and the various studies that mind games keep you sharp, I play my favorite word games daily. They let me know when I’m not up to par and sharpen the old mental saw to allow me to continue to be a cut-up.

Cool saging is a decision. Old age is for the birds. Dodo birds! When I see how some severely disabled people still have a great quality of life, I am even more inspired. My husband and I caught Michael J. Fox on Letterman this week talking about his new book, “Always Looking Up: The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist.” Tim has more health challenges than I do. I went right out and bought the book. If Mike Fox can be happy and funny with Parkinson’s, I’m adopting him as one of my new younger friends to keep up with.

~~~

Read these past Cool Saging Conversations:

Keep Boomer Bucks in Flux; Find the Soul in Your Money

Techno-Boom!

Necessity is the Mother of Invention

Don’t Be A Dinosaur

Googley-Eyed

When I read my blog statistics, one of my favorite parts is the list of key words, the combo of terms that have brought people to my site. Nestled among the word strings that make sense, such as my name, my blog name, and the names of anything I have ever written, there is a treasure trove of food for thought and wonder. I divide them into three categories: Who Knew, Headlines and LOL!

Who Knew?
Someone searched for “Auntie Mame ringback tone.” She’s my heroine. If I’d have known she had one, it would already be on my cell phone. (Perhaps “Mame,” the theme from the musical version of the play/movie?)

"Nite-nite bear with womb sounds" – I’ve heard of teddy bears that replicate mom’s heartbeat, but the idea of an auditory trip back to the womb? I want one! Especially on those days when I wish I could crawl not just back under the covers, but back into my mom for cover.

“Santa’s got the aids ringtone.” I cannot imagine what that ringtone would sound like— even hard to conjure my sense of humor about it. Blue Christmas?

Headlines
“Joyce Mason Trek died age” cued me into the fact that one of my namesakes is no longer among us. I mentioned her in my last post. Joyce headed the William Shatner fan club and hosted a Star Trek fan radio show for years. She also was a major part of my Google Yourself experiment, may she rest in peace. If you have a name that’s at all common, Google yourself to find out who else shares it.

It blew my mind to find out that most of the other Joyce Masons seem to do the same or similar things as I do. There is something in a name! Star Trek Joyce was my star link since I am an astrologer, each of us loving space and space characters in our own way. Another JM is a writer/publisher, too. Her business is called Joyce Mason Ink, a name I considered myself. Yet another who lives in my own metro area is a green building realtor, an affinity with my long government career on recycling issues. I suspect she is probably the other JM that my eco-oriented cleaners is always attempting to differentiate from me, to be sure I get out the same dry cleaning that I put in. There is a JM Canadian moviemaker and a JM gospel singer. At one point, I planned to get a master’s degree in script writing, and one of the biggest joys of my life was singing in a church choir.

LOL!
I was definitely laughing out loud when I read “lack of sexual desire Blogspot.” I had no idea that my sometimes sagging libido has something to do with the fact that I blog on Google’s Blogger—you know, us guys ‘n’ gals with “blogspot” in our blog addresses. Note to Google: This is not a selling point. If this continues, I’ll have to change platforms or Google the female counterpart for Viagra.

While we’re on health concerns, sexual or otherwise, I’m still scratching my head over “lethargy no moon.” I’d be lethargic if I lost my moon, too. This person is definitely spaced or comes from another planet, because Earth has one. Note to Googler: When the Moon is new, you just can’t see it for a few days. No need to Google or call Missing Persons to see if they can find the missing (celestial) body. However, if this refers to no moon as in a skipped menstrual cycle, if you’re lethargic and skipped your period, consider you might be pregnant.

“Sex hot lulu garb very hot.” I want some of that lulu garb. It’s obviously the antidote to “lack of sexual desire Blogspot.”

“Spaghetti agli e oglio toddler recipe.” By all means, if you’re going to eat little children, you should sauté them into garlic spaghetti. (If the person who Googled this is reading my blog, please get help immediately!)

I don’t know if you’re having fun yet, but if you have a blog yourself and haven’t discovered this giggly Googley pastime, please check it out and share your best key word combos with us. Or share the best word strings you have Googled yourself …

… or at least those you’re willing to admit!


~~~

Dragnet Theme Music: The Google stories you just heard are true. Since statistics are anonymous, there are are no names to change to protect the innocent.

Comment Credit! Don’t forget our Spring Comment Caper and the chance to win a free book in a drawing on April 23.

Photo credit: CROSS EYED FUNNY FACE WOMAN © Creativest... Dreamstime.com

Identity Crisis

I love the name of this blog, Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights. That’s also the title of my memoir I hope to have out later this year. But it wasn’t always the name of my book.

The original title was Hot Flashes of Insight! In some ways, I liked it better for its connection between female hormones and hypersensitive perceptions. That link has been true and dramatic for me, especially around the time surgically induced hot flashes threw me into hot flashbacks. The flashbacks were memories and figurative light bulbs that haven’t stopped flashing since (1992).

With time, I came to realize that the accent was on the wrong sylLABle by using a title that centered on the words hot flashes. My memoir is not about menopause—nor is this blog. Menopause did play a role. The instant estrogen dip and its symptoms, raging out of control, ignited what I already had a lot of—rampant intuition. Even more so, hot flashes ignited instant memory videos of incidents that somehow tied together the themes and learning trajectories of my life. This continued long past menopause, which happened for me early at age 45, due to an illness that required the surgery. The flashbacks, not the flashes, were the gift; so, it made no sense to me to accent hot flashes, even if they were the catalyst. Besides, I’d just as soon forget that miserable era of my life when I was thrown into “the change” instantly and could not do hormone replacement for medical reasons. I was a weepy wreck!

Because of my blog and book name, “hotflashbacks” became my handle on a number of social networking sites, one of my main e-mail addresses, and a way people have come to know me. I don’t mind that. From the Fast Lane to Social Security, it’s fun to flash back on what we’ve learned in order to figure out where we’re going to go next and how to make it groovy.

It’s Really about the Cool Insights
I’ve been musing for some time now about how the more important part of the title is “cool insights.” If we can’t make sense and grow from our experiences, it’s all just an old movie. Maybe it’s a comedy, maybe a drama; maybe a bit of both. But the movie critic in me wants to know “What’s It All About, Alfie?” I want to learn from my mistakes and make new ones!

Identity Crisis: A Way of Life
Naming is powerful. One of the songs sung at the christening ritual at my church goes, “Praise to the One who called and named you, up from the waters into life.” It implies that a child’s name is divinely given, channeled from Above, and written in the Book of Life, long before a baby incarnates on Earth. Even in fiction, every character I name is with great purpose and meaning. In keeping with our ongoing discussions about affirmations, one’s name is their most personal affirmation, something that is reaffirmed constantly over a lifetime. My husband likes that I have “joy” in my name. Me, too. But on the darker side, how can we be surprised that Bernie Madoff “made off” with so much of other people’s money?

As an adopted person, I never knew my original name until I sleuthed it out when searching for my birth mom. I consider it my secret, spiritual name that I only share with close intimates. It’s a beautiful name in its own right, but it’s “not me.” That makes sense, too. When my birth mom made the difficult decision to give me up out of love and a promise for a better life with two parents present and participating, she named me as she saw me then. My name was her vision of who I would have been, had she been able to raise me herself. That was not my path; therefore, my original name is not my “real” name.

Joyce Mason is my name by adoption. I have had this name since I was three weeks old. For reasons I’ll explore in another post later this year, I have steadfastly refused to give it up for marriage or any other reason. I love that in numerology, it has a 22 vibration that parallels my birthday on the 22nd of the month. Twenty-two is a master number—in fact, it is known as The Master Builder. It reflects someone who builds on solid rock with a purpose greater than herself. My “brick layer” surname, Mason, says the same. Builds on solid structures. One of the many business identities I have tried on and used periodically for writing services, such as résumés, is Wordmason—my slogan, Words built to last. Then there is the Fraternal Order of Masons, a rather mystical organization. I have a huge dose of the mystic in me—yet another reason to love my name. All ‘round, it’s “my vibe.”

Identity Crisis du Jour
On Twitter, I can only have one screen name with a maximum of 15 characters. There, I’ve been known as “hotflashbacks,” but now I have two blogs and two unique identities—baby boomer and astrologer. I have actually had the astrologer identity much longer, since the late 1980s. It didn’t seem right to continue to be “hotflashbacks” when I now have at least one other hat or mask to wear.

I struggled between “coolinsights” or “coolinsighter” and simply using my name, “joycemason.” Whatever I write, cool insights are the motivation. They’re the juicy core of the Tootsie Pop. The subject or flavor doesn’t matter. Even my short stories and mystery novel are insight-laden. I was tempted to use “coolinsights” to keep half of the Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights brand front ‘n’ center.

In the end, I decided that I am the true common denominator in everything I write. My Radical Virgo blog advocates the importance of being who we are, especially our optimal selves, because who we are is our unique gift. One of my favorite sayings that says it all: It’s not what we do; it’s who we are. When we become our unique selves, we do what comes out of fulfilling our Self. That’s why it’s called fulfillment. The Radical Virgo advocates a psycho-spiritual approach to evolutionary astrology, where we rise to be the best of our unique pattern. It’s our imprint for the personal evolution of our body, mind, and spirit.

Even though I am less comfortable in the limelight than it looks, life has always demanded that I take the stage. Being “out there” may be a stretch, but if growth is what I’m about, I have to come all the way out of the closet. Whose cool insights are they, anyway? If my way of seeing the world is my gift to give, why call it anything else but what it is—mine? If Erma Bombeck were alive today, her Twitter handle wouldn’t be funnylady; it’d be ermabombeck. Oprah isn’t talkshowhost; she uses several variations of oprah.

So, joycemason is it. I doubt you'll forget I’m the one with the Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights. Hopefully, what I write will be as memorable as who I am—intertwined and indistinguishable.

~~~

What’s in your name? If numerology fascinates you, here’s a starter website,

Seven Top Numerology Sites Reviewed. Another way of exploring your name—besides learning the meanings of first, middle, and last—are anagrams. You’d be surprised what words might be lurking in your moniker! If you want to have fun exploring this option, visit Internet Anagram Server. Bring a beverage. You’re likely to be there a long time!

Photo credit: BUSINESS IDENTITY © Khz Dreamstime.com

COOL SAGING CONVERSATIONS: Keep Boomer Bucks in Flux; Find the Soul in Your Money

Cool Saging Conversations has been moved from the sidebar to a regular post. It will appear on Saturdays.

This week’s Cool Saging Conversation is a response to Pop Art Diva’s Saturday Soapbox. Her topic is “Today’s Economy – What’s It Doing to Retiring Boomers?”

The impacts have been widely published. For many of us, it means putting off retirement or full retirement. At my house, the plan to draw from my husband’s 401k until I can collect Social Security is no longer a viable gap-financing plan. Since most of his retirement fund is in stocks, cashing in at a fraction of the face value does not make sense. We’ll hold till the market recovers. That means I’m back to work part-time as a retired annuitant. I am grateful to have work among friends, helping the worthy cause of environmental education. I work at my outside job less than two days a week; one at home. In a perfect world, I’d be writing full-time, but in today’s reality, I feel completely blessed for this “bridge work.”

Last night, I had dinner with several friends. An attorney I know, a woman I admire for her wise investments, considerable net worth, and keen planning skills, is completely reworking her life. She envisioned living on her beachfront property on the California coast by now. Instead, she’s selling it. As she sees it, she’ll be working another 6-7 years, newly self-employed. She enjoyed semi-retirement, as I did. But for now, it’s back to work!

I’m not so sure that going back to work is terrible for most boomers. We are not the “retiring” type, either in the literal or figurative sense. We have been forced to keep our boomer brains active learning cyber tools and ways to keep up in an ever-changing world. We are not exactly the “old” dogs of yesteryear that can’t learn new tricks.

I love Pop Art’s idea that all boomers should flex our collective cash flow power by going out and spending $50 on something we were too afraid to buy. I believe surviving this deep valley in global finances requires a balance between hording and spending foolishly.

Since I like to view life from the vast lane, I am more concerned about how our collective mental and emotional attitudes impact this crisis. Another friend of mine who was at dinner last night just came back from a workshop in New Mexico on “fund raising from the heart” with Lynne Twist, a woman from Marin County, CA who has raised over $100 million to stave off world hunger. One of her points? Money does no good unless it’s circulating. We need to keep money flowing without blowing it.

This is a time to reassess whether our spending aligns with our values. Lynne Twist’s book, The Soul of Money: Transforming Your Relationship with Money and Life, would make a great read for anyone who wants to use this economic free-fall to his or her optimal advantage. What if we all spent money in integrity on what we value most? I want to live long in that world!

More importantly, our dinner conversation came back to yet another profound concept. Parts of our current economic system are dying a natural death, and they need to be helped through this process in the same way we’d give compassionate hospice care to dying relatives. Fierce competition and planned obsolescence cannot work in a global economy. If there is any lesson flashing in neon lights, it’s that we are all interconnected now—not just a hippy dippy metaphysical idea, but in fact. What happens to the One happens to the All. Let’s give the bits of our economic system that no longer serve us a dignified death while we find ways to wrap our money in our highest purpose. This is more than “back to work.” The real work is the reworking/rehaul of our economic system.

Like the phoenix that rises from the ashes, I believe our economy will come back stronger, fairer, and pave the way to a better world. Overnight? Probably not. Hold the vision—and don’t hold back all your cash!

Go spend 50 bucks on something that really matters to you.

~~~

Read these past Cool Saging Conversations:

Techno-Boom!

Necessity is the Mother of Invention

Don’t Be A Dinosaur

Spring Comment Caper!

Visits to Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights have been up 40 percent in the past month!

Thank you, readers, both tried-and-true as well as newcomers. To my new readers, welcome! I love reading the blog stats each night and finding out the many cities, states, and countries that make up our eclectic audience of Cool Insighters.

While visits are up, comments are down. I love an interactive blog, so I’m hosting a spring drawing to encourage more of you to “talk amongst yourselves.” Each time you do, I’ll put your name into a hat. The more you comment, the better chance you have to win!

The drawing period will run from Spring Equinox (March 20) through Earth Day (April 22). On the April 23, I’ll draw the lucky name. You’ll receive an autographed copy of the mystery short-story collection written by the authors in my local Sisters in Crime Chapter. It’s called Capital Crimes: 15 Tales by Sacramento Area Authors. My story, “Digital,” provides the comic relief. Questions? E-mail me at hotflashbacks@gmail.com. Meanwhile, let’s spring back with more Hot/Cool conversations!

Information Indigestion

Information overload is the new Alzheimer’s. It makes us fuzzy-headed and mentally bloated. It feels like a bellyache in the brain. We stuff ourselves, day and night, at the All You Can Eat Info Buffet. We are glutted with mental stimulation, luring us with its delicious aromas of fun, friendship, news, games, and get-rich schemes. There’s more information to digest in a day than most of us used to swallow in a month, maybe even a year. If someone can invent an Alka-Seltzer for the mind, that genius will be laughing all the way to the bank.

At least once I week, I think I have entered senility early, a prospect that is very worrisome to a baby boomer. The symptoms: I have misplaced yet another important piece of paper or lost track of some file, on- or off-line. I’m constantly asking people to re-send things or tell me something over again. (I know we have a close working relationship when I’m no longer too embarrassed to ask.) I used to track so well. Now I forget names and details. Where did they go?

If the Industrial Revolution changed our lives, the Information Revolution is changing how we live and process data more than any paradigm shift in recorded history. Supposedly, we use only a paltry percentage of our brains. That’s not only embarrassing to me, anymore; it’s a handicap. The need to process more information faster has me doing daily mind aerobics—word games and puzzles to stoke the fire of my synapses. I’m bent on shaking up a few memory cells and leaping around cyberspace more limber and muscular in my gray matter.

Even the brightest people are having a hard time handling the bombardment on all sides by info, info, info. You’ve probably heard the initials TMI. A couple of decades ago, it sadly stood for Three Mile Island and a terrible nuclear disaster. Now when someone says TMI, it means Too Much Information. The meltdown is a state I call Advanced Overwhelm.

We are not losing it. Now that we have computers, which, after all, are modeled after our own brains, the analogy is easy. We have just run out of RAM! (Would someone please put out a missing person’s report on my Random Access Memory?) By the time we’ve lived three or four, much less five to seven decades, the part of our brains that retrieves stored data and makes all the programs work is nearly full. We need an upgrade!

At the rate info is flying into our lives, we have to store and retrieve it at speeds we never have known before. We’re still operating like antiquated 286 computer, that relic clunker we plunked on before we even used a mouse and everyone was on the Internet. Our machines run at gigahertz speeds so fast, our brains can barely fire in the same range. Am I the only one who’s a little creeped out by this? Remember “2001, A Space Odyssey” and how HAL, the computer, attempted to sabotage and take over the mission?

We are now bionic. Computers are extensions of our minds. But we have to let our heads catch up with this break-neck evolution. (Is this why my neck hurts so much, so often?) We are being overwhelmed with voice mail, e-mail, faxes—websites, fancy phones that integrate this entire communications smorgasbord—and, yes, blogs, Tweets, Face Bookings and more! Ah, for the good old days when there was lag time. (Remember letters? Days to arrive and no one expected an answer for a week or two.)

Now that everything is instantaneous, we expect each other to do 100 more things, right now, all at once. All those requests and communiqués in your face … all those senders knowing you got it right away. No wonder we’re stressed out. Truth is, most emergencies—unless you happen to work as a 911 dispatcher—are of our own making. We are so impatient. Sometimes I feel like we’ve regressed back to the toddler stage when it comes to social graces. Gimme, gimme—want it now!

A new and improved high-tech species will only evolve out of the latest revolution if we exercise our minds a lot, lower our expectations a little, and remember what happens when a system tries to do more than it’s built for—it crashes. Before we have a collective nervous breakdown, go meditate and/or do something mindless ... and remember well-rounded people who play as hard as they work are the most creative and productive. And when we get those extra moments to rethink things a little, bear in mind that “information is not knowledge,” one of the great catchphrases of the New Millennium.

Last but not least, if you can’t slow down and simplify … if Advanced Overwhelm gets the best of you, take an Info-Seltzer and call in sick in the morning … then turn off the TV, computer, cell phone, handheld, and all the communications gismos and listen to yourself think. You might be amazed at how this low-tech, retro practice can heighten spirits and your put your brain back in gear!

~~~

Photo Credit: BUBBLING MEDICINE, © Wizdaz Dreamstime.com

Cool ‘Phinsights!

Ms. Mascot
Meet Eva, the new poster girl and dolphin mascot for Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights. We met at Dolphin Quest on the Big Island of Hawaii on January 2, 2009. Eva has more than an archetypal feminine name (Adam and Eve, Wall-E and Eva). She is the oldest dolphin of the twelve that make their home at this seaside attraction in the Hilton Resort complex, yet she can jump the highest at 38 years old!

It’s difficult to translate dolphin to human years, but “domesticated” dolphins can live into their forties, which makes our girl no spring chicken. As you can see, she’s quite adorable. We met her whole family, including “husband” Lono and daughter Pookie. Eva, my husband Tim, and I had a great time together, and she splashed lighthearted energy and vitality. Not only is Eva the embodiment of cool later living; she also weighs 300 lbs. and carries it off with complete grace and confidence. You don’t hear her whining about losing 30 lbs. before she’ll allow herself to be seen at the beach. She eats nearly that many pounds of fish a day!

I knew there was a reason why Tim and I drew Eva for our dolphin experience—to inspire my blog followers—and me. She has a Mona Lisa smile and a bubbly laugh. She knows much more than she can tell us, given our language barrier. I just know she’s full of cool ‘phinsights. I’m sure the many she inspired in me were simple reflections of our psychic connection.

Why Do Dolphins Fascinate Us?
Frankly, I never felt compelled to swim with the dolphins; it was Tim’s big dream. Scientists believe dolphins originally lived on land and left for the sea. Even though my experience was in the Pacific, I like this short history of the Atlantic bottlenose dolphin, if you want to learn more.

Tim kept asking of the dolphins’ earth-to-sea exodus, “What do they know that we don’t?” I have heard it said that humans are the sentient beings on land; dolphins are the sentient beings in water. We share a connection in consciousness. For me, this connection translated into a feeling of relatedness, as if Eva and I had always known one another and always would … like we were part of the same extended family and shared genetic material that transcended words or explanations. We just “got” each other.

As our trip approached, I recalled my dear friend Dana’s photos and rave experiences at the very same place with a different dolphin. Soon I had dolphin fever, too. By the time we got to Dolphin Quest (DQ), I was as jazzed as my husband. I figured myself for one of the luckiest people on earth to get the opportunity to meet some of these fellow mammals face to face.

Even so, we both worried about the appropriateness of taking dolphins out of the wild. Tim was concerned about what might happen to them, as they got too old to play with the paying tourists. We were reassured these dolphins are never “put out to pasture” and have a home for life at DQ. I am convinced by our experience that the staff is utterly devoted to them--and by our quizzing our handler and reading the DQ website, that these sweet and brilliant beings have a good life.

Captives’ Audience
Domestication in any form is a tradeoff between freedom and an easier, more protected life for the animals on some levels. There are passionate arguments both for and against it. We make a similar tradeoff when we domesticate dogs and cats, something humans have done for so long, few people think twice about it. The healing aspect of the interspecies bond is one of the pluses researchers don’t need to “prove” to anyone who has ever loved an animal companion. A lovely family with a handicapped daughter got a big, heartwarming dose of dolphin medicine the day we were at DQ. Dolphin Quest on the Big Island is sensitive to special needs. Those of us who needed a little extra help were literally tagged and treated as VIPs.

Looking Up
As usual, it was astrology and the sky that cued me into the principle I was seeing at work--the opposite concepts of wildness and domestication. Wildness, freedom, and revolution are represented by Uranus. Uranus is expansion, whereas Saturn represents contraction, confinement, and responsibility. Youth is Uranus; aging is Saturn. Life is sweet when this pair on the continuum of experience is balanced. There can be a lot of freedom, even within boundaries.

Growing older is scary in spots, especially as we see some of our physical abilities decline and medical conditions creep in. This hit home hard on this trip as Tim used a wheelchair for the first time at places that would have required long walks. We may not always have the complete freedom of “the wild” as we grow older. We may have to live in more contained environments, such as assisted living—with or near relatives. Even an “active 55-plus” community is a choice to limit our immediate neighbors to a group of people based on age and age-related attributes. I struggle whether or not a more homogenous community would be good for me … and if or I how I would handle the need for assistance at some point, if it becomes necessary.

Eva taught me that even within the safety of a more protected environment, happiness and social encounters still can thrive. Sure, she jumps and does tricks for the fish. (When people jump through hoops for their meals, it’s called a job.) Nevertheless, Eva was completely engaged with us, her human playmates.

I don’t doubt for a minute that she also jumps for joy.

Happy Birthday, Hot Flashbacks!

The Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights blog was born on September 17, 2007 at 10:43 pm with my first post, “Boomer's Hot Flashbacks Contain Instructions for a Cool Rest of Her Life.”
I’d like to invite you to our baby’s first birthday party. Our baby. A blog is a community. Ours is just a toddler, but it’s starting to walk!


Conception
I won a five-minute pitch meeting with agent Laurie McLean of Larsen-Pomada Literary Agents in a random drawing at my Sisters in Crime meeting in September 2007. She recommended that I start a blog to begin finding an audience for my work, while I finished my memoir. I took her suggestion and ran with it. I’m still running, but like I said, the baby is just starting to walk.

Birth Chart
Hottie-Cool (HC for short), our baby blog, has an astrology chart, just like the rest of us. She’s a Virgo with a Sag Moon and Gemini Rising. If she were a real person, that’d make her way chatty! With Jupiter conjunct her Moon in Sagittarius, she’d be fond of hyperbole. (Do you think she exaggerates? Her “mom” sure has stories that must sound like it, stranger than fiction.) Oh, and she loves to have fun!

Not to astro-babble too much for those not familiar with the lingo, but I think you’ll appreciate two other points. First, her Moon/Jupiter is on the 7th house cusp of relationships. That tells you the heart of this blog—connection. Second, Neptune is on the Midheaven. This blog’s job, if you will, is consciousness and things like intuition and dreams and creating psychic links. Put it all together and you’ve got us linked in consciousness, communicating about it, and having fun. Just what I had in mind. Hope it works for you!

Milestones
Since it was brand spankin’ new, there have been 39 posts covering many diverse topics besides my memoir (progress reports and excerpts). Some of the other topics include women’s circles, celebrating the seasons, gratitude, patience and faith, pets, intuition, flower essences, loss and love, the four elements, meaningful coincidences and dreams.


The Numbers
Although I’ve only been tracking blog statistics for two months, a profile of Hot/Cool readers and their visiting habits is starting to emerge.

Over the past month, Hot Flashbacks has had 378 page views by 88 distinct visitors. They come from all over: 10 countries and 4 continents with the most visits from the US, UK, and Canada. In the US, most visitors come from my home State of California followed by Pennsylvania, Iowa, and Oregon. The majority of visitors read two or more pages during an average 1-2 minute visit. Sixty-five percent are returning visitors.

Since most readers land on the Home Page, it is the most frequently visited page. However, it has ever-changing content, and visits are not reported by which post is displayed at the time of landing. The home page is followed, in order, by these specific posts: Memoir Evolution, Boomers Hot Flashbacks Contain Instructions for a Cool Rest of Her Life, Edgar Allan Poet and Happy Autumn Equinox, with It’s Done! and Yellow Highlighter tied for 5th place. So if you’ve missed any of these popular destinations, pay a visit to these links to find out why they’re in the Top 5. Check the past post list, too. There may be other topics you’ll be glad you discovered.

Future Outlook
To help this kid go from toddler to walking upright on two legs without teetering, HC needs your support and encouragement. You are the aunties and uncles whose job it is to pitch the cheeks of our little blog now ‘n’ then and say, “My how you’ve grown.” More than that, you’ve got to talk to the little tyke. That means jump in and make more Comments …

… and if you’re too shy to do it in the blogosphere, send me an e-mail, where we can do it in private, one-on-one: hotflashbacks@gmail.com.

I can attest, though, the public thing doesn’t hurt at all-- honest! I blabbed on this blog 39 times, and no one has come after me with a straightjacket, one of those butterfly nets, or called the paddy wagon, as my mom used to say. And if you’re afraid you might make a fool of yourself, take it from one who has been there and transformed it. Read the post Blunders to Blessings.

Thanks
Most of all, this post is a big thank-you for your support during my first year of blogging. It was always my dream to write a column. I would have called it Life in the Vast Lane … but blogging has taken the old concept of the newspaper or magazine column to new heights of unlimited potential. I hope you’ll continue to help me raise HC to be a vibrant source of inspiration, connection, and a place where all readers, especially the baby boomer generation, can keep mentally sharp, spiritually in tune, and physically up for blowing up the old Old.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering what to get the baby blog for her birthday? Referrals. Lots of them. She can never have too many people drop in to say hello or Happy Birthday. Link to your web sites and blogs. Tell your friends!

Edgar Allan Poet

“Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’”
--Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

The title of this post followed me home like a lost puppy. I knew it was a message from my GPS—God Positioning System—telling me I was supposed to go somewhere with this idea fragment.

As the poster girl for Follow Your Inner Guidance, I trusted and allowed myself to get sucked into the adventure. Here is what I’ve pieced together, so far.

Tracking the Mystery
Edgar Allan Poe was indeed a poet, among other things. I never knew he was credited with creating the detective-fiction writing genre, one I dabble in. (I like to say I write M-in-M’s for memoir, inspiration, and mystery.)

Mostly, he wrote a lot of dark, macabre stuff—also a lot about mourning. Not only have I experienced a lot of losses in the last year; I also realized this week how much I miss writing poetry. It was great to reconnect with some poets at a recent writers’ conference and to get reacquainted with my own poems. I wrote many of them in the ‘70s, when a number of them were published in various literary journals. I was into the local poetry scene, enjoyed reading my work at coffee houses, and taught in the Poetry in the Schools program.

I even met my first husband at a poetry reading. He was an angry heckler. When I moved into his building a few months later—a big surprise to us both—he was so nice to me, I didn’t even recognize him as the awful guy from that night. When he copped to it, I thought he had to be kidding. Love is blind.

Back to my visit from the muse bearing the nagging words in my head, “Edgar Allan Poet.” I suspect her point was stop mourning and start celebrating poetry again. How did I get to “nevermore” when it came to poems? I used to be ravenous about the genre. Heaven knows, I can always be reached by wordplay if all else fails or I have accidentally turned off my GPS.

Maybe I’ll start on the road back to poetry by sharing one of my poems from my archives with you. I found a more recent one (only 10 years old instead of 30). It even has a boomer theme. Here goes:

Poem by Joyce Mason

To My Childhood Friend at 50…

Where did the time go …
the bus stop …
old neighborhood …
avoiding Fran in the cafeteria …
dances at the ‘Y’, raging hormones, neuroses… acne?

Adolescence merged maturity,
not so much an off-ramp as an artery,
just another turn in the road,
a road not taken by most of us at heart
(we’re called baby boomers):
Mid-youth
gray hair
menopause.

Did you get your card from AARP?
Did you think you’d see the day?
Yet there is a freedom here:
a time to re-evaluate
to quit worrying over meaningless things
to know that we won’t be
in this bottleneck forever …

… and that, too, is a godsend.

Now, for the dreams not realized:
we still have time to catch up
without killing ourselves.

Before we go:
a book for me,
the starring performance for you …


… but above all, knowing
that if life is measured
by the friends we choose
and love we gain
we’re on the expressway
together
in the car pool lane.


Quote the Maven, Evermore
It’s clear; I still love poetry. Lots of people don’t, but poetry is all around us—songs, jingles, prayers, an especially good comeback. Some precocious pearl that pops from the lips of a child. Poetry all.

I’d love to hear your comments on poetry and things poetic—even if it’s only poetic justice. It doesn’t need rhyme or reason.

Think about this, too. Have you have said “nevermore” to certain passions of the past? Is it time to reconsider?