Shortages To Cry Over

Reports of a shortage of chocolate have me considering hoarding this treasure for when I stop dieting. It’s not like chocolate has a “sell by” date. It doesn’t go bad if it’s been hidden in the closet behind your holiday serving dishes for months. I base this on years of experience. So far, I’ve resisted the urge to stock up. I’m reluctant to use the step stool (see previous post) and I don’t trust my willpower if I have chocolate within easy reach.

Still, it’s depressing to think about something you enjoy or depend on being in short supply or being discontinued. In my early days working at Colgate Palmolive, they were phasing out their product and my shampoo of choice, Lustre Creme. I lamented this to someone in production and he told me to use Octagon dish liquid. He said it had the same formula except for the fragrance. Eeeew! (BTW, Lustre Creme is available online. Someone must have bought the rights.)

Sadly, these product absences happen more and more often for retirees. Products we loved since our youth are continually reaching the end of their lifecycles before we reach the end of ours. I’ve started keeping a list of shortages I’d cry over and I add to it as I go about my daily activities. Turns out there are lots of things I’d miss.

One item I rely on in the food pantry is raw almonds, especially when I’m dieting. Four of them have just 24 calories, so they make a great snack; plus they’re healthy. Ditto for baby dill pickles. The label for the store brand at the IGA on the East Side of Providence says 0 calories per pickle. I think it could be 5, but either way, it’s a good snacking choice. I buy a jar every time my husband and I go back to Rhode Island. I’ve tried other brands, but they’re not as good.

I’d also be sad if grocery chains dropped Teddie unsalted old fashioned peanut butter. I stock up on it whenever there’s a sale. It has the perfect consistency to spread on gluten-free Mary’s Gone Crackers without breaking them.

Moving into personal care items, I’d be lost without ordinary pop-up tissues. I’ll use almost any brand, but what would get my nose out of joint is if I couldn’t find the plain variety. Manufacturers seem to be pushing the ones with aloe and lotions, and I can’t abide those.

A shortage of Clairol hair dye #28 would be devastating. It’s the color they put in their Natural Instincts Nutmeg. My niece, Pam, steered me to this as the perfect product to color my gray naturally. She was so right, and I’ve been using it ever since I gave in to disguising my aging tresses. I don’t want to contemplate what it would be like to have to find a replacement. Hit or miss probably wouldn’t come close to describing the process.

I also depend on waxed dental floss to help pull out the food residue that gets hung up between my teeth after almost every meal. I have a lot of old caps that have rough edges. There’s not much I can eat without something being left behind. Even the waxed floss can get caught, but the unwaxed simply shreds in place. If anyone gets an inkling that the waxed version is on its way out, let me know. I’ll lade in a lifetime supply and store it in our basement.

If they ran out of the extra-absorbent filler that’s used in those wee-wee pads it would not be a good thing. I put them on the bottom of Luke’s litter box under the newspaper and they hold a lot of cat pee. Fingers crossed that this product stays around at least as long as Luke does. Also that this means for at least a few more years; he’s 17 ½ now.

One product for which there could be a shortage is AA batteries. My primary use for these is the wireless mouse and keyboard for my desktop Mac. Battery drain is one of its few shortcomings. As Macs become more and more popular, the demand for AAs will increase. One hopes that will lead Apple to improve their battery life. I could switch to rechargeable ones, but I’d need to keep a few sets on hand so I could continue working while they were recharging. It’s so much easier to just pop in the cheaper ones that come in multi-packs.

That’s my starter list, but I’ve just scratched the surface. For now, I’ll practice dealing with a shortage of chocolate. That should help me adapt to whatever other shortages come my way. Please, Lord, let it not be Clairol’s dye # 28.

The Pitfalls of Shrinking

My post on the benefits of being short hit a hot button, generating several comments from female readers. One of my favorites came from Linda, my across-the-street neighbor during the summers of our youth. She, too, is losing height at her annual checkups. To use her own words: “Help me! I’m melting!” I’ve decided to follow up “The Benefits of Being Short” with “The Pitfalls of Shrinking.” I hope this provides helpful ideas for the Lindas out there.

One of the most noticeable pitfalls of height reduction is that you need to get your pants shortened every year. I wouldn’t care if that were because I lost more weight and the pants hung down further on my hips. (As if.) But having to spend on a tailor because you’re losing altitude is not on most retirees’ bucket lists.

Fortunately, I have a solution that enables you to pay just once for those alterations and be able to keep up with your ongoing shrinkage at no additional cost. Instead of a permanent hem, have your tailor install vertical strips of Velcro tape all around the edges. You’ll need them spaced every three inches so you don’t get droopy bottoms. (There’s nothing worse…) Then each year, as you “melt” a bit more, simply adjust the tapes accordingly.

I’ll bet my fellow height-loss sufferers have noticed that they can no longer reach the grab bar to get into an SUV. I had trouble grabbing those handles even before I started losing height. If you’ve always been short, chances are you would never have owned one of these even before you began shrinking. The problem is that these vehicles are the transportation of choice for many of our friends, not to mention our offspring.

It has probably taken you years to cultivate those friends. If you’re close to my age, you may be losing them through attrition. The circle of life, southern migration and such. No need to hurry the process by cutting the cord on someone because of the car they drive. It’s also unlikely you’ll want to disown your offspring. That leaves us looking for a convenient mechanism to boost us to grab bar level.

The best I have to offer is pairs of heavy duty springs, the kind you find in mattresses. Attach them to straps that have (what else?) Velcro fasteners. Carry them in a tote bag. When you need to get into a vehicle that’s too far off the ground, put them on the soles of your shoes like old-fashioned roller skates.

One downside of vertical contraction that I hadn’t considered came to my attention on the Today Show. Pint-sized actress Kristin Chenoweth (4’ 11”) appeared in one of the segments. She tried to high-five towering host Savannah Guthrie (5’ 10”). The best she could manage was grazing the bottom of Savannah’s palm with her own fingertips. If you have this problem as you shrink, get one of those giant foam fingers that you see in stadium stands all the time. You’ll be able to high-five (or high-one) anybody with that.

Another problem that appears on the radar as we lose height is that we need to use a step stool more often. That’s bad enough in and of itself—so annoying to keep dragging it in and out of the storage closet—but it’s also dangerous. Our increasing age usually brings with it deteriorating eyesight and poorer balance. Combine those with reaching ever more skyward atop a step stool that you’ve jerry-rigged, and you have a recipe for broken bones. (Did I mention that osteoporosis is a key cause of shrinkage?)

Eventually this step stool problem leads to the need to reorganize your kitchen cabinets and your bedroom closet shelves. One route to take on this is to get an entire system installed. You might even pay a consultant to help figure out what needs to be kept on the lower shelves and what can go in vertigo land. The problem with this, other than the cost, is that you’ll need to revisit the organizational structure each year that your reach diminishes by a shelf.

I recommend that you use the need to reorganize as the impetus to jettison more of the clutter from your life. Many of my earlier blog posts provide suggestions on how to do that. It’s a lot cheaper than fancy systems. It also has the added benefit of making your next move easier. You may think that’s a long way off, but you’ll thank me whenever it happens.

http://retirementsparks.blogspot.com/2010/09/retirement-downsizingthinning-out.html

http://retirementsparks.blogspot.com/2010/10/retirement-planning-clearing-kitchen.html

http://retirementsparks.blogspot.com/2010/10/retirement-planning-more-on-thinning.html

In the meantime, you can thank me now for all my other helpful suggestions. One thing I’m never short on is ideas.

The Benefits of Being Short

I’m short. I’ve always been short. I’ve danced around this topic in my blog over time. It’s been percolating recently because I have a midyear checkup next week. It will be with a new GP near our condo in Connecticut. I had all my medical records copied and sent to me (cost $94.92) so I can bring them to my appointment. My height has been decreasing at each of my checkups, which has led me to consider the benefits of being short. And yes there are some. Perhaps not more than there are disadvantages, but here goes.

Let’s consider osteoporosis, which I had, but managed to hold at bay after taking Fosamax for a few years. I’m due for another bone density test next year, and it will no doubt show that I’m once again losing density. Since I’m short, there can’t be that much room between my discs for them to collapse a lot. I think osteoporosis would be a bigger problem for someone tall. Their spine would have lots of room for shrinkage. So, here’s your first benefit of being short: you have fewer inches to lose as you age.

Another issue of aging is loss of balance. This is less of a concern for someone as short as I am. I’m so close to the ground that I don’t have far to fall if I take a tumble, hence less chance of breaking something when I land. The way things are going with my height, I could be walking on all fours in another decade or so. I won’t be at risk of tumbling or falling. I’ll simply go splat.

The older I get, the more off-balance I become. I’m talking physical balance not mental, so don’t be so quick to say you’ve noticed. I’m clumsy to begin with, and my wobbling causes me to drop things even more than usual. Because I’m short, I don’t have to bend over too far to pick up things I’ve lost hold of. Score another one for the little people.

When I was in high school, there was an annual event called “Girls’ Sports Night.” We had a team for each of the school colors and each team elected Senior and Junior captains to head up the effort for their color. My junior year, the White team senior captain (my team) was petite. The Scarlet captain was stately. My Latin teacher commented on this in class one day, saying that a tall girl would always look like a woman, while a short girl would always look like a little girl trying to look like a woman.

If you’re thinking this was an odd point of view to be put forth in a Latin class, you’d be right. My teacher did it in an attempt to cow me. To describe me as a difficult student would be an understatement, at least as far as Mr. Ryan was concerned. I countered with the somewhat predictable: “Dynamite comes in small packages.” But his observation came back to me last week as I was gussying myself up to go to an event at our clubhouse. I’m always a tad surprised at how young I look when I put on makeup.

Upon reflection, I think that one reason people think I’m considerably younger than I am is that I’m short. Well, that and the fact that I dye the gray in my hair. I can’t really explain why, but if you put two women together who look virtually identical, but one is short and one is tall, people will probably guess the shorter one to be younger. Maybe my Latin teacher wasn’t just snarky. Maybe he was also right.

In my mind, one of the best benefits of a petite stature is that most people won’t even notice if you’re getting shorter. This is not the case for taller women. When they start to shrink, people chatting with them will be thinking: “Hmm. I used to look down at her mouth when we talked. Now I’m looking down at her nose. She must be getting shorter.” When people talk to me, they’ll be thinking: “I used to look down at the top of her head. Now I’m looking down at… Oh. The top of her head.” I rest my case.

Loss of Padding

My husband left for India on Tuesday. He’ll be gone about three weeks. This presents a welcome opportunity for me to attack a major project. Since I’d like to get my next edition of Retirement Sparks to print before yearend, I can use this window of uninterrupted time to assemble the book for publication. I had started on this last spring but had to shift gears to prep the house for sale once again.

After three days of sitting at my computer for hours at a time this week, I had one of those Aha! (Oh, no!) moments. My fanny was killing me. My lower back wasn’t exactly thrilled with me either, but the pain in my butt was something new. Those who have never met me in person, especially before I lost 30 pounds last year, might not see this as an Aha! moment. So, here’s some back(side) story.

I’ve always had a lot of “junk in the trunk.” My sister, my brother and I all inherited my father’s behind. (Our mother’s rear end was as flat as a pancake.) Because I fenced in high school, my gluteus maximus was especially well-developed. And it didn’t bounce around. It stayed that way even after college, probably because I walked briskly and a lot when I worked in Manhattan. And usually in high heels. (Lots of muscle flexing…)

I considered my derrière an asset, since men seemed to like big butts, even before Sir Mix-a-Lot came out with his song, Baby Got Back. (“I like big butts and I cannot lie…”) By the way, if you haven’t seen Jimmy Fallon’s remix of Brian Williams rapping to that song, you must check it out on YouTube.

Returning to this week’s painful realization: my bottom has lost much of its cushioning capability. Though some of this is probably due to my weight loss, it’s more likely another sad side effect of growing old. I say this because I had already noticed that the balls of my feet were no longer doing a good job of making walking comfortable either. Simply put: my body is losing padding.

No one tells you to expect this. Fallen arches, yes. But you don’t hear folks saying: “You’ll feel like you’re walking on concrete unless you wear special shoes.” And you certainly don’t have folks warning you that at some point, you’re going to think you’re sitting directly on your ass bone. (Is there an ass bone? I know it wouldn’t be the tailbone. That’s in the middle, at the base of the spine.) Moving on…

I suppose I wouldn’t be as miffed at this loss of padding in useful places if it weren’t that I’ve been gaining it in places I don’t need it. Or want it. Take for instance my belly. No, really. Please take the extra padding I have there. (Thank you, Rodney Dangerfield.) Despite the collateral tummy tuck that came along with one of my cancer surgeries, I was left with plenty of space for fat cells to proliferate. And proliferate they did.

Scientists should research a method of shifting belly fat to the fanny area. That ought to be pretty easy. They already do liposuction after all. Just reposition the stuffing laterally about 180 degrees. If someone can figure out a way to do that, they’ll make a fortune. People our age won’t even care if it leaves some scars.

Of course, there’s also the extra cushioning on our upper arms. Actually, I’m not sure it’s accurate to call it cushioning if it dangles. Whatever. It’s padding I don’t need, don’t want, and can’t seem to get rid of. If those same scientists can take that upper arm flab and reposition it to the bottoms of our feet, they’ll have something irresistible to peddle in the AARP publications.

Did I mention my neck wattle yet? Maybe not in today’s post, but you’ve certainly read plenty about it during the years that I’ve been blogging. There’s not enough excess there to help with my feet, but I’d still like to get rid of it. Just sayin’.

Seriously, how many of you had given any thought to this problem as part of your adjustment to retirement? I’m warning you: put this on your radar now. Start looking for extra-thick gel inserts for your shoes and a Kardashian butt enhancer today. I cannot lie. You’ll thank me later.

Manipulating Those On-line Ads

Now that I’m retired, I’m on my computer and on the Internet more than ever. I’m increasingly aware of the ads that appear in the sidebars of browser windows and in some emails. I’ve also noticed how the content of these ads changes over time.

In the beginning, we were all getting offers for Viagra, or ones asking if we’d like to enlarge our penis to improve our sex life. These were dumb on so many counts, the most enormous being that more than half of the people seeing them don’t have penises. What a colossal waste of advertising money! Over time, the software companies refined their placement algorithms (or whatever tool they use) so that those promotions appear mostly for viewers who have an interest in augmenting their equipment.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that the things I surfed about in researching my blog topics started showing up in my sidebars and in the banners at the top of the window. They kept appearing for weeks after I’d looked them up, even though I no longer had any interest in them. What’s worse, my initial inquiries were solely for the purpose of the post at hand. I never had any personal plans to wear or buy bow ties, for instance. I just researched all the various styles for a blog entry about their renaissance.

When we moved into our condominium, I purchased a MacBook Air, so I’m on my laptop much of the time. My husband purchased an HP laptop, which turned out to be a lemon. He returned it and decided to rethink what type of device made sense for him. In the meantime, I let him use my desktop computer. He’s been spending hours each day searching the Internet for products for his store.

About a week ago, Jagdish replaced his defective laptop, so I’m now on my desktop Mac again much of the time. I can tell which product categories he’s been researching by looking at the ads I’m getting. While these are a step above Viagra, they’re still for products in which I have no interest. I should probably consider wearing a Fitbit activity band, so I know how lazy I am in my new cocoon. But the ads aren’t going to make me buy one, much less become more active.

Likewise, I’m not excited about singing bowls, essential oils and gemstones with “special properties.” I must admit, those ads are a step up from the ones for basement storage shelves. They've taken over my laptop ever since I looked up those offerings at Home Depot. But none of these are of interest to me. It dawned on me that they’re not even visually attractive.

I decided that I needed to take control of my browser and email screens. I made a list of things that I would enjoy looking at in those sidebars and banners. Things that were graphically exciting or that made me feel all warm and fuzzy. Items like freshwater lakes and paisley prints and perennial flowers of New England. And of course, cats. Then I Googled them. Every time I found a website with photos I liked, I bookmarked the page.

Now I’m fine-tuning the process. For example, PaisleyPrintBoutique.com seemed like it would have gorgeous photos, but their homepage is loaded with earrings. Hence, no bookmark. The blog ThreadsofHistory probably won’t help with my browser ads, but I bookmarked that one anyway. “Musings and tidbits on textile design and creation, from prehistory to the modern day” is SO in my wheelhouse. The author stopped posting in 2010, but there are dozens of entries for me to read when we’re snowed in this winter.

Another site mentioned textile print blocks, so I searched on that and turned up some interesting graphics on woodprintblocks.com worth bookmarking. This in turn led to block printing, but that was a visual dead end. By now, I’m sure you get the idea.

For the process to work effectively, I need to visit each of the sites I’ve marked just before I shut down my browser each day. That flags those sites as most recent and also as frequently visited, which moves them up in the ad hierarchy. It also puts a smile on my face as I log off. I’m still figuring out how many of my selected sites I need in order to shut out the ads I don’t want to see. This plan is, after all, a work in progress.

But that’s one of the great things about being retired. At this stage of my life, just about everything is a work in progress. Especially me.