AARP Alcoholics

Based on a quiz in a recent issue of AARP’s magazine, it seems I might be an alcoholic. This won’t come as a surprise to any readers who take my wine-drinking comments literally. But it certainly surprised me, since in truth I consume at most a bottle of wine every two weeks.

There were five questions on the quiz. If you answered ‘yes’ to any one of them it “could be a sign of an alcohol problem” according to AARP. Jeez Louise. I answered ‘yes’ to three of them. I’m a tad confused, because the same article claims that “moderate amounts” of my beloved wine can improve the health of my heart and brain. By now you’re no doubt wondering what exactly was on that quiz. I’ll tell you.

The first question was: Do you ever underestimate how much you drink? Hell yes, I do. I also underestimate how much I eat, how long it will take to get ready to go somewhere, how much I presently weigh and any number of other aspects of my life. About the only thing I don’t underestimate is how many minutes I’ve been exercising each morning.

The second question was: Do you often take a drink to relax, or calm your nerves? OK. So this one was borderline. I don’t drink to calm my nerves; they’re pretty steely most of the time. I do drink to relax, but I wouldn’t say I do that often. So I’ll give myself a pass on this one. After all, I only need one ‘yes’ to be an AARP alcoholic. I already have that and there are still three more questions to go.

Third question: Do you drink to take your mind off your problems? Duh. Doesn’t everyone? I drink to take my mind off everything. A nice, fuzzy buzz feels good. Besides, similar to my estimating skills, I also eat to take my mind off my problems. And I go shopping to do that. And sometimes I even write to take mind off things, which is counterintuitive, since I really need to focus on things when I’m writing.

Fourth one: Have you ever made rules to manage your drinking? This is the most ridiculous question of all. I make rules about everything. And lists. Just ask my husband. So, of course I’ve ever made rules to manage my drinking. That doesn’t mean I pay any attention to them. Regardless, this is another question in my ‘yes’ column.

The fifth and final question was: If you’re lonely, does drinking make you feel better? This one presents a faulty dilemma for me, because I can’t really say I ever feel lonely. Well, that’s not quite true. Living in a cat-free home after about forty years of having those furry joys in my life can get a bit lonely sometimes. I still cry when I think about them but drinking would only make it worse. So this question gets a resounding ‘no.’

That means I’ve scored an easy hat trick on the quiz, making me a triple AARP alcoholic. I was beginning to wonder what I should do about this. Then I noticed the heading of the column to the right of the “Are You Drinking Too Much?” quiz. It was “Mix A Mocktail” and it promised: “The wagon doesn’t have to be dull.” Exactly what goes into a ‘mocktail?’ you may be wondering? Keep reading.

You combine pitted cherries, fresh mint leaves, way too much sugar, lime juice and lots of cherry-flavored seltzer. That sounds like a recipe for becoming a sugar-holic to me. If it’s a choice between wine and refined sweets, I’ll go to with the vino every time. The only real decision for me would be: “Red or white?”

You Had Me At (Fill In the Blank)

Whoopi Goldberg talked about her reaction whenever she hears the phrase “You had me at ‘hello’.” For those living under a rock, she was referencing the classic Renée Zelwegger line to Tom Cruise in the film Jerry Maguire. I don’t remember exactly what Whoopi said, but I believe it had to do with her wanting to finish the line with something other than ‘hello.’ Or maybe she hated it altogether. In any case…

This got me thinking: What line that begins with “You had me at…” would grab my attention? Thus far, I haven’t come up with a universal word to fill in the blank, one that would stop me in my tracks no matter what the circumstances. I have, however, come up with several that would do it in specific situations.

Certainly in a retail environment “You had me at ‘free’” would do the trick. That doesn’t mean I’d take the free item, but I’d definitely give it a look-see before I went on my way. Many of the other had-me-ats that I came up with are short phrases. Among these are “senior discount,” “includes shipping” and “extra gas points.”

Not surprising given my age, several of my phrases are health-related. Take for instance “low salt,” “covered by Medicare,” “easy to swallow” and lately “gluten free.” (My husband has self-diagnosed that he’s gluten intolerant. Don’t ask.) There are quite a few others in this category, but I’m not going to list all of them. You can probably come up with plenty of your own.

Some popular marketing jargon that could be hot buttons for me, depending on my mood (read: how much wine I’ve had) includes “convenient,” “money back guarantee” and “for a limited time.” In the order in which they’re listed, I’d need an increasing number of glasses of vino to care about those promises. “For a limited time” usually means about as long as it takes me to finish a bottle of chianti. That’s also about how much I’d need to have imbibed to take the bait.

I used to sit up when I heard “quick.” Now that I’m retired, I don’t care a lot about how much time something may take to accomplish. “No mess” and “long lasting,” on the other hand, are still motivational for me. I should mention that the way I define “long lasting” has changed as I've gotten older. It used to mean for at least 20 years. Now I consider 5 years a long time. In contrast, my definition of “no mess” has become more rigorous. If it will take over five minutes to clean up, I’m not interested.

Certain words and phrases are more appealing as I age. Among these are “comfortable” and “easy to use.” Both of these are moving targets, however, meaning that something that is comfortable today might be annoying next week. Likewise, it may be easy to use this week, but frustrating to manage next month. Note to marketers: If this is your go-to pitch, you’d better get me on the hook now. Tomorrow all bets are off.

Then there’s a bunch of slogans that would easily reel me in, but that we don’t often hear. In that group you’ll find “hard to lose,” “impossible to forget,” “24-hour technical support” and “made especially for those with arthritic fingers.” These shouldn’t require an explanation, except that “hard to lose” refers to physical items, not weight.

Some claims that once might have “had me” but no longer cut through my mental clutter are “physician recommended,” “AARP approved,” “one of Oprah’s favorite things” and “as seen on The View.” I no longer trust physicians to endorse anything; they’re in the pockets of big pharma and medical device manufacturers. AARP’s approval is now an advertiser’s bonus. Oprah has moved on (and so have I), and The View post-Joy Behar and Barbara Walters is rarely worth tuning in.

Let’s face it. We get crankier as we get older. I suppose if there were one go-to way to fill in the blank that would have a good chance of getting my attention, it’s probably “You had me at ‘goodbye’.” On that note…

Retirement Transitions - Sneaking Exercise

My first thought when the flier boldly titled "Renew" arrived in the mail was: “AARP has redeemed itself.” The mailing came hot on the heels of the bulletin with the sex video ad and was subtitled: “Easy Ways To Sneak Exercise into Your Day.”

On closer inspection, clarity and disappointment set in. The clarity was that the flier came not from AARP, but from my supplemental health care provider licensed to use their logo. The disappointment was that by the end of paragraph one, I was promised only a way to maintain my weight, not lose any. Since I’m now at my maximum weight ever, the last thing I want to do is maintain it. Searching for that glass half full (and hoping it will contain some red wine,) I read on.

The first tip was: “Bending and lifting keep your body in motion.” Unfortunately, my problem is not so much keeping my body in motion as it is getting it in motion in the first place. Furthermore, they recommended reaching higher as a way to increase calories burned. In my extensive experience, reaching higher is a reliable way for someone under 5 feet 2 inches to pull a muscle, thus making it even harder to overcome inertia for the next few days.

The flier also suggested hefting cans of beans a few times when unloading groceries, using them like hand weights. In our kitchen we use mostly fresh vegetables, but I assume canned soup would do. However, there are three sets of hand weights of varying poundage in the house. If I don’t heft them, it’s not likely I’ll be inspired to heft soup cans, other than to stretch too high to put them into the cupboard. If we’re talking wine bottles, that’s a whole different story. If I pull my back out pumping wine, I can just open a bottle and drink away the pain.

There was also a little trick for when you’re stuck in line at the bank (or the Social Security office.) “Boost your balance by standing on one foot, then the other.” I don’t know about you, but if I saw someone shifting from foot to foot, I’d figure they were desperate for a bathroom. That’s one of the problems that have not yet caught up with me in retirement. I have no desire to make folks think it has, but if it helped me move up in line, I might consider it.

The tips on sneaking exercise ended at the bottom of page one. Page two provided a safety check list. Halfway down it urged me to make sure that frequently used items are stored in cabinets within easy reach. I hate to be picky. Actually, that’s not true. I love being picky. It’s one of my more endearing traits. Just ask my husband.

Anyway, it seems to me that the “put it where it’s convenient” advice flies in the face of “find ways to reach even higher.” Are they deliberately trying to confuse me? Or is this a test to see if I’m paying attention? Maybe the “sneaky” in the headline wasn’t about the exercise after all. Maybe it was about the editor. If so, here’s a message for Sneakypants. “Put it where it’s not at all convenient.”

I should be more charitable. At least they didn’t have mid-afternoon quickies as one of the ways to sneak some exercise into my day. The contradictions probably weren’t intentional. Maybe they hired a cadre of retirees to write the articles and then some lazy, sloppy, not-yet-retired editor plopped them into the flier without taking time to read it as a unified piece.

If that’s the case, I have some advice for Sloppypants about proofing for continuity and clarity. (For those who missed last week’s post, it’s from the headline in the AARP sex video ad.) “It’s never too late to learn something new!”

Come to think of it, maybe pumping wine isn’t such a bad way to sneak some exercise after all. I’ll drink to that.

Retirement Issues - AARP Bulletin Items

This month’s AARP Bulletin came in today’s mail. The feature item on hearing caught my eye: “10 Things To Know About Improving It.” I’ve considered getting my hearing checked, so I decided to educate myself about the process.

It’s not that I’m concerned about my ability to hear others, but I get the sense that I may be speaking louder than necessary. I base this on the looks I sometimes get from those around me. Well, the looks and the fact that people who are all the way across the room often chime in on my conversations.

The article noted that hearing loss is linked to other health issues, in particular dementia and Alzheimer’s, according to a recent study by Johns Hopkins and the National Institute on Aging. (The risk of dementia is five times more for those with severe hearing loss, and double for those with mild loss.) This makes sense. If you don’t hear much of what's going on around you, the voices you’re listening to are probably in your head.

The summary of the six types of hearing aids seemed especially helpful. It provided a brief description of each one, the pros and cons of each, and the costs. I read about all six, and I have some bad news: there is no perfect type of hearing aid. With each one, you’ll have to give up something.

I hope James Dyson takes this on now that he has revolutionized the vacuum cleaner and the hand dryers in public loos. He’ll probably invent a hearing aid that also sucks out your ear wax and irrigates your sinuses.

Now for the really bad news. According to the article, Medicare doesn’t pay for hearing aids, and also not for most hearing tests. I find this shocking. Medicare pays for eye exams. Who decided that seeing is more essential to healthy living than hearing? Is it worse to walk into a lamppost you didn’t see? Or to be hit by a speeding car you didn’t hear coming? And let's not forget the increased risk of dementia.

One of my college classmates has had compromised hearing and sight for much of her adult life. I remember her saying once that if she had to choose between going completely blind or completely deaf, she’d keep her hearing. That surprised me, so I asked why. She said she felt hearing was more essential to social interaction. She was coming from a place of experience, so her words stayed with me.

Determined not to let the AARP Bulletin ruin my weekend, I leafed through the rest of the pages looking for some bright spot. It turned out to be an advertisement with vivid yellow background, a huge clump of Blackeyed Susans, and a couple in a gentle embrace. The woman was wearing a bright orange halter top and matching short orange sarong. You couldn’t get much brighter than this ad.

The headline read: “Sex. It’s Never Too Late To Learn Something New.” (The line is trademarked, by the way, so don’t plan to use it as an icebreaker the next time you’re at a cocktail party.)

If the headline didn’t get my attention, the subheads certainly did. “See for Yourself on Discreet Home Video. Real people demonstrating real sexual techniques! Nothing is left to the imagination!”

I hate to burst their marketing bubble, but I’ve reached the age where I’d rather leave real sexual techniques to the imagination. Their “visual encyclopedia” sounds like way TMI for me.

As I tossed the bulletin into my recycling bin, I felt disappointed by the organization that is supposed to be looking out for me in my newly retired state.  I expected more from AARP. They left me feeling distinctly un-cheery.

A vision flashes through my head. I’m locked in a tender embrace with my husband, and I'm whispering sexual fantasies. From the other side of the wall that separates our new condo from the neighbors comes a male voice. “Hey, Buddy. It’s never too late to learn something new.”

Then I have an even more disturbing thought. Those sex tapes are probably covered by Medicare.

Retirement Issues - Patron Saint of Retirees

Retirees have to face a lot of challenges. It seems only fair that we should have a patron saint to guide us and to look out for our interests. I did some research to see if there might already be a patron saint of retirees, but apparently not. This is surprising, considering that there are saints for everything from button makers (Louis IX) to hemorrhoids (Fiacre) to the Internet (Isidore of Seville.)

Oh sure, there are patrons for many of the ailments from which retirees often suffer. You’ve got Ulric for vertigo, and Vitus for oversleeping (not to be confused with Casanova, for sleeping over.) There’s even Werenfridus for stiff joints; (try saying his name three times fast without spraying spittle onto your companion.) Speaking of stiffs, there’s Stephen the Martyr, patron saint of casket makers, probably a good one for a retiree to stash in a prayer Rolodex. You might also want to have Saint Christopher on speed dial to assure safe driving into your dotage.

Some ailments have more than one saint you can pray to for relief; there’s five of them to listen to the pleas of the hearing impaired, for example, and a wealth of choices (eighteen in all) to receive prayers against impoverishment. But look for just one to handle the concerns of retirees and your search comes up empty. Is this really so much to ask?

There are some saints that respond to prayers for an impressive assortment of seemingly unrelated causes. Take John of God, whose patronage extends from heart ailments to alcoholism, but also covers booksellers, firefighters, and hospital workers. Bonaventure is that rarity among patron saints, a specialist; you’ll want to call on him to untangle bowel disorders.

The closest saint I could come up with for retirees was Anthony of Padua, patron of the elderly. He’s actually best known for locating lost items, a skill that undoubtedly will come in handy as we move into our golden years. But Anthony already has a list of other causes that would be a handful for even the most experienced saint. Shipwrecks, starvation, sterility, animals, sailors, harvests, paupers, and the oppressed, to name just the more noteworthy ones. No, Anthony must be one busy dude already. He’s not likely to have the share of mind available to process the prayers of all the retirees that the baby boom would drop on him.

My husband suggested that FDR would make a great patron saint, because he started Social Security, or alternatively LBJ, because of Medicare—both critical programs in the lives of retirees. I explained to him that in order to be declared a saint, the deceased must be able to take credit for some miracles. While creating Social Security and Medicare may have been miracles in their own right, it doesn’t seem likely that people would be comfortable praying to FDR or LBJ to perform miracles in the afterlife. Instead of a halo, their saintly images would no doubt include a ring of cigar smoke over their head. Not to mention, can we be sure they’re really up there in heaven and not in… well, you know.

I think a good candidate would be Ethyl Percy Andrus, the founder of AARP. Talk about having the interests of retirees front and center. Fittingly, she died in 1967, the year that the current batch of about-to-be-retirees graduated from college. Since holy folks sometimes take new names in their sainthood, I propose we dub her Saint Aarpitus, to commemorate the organization she started. We still have to deal with that pesky question of post-death miracles. If any of you have something related to retirement that you feel like praying about, by all means, direct your pleas to Ethyl. If things turn out well for you, let me know, but be sure to have notarized witness statements available for review.

I hate to sound pessimistic—it’s not my normal nature, but I think we should have a back up plan on this. So, until Aarpitus is canonized, I’m going to direct my retirement-related prayers to Saint Jude. I had a bulk rate plan with him during my college years; he’s the patron saint of lost causes. When it comes to most things related to retirement, you can’t get more appropriate than that.

Retirement Transitions—Donut Holes and Paper Trails

Yesterday I had my semi-annual checkup. It was the first time I used my new insurance (other than for prescriptions.) I presented my Medicare card, but could not find the one for my supplemental coverage. I rooted through a rubber-banded stack of cards an inch thick. Bank card, AAA, two AARP, countless membership and contact cards, a variety of appointment paperwork as far ahead as next summer. But no United Health card.

I stood there feeling half-naked, as though I had been caught without my “Friday” panties. (See posting from September 7 for explanation on that.) By dumb luck, I had next month’s bill in my purse, so they took my information from that.

Last night I scoured my purse for the missing card. It was there all along. That second AARP card I mentioned? A supplemental coverage card branded with their logo. The provider’s name, United Health, was buried in the mice type.

This experience added fuel to a fire that was sparked by some insurance paperwork that came last week. Since I have now completed my first month on Medicare, I received a report of my prescription drug claims for September. As I read closely, I realized I was holding the first accounting of my march toward the infamous donut hole.

You’ve probably heard of the donut hole. It’s that gap in coverage in a range of prescription drug payments. Coverage stops from $2,830 to $4,550 and then picks up again. I’m on several prescription medications, but if I’m ever taking so many drugs that I pass $2,800 a year in claims, I’ve been scarfing far too many donuts. Still, attention must be paid.

The report I received caused a bulb to light up. Not only do I now have multiple health insurance cards, I’ll have to set up a complicated system to track my medical expenses. I’ll need to record date of service, doctor’s name, amount billed, date and amount paid by Medicare, ditto for supplemental coverage and for payments I make. I haven’t met my deductible, so I’ll need to track that, too.

I am suddenly reminded of the later years of my mother’s life. My sister would come from Vermont and spend a week with our mother in New Jersey every summer. One of Barb’s tasks was to sort through all of Mom’s medical expenses and payments so she could file any errant claims. There were few personal computers back then, so everything was posted to green ledger paper using a system our father had set up years earlier.

Since I lived closer, I took our mother to doctors’ appointments, on special shopping trips and out to dinner occasionally. The medical paperwork was Barb’s contribution to Mom’s care. I remember thinking even back then that I had the better end of the deal. Now I feel that I owe my sister big time.

Back to my present day paperwork. I was finally feeling somewhat in control again when a hefty packet arrived in the mail. Turns out we’re about to enter the much-hyped “open enrollment period,” that once-a-year window when we can change our health care coverage without penalty.

Be still my heart. I spent much of August figuring out what coverage I wanted. Do you really think that just two months later I’m going to change my mind? (No comments, please.) I suppose I should at least open the envelope and skim the contents. What if there’s something I need to do even if I don’t want to change plans?

My lack of knowledge embarrasses me. With my self-confidence waning, I’m compelled to check my panties to make sure I’m wearing the right day. I discover they’re inside out, so I can’t tell. At least they’re clean and free of holes. My mother would be proud.