Retirement Issues — Bio IDs for Retirees

India is implementing the first-ever universal biometric ID program, which will assign a Unique Identification Number (UID) to each resident as a national proof of identity. The UID links three pieces of biometric data: a photo of the face, iris scans and fingerprints. The program aims to help the poor gain access to benefits and subsidies. India presently has dozens of ID types, virtually none of which can be used country-wide and most of which are not available to the poor.

Similar ID trial balloons have been floated in Britain and the US over the past decade. Not surprisingly, UID plans have many critics who think Big Brother is already watching us too closely. With a little thoughtful tweaking, we seniors can make a UID work to secure our access to benefits as we age. Forget fingerprints and iris scans. We have more appropriate ways to uniquely identify us using biometrics, ways that will not put us at risk of government meddling.

I’m using as my guide Wikipedia’s definition: Biometric identifiers are the distinctive, measurable characteristics used to identify individuals. And further: The two categories of biometric identifiers include physiological and behavioral characteristics. You just know there’s a treasure trove of possibilities in this. Here are some of my suggestions.

Chemical Breath Analysis

Odors (or odours, if you’re a Brit) are an acknowledged biometric. Per the site griaulebiometrics.com: “…each organism produces a given odour that is characteristic to that organism.” I’d never suggest using body odor as a UID, but let’s face it, older folks have some of the most distinctive breath aromas on the planet. A CIA agent would have to be really perverse to probe that data out of idle curiosity.

Plaster Casts

Equally curiosity-proof is a plaster cast of your bunion. Though I’ve not conducted a scientific study, I’m quite certain that every bunion is unique. What’s that? You don’t have bunions? Then use the profile of your fallen arch when it’s placed on a special foot pad. What again? Your arches haven’t fallen and you have no bunion? Liar, liar, pants on fire. Unless you've spent your life barefoot on the beach, you can’t have reached seniordom without at least a hint of one or the other of these problems. However, moving on...

Spot Patterns

The patterns made by our liver (or old age) spots provide yet another biometric for a UID. The ones on your face or on your hands provide the most discrimination. If you opt for this biometric, you should overlay the behavioral (or behavioural) test of what you think the patterns represent. It’s a sort of Rorschach for seniors. When the ID is set up, you input your interpretation into the database. Anyone with a similar spot pattern will need to perceive it in your same quirky way in order to coopt your ID.

The Art of Earwax

Those with excess earwax have an additional option, that being a Pantone match to the color (or colour) of your wax. Important! Be sure to use the Pantone code for coated stock, not uncoated. Those who have used this color tool know that you get not-so-subtle variations in shades depending on the paper you print on. Likewise for your wax match. The earwax biometric has an added benefit of improving your hearing each time you are screened for a UID match.

The Lettuce Test

This ID measures how long you take to chew a three by five inch lettuce leaf. It’s predicated on the fact that many seniors have dentures, caps or other paraphernalia that render chewing food such as lettuce a challenge. Be sure to indicate which type of lettuce was used for your standard. If you’re timed using iceberg when your ID is set up, but they test you on Bibb or romaine, you’ll never pass as yourself.

Meandering Ratio

The final metric is complicated and therefore unique. You walk from point A to point B, ten feet away. A computer records you and calculates as follows: Ten divided by how many steps you take times your sway (inches from leftmost point to rightmost). This number is divided by your height in inches times your weight in pounds, and that is divided by the circumference of your right thigh. The result is your meandering ratio.

There you have it. Six alternatives to fingerprints and iris scans for a senior-friendly biometric ID system. The more we combine these together, the more secure our identity from pretenders. And the less likely some nosy government functionary will go out of his way to track our every move. Isn’t technology great?

Retirement Reflections — Mentoring Month

January is National Mentoring Month and The View devoted a show to this topic. I was struck by the variety of opinions on what a mentor is (or does). To me, a mentor was a regular presence in one’s life over an extended period. Others defined it as someone who was a singular influence or impetus to achieve, even though the mentor may not have known it. For all, mentors were inspirational, empowering.

Joy Behar credited Gloria Steinem with giving her the courage to pursue stand-up comedy, a tough field for women back in the seventies. Steinem was unaware that her words exhorting women to be their own person and have confidence in their abilities had been such an influence on Behar.

The other co-hosts had more traditional mentors, but the clips of celebrities showed them thanking everyone from wives who pushed them to succeed to agents who stood by them early in their careers. I've decided there are several types of mentoring.

The most familiar I will call formative. A formative mentor helps set you on a path to achieve greatness, or at least to achieve your goals, no matter how modest. To do this, a formative mentor devotes a considerable amount of time and energy to molding you. He remains a presence in your life over many years.

Similar, but generally for shorter periods, are transitional mentors. They help guide you through challenging life passages—high school, college, attempts to stop smoking or to get out of a bad relationship, for example. Over time, a transitional mentor may evolve into a formative one.

Next are the exemplars. Some people call them idols or heroes. By whatever name, they serve as examples of how to lead your life, how to achieve your goals. An exemplar may not know how many people she’s mentored, but she is very likely aware that she’s setting an example. We all can—and should—be exemplars.

Finally, there is the reflective mentor. By that I mean we may not realize the person served as a mentor at the time it’s happening. Upon reflection, often years or decades later, you recognize their influence on your life. They’re very likely unaware of the impact they’ve had on you.

As I look back, I can’t say I ever had a traditional, or formative, mentor. I have long-time friends who’ve always encouraged me and I’m grateful for them. But I never had one person there over the years for me to go to for advice. No one who propped me up, pointed me in the right direction and gave me a gentle push when I might have needed it. Mostly I found my way by trial and error, by stumbling into things that made sense, that worked. Or seemed to at the time.

I’ve been a “closet” writer for decades. When I worked at a large corporation in Manhattan, I regaled my co-workers with bogus intra-office memos. Toward the end of my 17-year career there, I collected them into a book, added material and gave it a working title of “A Neophyte’s Guide to Corporate Survival.”

The father of one of my peers was with Random House, and she offered to have him critique my manuscript. His comments were constructive. The product in its current form was neither fish nor foul. If it was intended to be helpful, it needed more meat. If meant to be funny (which it was), it needed to be edgier. The net of his advice was to be outrageous if I wanted to be a published humorist.

I took this to heart. When I was “downsized” a few years later, I wrote an opinion column itemizing what I saved by no longer commuting. My “fuzzy math” concluded that I was making money by not working. The piece was published in the Sunday New York Times. I was paid $75 and I was over the moon.

A year later, the Times published my second, even more outrageous column, on the garbage crisis. A few years after that, Marketing News ran two of my crazier pieces. Then followed close to two decades with little time to write.

One of the reasons I retired was to provide that time. I keep the advice of that Random House executive in mind, pushing my humor to the edge of reasonableness. Occasionally I write more serious, wistful pieces, like today’s post. But what I consider my signature style is my humor. I think it’s time to contact my former colleague and ask her to pass on my thanks to her father. And maybe even to become a mentor myself.

In recognition of National Mentoring Month, thank a mentor and become a mentor. Retirement is a great time to start!

Retirement Variations — Tebowing for Retirees

Coverage of Tim Tebow praying on bended knee, after scoring a touchdown or completing a “Hail Mary” pass, has been inescapable. For those scarce few who are unfamiliar with “Tebowing,” his position is a cross between Rodin’s “The Thinker” and Friberg’s Washington praying in the snow at Valley Forge.

Now that the Denver Broncos have been knocked out of the AFC playoffs, Tebow and his pose are disappearing from the media. I’m here to help those suffering from Tebow withdrawal. Retirees have several poses that we strike almost daily that are worthy of as much media attention as “Tebowing.” Perhaps more.

First and most important is “Elbowing.” This is the pose we strike when we’re in a crowded area and we can tell that the younger folk around expect to steamroller past us. You can almost see the thought balloon over their heads: “Retiree. Unstable on her feet. Not much energy left. I can just push by her and get ahead in line.” As if.

This is when we strike one of our most effective poses. Elbows sharply bent, hands in fists, positioned at chest height for maximum angularity. We look like we’re about to do the chicken dance, which disarms the young’uns, so they’re off guard for what’s coming. This is not the same position as akimbo (hands on hips). Try them both and you’ll see how much more effective elbowing will be for crowd control. And retribution.

The second retiree pose is the aptly-named “Get Going.” This is the one we fall into as we get out of bed. When we place our feet on the floor, we’re bent over slightly (or more than slightly) at the waist. As we stand up (or try to), the waist bend remains for several minutes, until we overcome our inertia and finally get going. Stiff, arthritic knees make it even harder to get going, so there’s a motion component as well. Or more precisely, a lack-of-motion component.

One of the more subtle poses favored by retirees is the “Tilt and Cup,” wherein the head is held sideways and tilted back slightly, with hand cupped at the back of the ear. This pushes the ear forward, so sounds bounce off the inside of the hand into the ear canal. This pose is seen most often in crowds of retirees, when people are all talking at once and the decibel level is high. A group “Tilt and Cup” can look like a flash mob to those who aren’t close to retirement, making them think we’re cool.

Some folks mistake the “What For” for the ”Tilt and Cup,” but it’s a distinct retiree stance. We use it when we head from one room to another for a purpose that we've lost sight of by the time we get there. We stop, tilt our head, and rub our chin thoughtfully, as though it’s a magic lamp that can summon the Memory Genie.

Occasionally, we try to summon the genie by rubbing one of our temples. From behind, it can appear that we’re rubbing our ear, which is probably how the confusion with the “Tilt and Cup” came about. If the “What For” pose is struck before we reach our destination, it’s referred to as the “Where To.” If you’re already retired, you know why.

The “Teeter-Totter” is not as much a pose as a method of locomotion. You’ll recognize it by the almost-imperceptible shifting from foot to foot, with virtually no forward progress. As we transition into retirement, we somehow get the idea that moving side to side is a better way to get from here to there than moving directly forward. No one seems able to explain this, but we see it all the time.

The “Teeter-Totter” is often paired with the “Chair Crane,” which is an actual pose, though barely. Since forward t-t motion is awkward, the person teetering often grabs hold of the arm or back of a nearby chair with one hand. This is intended to prevent tottering into something or someone en route. The t-t-er then lifts the opposite foot as he takes the “Chair Crane” stance ever so briefly, but often multiple times, as he progresses from point A to point B.

Finally, I present the  quintessential retiree pose—the “LayZbo.” Here’s how it works. Plop yourself into a recliner. Tilt the chair back and clasp your hands behind your head. Put your feet up on the footrest or matching hassock. You’re now doing the “LayZbo,” one of the great joys of retirement.

Tim Tebow, eat your heart out.

Retirement Wish List — Discussion Shows for Retirees

Some of the most popular TV fare are discussion shows with panels of regulars. The quintessential example and my favorite is ABC’s The View. For those living in a man cave—oops! my bad (banned phrase in 2012)—under a rock, The View has five female co-hosts of varying demographics, backgrounds and, appropriately, points of View.

CBS developed a competing but less successful show, The Talk. They must have thought their title would deliver women who meant to tune in The View but got confused. As if. Meanwhile, ABC, pumped by its continued good ratings and CBS’s less than stellar entry, concluded they are simply better at this format. They expanded from women’s issues into The Chew, about—you guessed it—food.

Notice that discussion shows all have four letter titles. That includes The Five, Fox’s replacement for Glenn Beck when he bailed on them. The Five, with a rotating panel of—you guessed it again, five—Fox personalities, was created as a stop-gap. When it was still gapping nicely without stop after three months, it became permanent.

As I mulled this over, I decided there’s an opportunity for discussion shows for retirees. The network that hops on this should develop one version for women and another for men, for two key reasons. First, with all the flirting and fawning, there’d be too much sexual tension in a co-ed group. You couldn’t have serious conversations. Second, the ideal panel size seems to be five. So a co-ed panel would have an uneven number of members of each sex—never a good idea. (Remember Spin the Bottle?)

I have suggestions for the composition of these panels to get the same level of head-butting (or butt-heading?) as on The View. I’ve worked hard to get a range of ages and points of view and to provide diversity. It wasn’t easy. Just try to find an older conservative female celebrity. Or an older black one, for that matter; most of those even close to retirement are already on a discussion show.

For the women’s panel, Betty White is a must. She’s hot (in Cleveland) now, is opinionated and funny, and has demonstrated her chops in female-group programming. Another good choice is Jane Fonda, who has just put out exercise DVD’s for seniors. She’s also opinionated, though not funny, but we’ve got that covered with Betty. Jane should come cheap; she’ll want to push her DVD’s at least until her leotard wears out. (She still has that striped one from her original workout video.)

I’d also include The Brady Bunch mom, Florence Henderson; her RLTV cable show is obscure enough to be a non-issue. Wikipedia claims she supports a Catholic charity and, out of respect, refused to dress in a nun's habit for a comedy skit. That makes her quasi-conservative compared to other celebrities, even if she did get crabs from NYC Mayor John Lindsay when she had an adulterous affair with him in the sixties.

Faye Wattleton would be a great panel member. She’s known for speaking out on controversial topics, plus she provides that sought after diversity. Candice Bergen rounds out my choices. She’s one of the contributors to the women’s website WowOWow.com. Her pregnant-out-of-wedlock Murphy Brown character could debate Planned Grandparenthood with Faye. Can't wait.

Moving on to the candidates for the men’s show, we have lots of choices, several of whom have had talk shows of their own. We think they can be lured into joining our discussion group, now that they are in or are approaching their own retirement.

Two obvious ones that will add excitement, controversy and color are Jerry Springer and Larry King. For color of a different sort, we’ll pull in Bill Cosby. Less obvious, but faces that are familiar on the late night circuit, are Terry Bradshaw and Ben Stein. Bradshaw is borderline manic and Stein can be depressive. Talk about stirring the pot. Stein has the added advantage of offering a conservative voice.

Once a month, we’ll bring the two panels together on a current hot topic that is highly polarizing. That should really liven up the discussions. Betty White going at it with Larry King over clip-on vs. button-on suspenders! Florence Henderson taking on fellow Dancing with the Stars alum Jerry Springer on whether the rumba can be adapted for pole dancing! Talk about sexual tension…

The only thing left to do is come up with a four-letter name for these suckers. The Perk is a possibility, but isn't it too Central to the Friends TV show? Perhaps The Brew; that can have several meanings. We’ll tell the men it’s short for Brewski.

Oh, yes. These shows are destined for critical acclaim. I think I’ve found my next career: TV programming. Sta-a-ay tuned!

Retirement Guidelines — Words Banned in 2012

Lake Superior University in Michigan just issued its annual list of banned words. Words and phrases that qualify are overused, misused, useless or otherwise annoying—ones that make us grind our teeth so hard that the fillings vibrate.

This year’s dirty dozen includes such gems as “baby bump,” “the new normal,” “amazing,” “man cave,” and “shared sacrifice.” As a service to my fellow retirees, I’ve gathered a similar collection of ne’er-do-wells to be banned from publications targeted at us.

While it’s not likely anyone would send retirees tips on how to deal with our baby bumps, I would be happy if I never saw the words “muffin top” or “breadbasket” again. I’d be even happier if I never saw my own muffin top again. While we’re on the topic of muffins and bread, let’s banish “donut hole.” No one understands how that actually works and I’ve about worn it out in my blog posts.

I’d keep “bread box,” though, since it’s a useful term of size comparison. “Bigger than a microwave” just doesn’t have the same ring to it. I would, however, suggest tossing “lock box.” It, too, has served its purpose for my blogging needs. Of course, if Al Gore were to reappear on the political horizon, I might have a change of heart.

A better candidate for banishment than “the new normal” is “the new 50,” as in: “60 is the new 50.” Enough already; 60 is not the new 50. It can’t be, because 66 is the old 65, and pretty soon 67 will be the old 66. If you’re inclined to quibble over this, check out the progression in the FRA (Full Retirement Age) over recent years.

Moving on, I’d hang on to “amazing” and drop “age appropriate” instead. All this blather about what behavior is “age appropriate” for retirees flies in the face of the amazing condition that many retirees are in. Not to mention their energetic interest in politics, fashion, pop culture and—so it appears per a recent study of older women—sex.

Since I now have your attention, I direct you to a report in the American Journal of Medicine on research that followed more than 800 California women over the course of 40 years. (And you know what they say about West Coast girls…) Actually, the study doesn’t say senior women have a stronger interest in sex; rather that the sex is more satisfying when they get older. So much for “age appropriate.”

I digress. This post is not about sex; it’s about language. Overused, misused, useless or annoying language. To that end, I have no bone to pick with banning “man cave;” it sounds so, well… prehistoric. But I’d also like to get rid of any and all forms of “staging,” as in: “My real estate agent arranged for a stager to remove every hint of personality from our cave before we put it on the market so we can downsize.”

While I’d love to eliminate “downsizing,” it will be at least a decade before the baby boom of incoming retirees will have downsized their need for that term. Relative to its role in retirement planning, it’s not even close to being overused. Corporations seem to have come to a different conclusion, however, preferring the more euphemistic “rightsizing.” Yeah, right.

Speaking of not downsizing, “extended family” is another phrase that has outlived its usefulness. An “extended family” now has so many variations and interpretations that the phrase no longer has a reliable meaning. Better to be more specific, using “echo boomer” or “multi-generational” or “sandwiched” family and bid farewell to “extended.”

I haven’t decided yet how I feel about giving up “shared sacrifice.” I’m conflicted about how it applies to my husband and me. I’m good if it means that when one of us cooks, the other does the dishes. Now that I’m retired and watching our spending, I  “sacrifice” by getting my hair cut every six weeks instead of five. Best I can tell, my husband gets his cut about twice a year. If he shared my schedule-lengthening, we’d need to get him a man-cave. Not good.

Until I figure out how we can actually share sacrifices, I’d like to hang onto that phrase for at least another year. If I have to give up some other phrase in exchange, they can have “tighten your belt.” At this point in our lives, loosening our belts is far more useful. It draws less attention to our breadbaskets and muffin tops. Neither of which shall we speak of again.

Retirement Issues — Signs You Need A Fitness Regimen

You may recall from an early January 2011 post that I’m not one for resolutions, preferring instead to share some New Years confessions. Specifically, I wrote: “If people my age haven’t managed to eat less, exercise more, quit drinking or stop swearing by now, New Years resolutions aren’t going to make it happen.”

While I still feel that opinion is very likely accurate, I’ve noticed some signs that it may be time for me to consider the need for a fitness regimen. In the six months since I finished getting the house ready to put on the market, I’ve become increasingly lazy. This in turn has led to some noticeable physical deterioration.

In short, dear readers, I’ve reached the point where I can no longer ignore the fact that age is catching up with me. I’ve concluded that if I don’t take some action and take it soon, age will not just catch up with me; it will overtake me. Ones former self in the rear view mirror is not like Lubbock, Texas; that is to say, not happiness. (For those who didn’t follow country music in 1980, Google Mac Davis.)

In case you think I’m exaggerating my condition, I present ten personally experienced signs that it’s time for a fitness regimen.

10. You buy a seven-day feeder for the cats’ dry food and you’re not planning a trip anywhere.

9. Your mid-section is almost as big around as your chest is.

8. Even your tongue has become fat; you chew on the sides when you grind your teeth in your sleep.

7. You get so out of breath when you lace up your shoes that you’re seriously considering the ones with Velcro straps. (Bite thy tongue! Oh no, wait. I’m already biting my tongue…)

6. You now empty your plate and everyone else’s. And the serving bowls. In all fairness, it’s really your mother’s fault. And your stager’s. Your mom always lectured: “Don’t waste food. Think about the poor starving children in China.” But you threw out most of your plastic containers for leftovers when you cleared out the kitchen to stage your house.

5. You buy a talking scale so you don’t have to bend over to read the numbers. Your eyes can’t see details five feet away without your driving glasses, and you’re certainly not walking out to the car to get them. Besides, your midsection blocks the view of that little window with its teensy numbers anyway.

4. Your muffin top has become more like a loaf of bread.

3. You ask your heating contractor if he can install a remote control on the thermostat.

2. The seat on the couch in the TV room is beginning to have indentations in the shape of your bottom. (Remember the mother’s bed in Psycho? Creepy!)

And the number one sign that you really do need a fitness regimen:

1. You’re too lazy to come up with the tenth sign that you need one.

Happy New Year everyone!

Retirement Christmas — The Nativity as Told by Elaine’s Trees

In celebration of Christmas, herewith The Nativity, as told by Elaine’s Christmas trees. There are three this year: two large live ones, and the small artificial one that’s especially for the cats.

Whimsical animals, handmade craft items  –  Cats’ tree  –  Gold, silver, crystal and china

Most of you think it was an angel of the Lord that appeared to Mary with the news that she would be the mother of the Son of God. Actually, it was her fairy godmother who told her she was preggers.

Angel of God    —    Fairy godmother

It was Mary’s bad luck that she and Joseph had to make a long trip around the time she was due. Something about doing a census so the voting districts could be better aligned to the population. So they loaded her onto a zebra and set off for Bethlehem.

Not surprisingly, there was no room at the inn when they showed up without a reservation, what with all those alumni coming back. Fortunately, they found shelter in a manger, where Mary gave birth to Baby Jesus.

The birth was announced by a choir of angels and by angels with herald trumpets,

and by other celestial creatures with regular trumpets.

Bells rang out throughout the land.

The birth was so miraculous that it actually snowed in Bethlehem, but they couldn’t find anyone to shovel on Christmas Day.

Shepherds came to pay their respects, bringing their sheep along with them

They tended their flocks by night, but by day, they let the sheep wander all around Bethlehem. This was really tough on people wearing sandals.

The locals were a forgiving lot, though, so they honored the Newborn by performing a ballet for His family. It may have been the Nutcracker, or perhaps the Firebird, or even Swan Lake. The Bible is unclear on the details.

Likewise to honor Him came three wise men from the East,

who followed a bright star in the sky. There were several bright stars, so it took them awhile to find the right manger. Also, they were all men, so they didn’t bother to get directions.

They came by camel, ostrich and giraffe.

Yes, giraffe.

Maybe not by ostrich. It could have been lions.

Or maybe elephants. The Bible isn’t really clear on this, either.

More likely it was by zebra, like Mary.

The wise men brought gifts of gold, kesari incense (now the most popular brand sold at Spectrum India), and myrrh.  The last of these was often misspelled as ‘mirth,’ which is how we came to think of Christmas as an especially jolly time.

Less known are other presents that the various visitors brought with them.

Then God told Joseph that Herod was going to come looking for Baby Jesus, so the Holy Family got back on their zebra and left town.

(Note that the zebra is now headed in the opposite direction…)

And that, my friends, is the true story of the Nativity, as told by my Christmas trees.

To those of you who are thinking: “Yeah, right. When pigs fly.” I say:

From your mouth to God’s ear.

Merry Christmas, one and all! And Happy Hanukkah to many!

Retirement Tips — Holiday Gifts for Retirees

Very few retirees are looking to add to their encumbrances. Chances are, they went through a downsizing as part of their retirement process. This can make it difficult to select holiday gifts for them. Here are some helpful guidelines.

If it needs to be laundered, dry cleaned, dusted or vacuumed, forget it. That means no clothing and no knick knacks. In the interest of avoiding inventory buildup, it also means no accessories and no appliances.

I know what you’re thinking: a man can always use another tie/pair of warm gloves/wool muffler. Not true. Nor is it true that a woman can always use another silk scarf/holiday scatter pin/pair of trouser socks.

There are some dirty little secrets that often come to light only when people start rooting around in the backs of closets and bottoms of drawers. (In other words, when they downsize.) Men tend to wear the same three ties over and over. No matter how fabulous the pattern is on that Gianni Versace cravat you found on super sale, it’s likely to get spun to the back of the tie rack within a year of gifting.

Remember the soft-as-butter leather gloves with oh-so-warm rabbit fur lining? They’re now under three spare sets of thermal underwear in a bottom dresser drawer. Those wool mufflers you’ve gifted ever third year or so? Food for the moths that have discovered the shopping bag in the back of the used-to-be-cedar closet. You know the bag I mean: the one with scarves, mittens, gloves (many in half pairs) and maybe an occasional earmuff or polar fleece headband.

How about that church bazaar last summer where you saw the snowman pin exactly like the one you gave your funky Aunt Tilly a few years back? Guess what: it was the one you gave Aunt Tilly. Turns out she’s not as funky as she was in her thirties. Ditto for the Gucci-wannabe and almost-Liberty-of-London scarves you gave Aunt Elvira. You’re right that she’s obsessively label-conscious, but she can also sniff out a fake faster than you can say “knock-off.”

In selecting gifts for retirees, think “consumables.” If you can eat it or drink it, you have a winner. Likewise if you can spray it or slather it. (We’re talking personal care products now, not sex aids or stuff you use to detail your car.)

When it comes to food, unless you’re intimately familiar with the recipient’s tastes, it’s best to avoid exotic items like pickled eggs and blowfish caviar. As for alcohol, you can also skip the caipirinha; everyone knows you’ve never been to Brazil.

If you can deliver it yourself, ice cream is a great gift for retirees. You’ll want to select an appropriate flavor, of course. To that end, refer to the RetirementSparks post of July 16, 2011. We especially recommend Bananayama, Oatmeal Delight or Prune Whip.

If you want to give something unusual in the alcohol realm, put together the fixings for a Mojito and pair it with one of Papa Hemingway’s books. (Mojitos were supposedly his fave.) Another good choice would be grenadine; pomegranates are the new healthy fruit. Be sure to include the recipe for a Tequila Sunrise and put in a copy of the Eagles Desperado CD—the song is on it.

As for products that get applied to the body, soothing creams and lotions are good choices. Stay away from Ben Gay, Gold Bond and anything that has ever been featured in the circular for a national drug store chain. Instead, buy something that one of your neighborhood artisans cooks up at home in her garage or bathtub. Remember: you help the economy when you buy local.

Think broadly about how we consume things. Your shopping list can include books, CDs and DVDs. Pair these creatively with other items. As mentioned above, combine them with food or drink around an appropriate theme.

Subscriptions are also something consumable, but make them unexpected. Instead of Aging Well, give Travel & Leisure. Never mind if they can’t afford to take any trips; in fact, all the better. If there’s one thing retirees are good at, it’s vicarious living.

Movie tickets are another smart idea, but don’t go for those packages that include popcorn and a large drink. Retirees and soda pop make a bad combination in a theatre, especially if the movie is longer than one hour.

This list should give you plenty of great ideas for holiday gifts for retirees. If you’re a last minute shopper, it could be a lifesaver. You can thank me after the New Year. Just don’t give me anything I’ll have to dust.

Retirement Carols — The Twelve Days of Retirement

Please do not skip ahead to day twelve. That would be cheating.

On the FIRST day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Membership in AARP.

On the SECOND day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

On the THIRD day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Three-point-0 magnifiers,

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

On the FOURTH day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Four bristly chin hairs,

Three-point-0 magnifiers,    (good to have a spare)

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

[Getting out of breath…]

On the FIFTH day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Five robo calls—ring, ring,    (Hold that last note, now!)

Four bristly chin hairs,

Three-point-0 magnifiers,

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

On the SIXTH day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Six bottles of Barolo,

Five robo calls—ring, ring,

Yet another chin hair,           (they’re like the loaves and the fishes)

Three-point-0 magnifiers,

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

On the SEVENTH day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Seven alarm-free mornings,

Six more bottles of Barolo,   (replacing the ones I already drank)

Five robo calls—ring, ring,

Four bristly chin hairs,

Three-point-0 magnifiers,    (replacing the ones I can’t find)

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

On the EIGHTH day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Eight Velcro shoe straps,      (I swore I’d never wear those)

Seven alarm-free mornings,

Six bottles of Barolo,

Five robo calls—ring, ring,

Four bristly chin hairs,

Three-point-0 magnifiers,

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

[Now gasping for air…]

On the NINTH day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Nine hours a-sleeping,

Eight Velcro shoe straps,

Seven alarm-free mornings,

Six bottles of Barolo,

Five robo calls—ring, ring,    (enough already!)

Four bristly chin hairs,

Three-point-0 magnifiers,

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

On the TENTH day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Ten milligrams of Lipitor,

Nine hours a-sleeping,

Eight Velcro shoe straps,     

Seven alarm-free mornings,

Six bottles of Barolo,             (thank heaven for day six!)

Five robo calls—ring, ring,

Four more bristly chin hairs,

Three-point-0 magnifiers,

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

[Does anyone have an inhaler?]

On the ELEVENTH day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Eleven committee meetings,            (I need to learn to say ‘no’)

Ten milligrams of Lipitor,

Nine hours a-sleeping,

Eight Velcro shoe straps,

Seven alarm-free mornings,

Six bottles of Barolo,

Five robo calls—ring, ring,   

Four bristly chin hairs,

Three-point-0 magnifiers,

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

On the TWELFTH day of retirement, my new life gave to me:

Twelve more friends on Facebook, (and some were from high school!)

Eleven committee meetings,

Ten milligrams of Lipitor,

Nine hours a-sleeping,

Eight Velcro shoe straps,

Seven alarm-free mornings,

Six bottles of Barolo,

Five robo calls—ring, ring,

Four bristly chin hairs,

Three-point-0 magnifiers,

Two Medicare cards

And membership in AARP.

(Siren sound in background as EMT’s arrive with oxygen…)

Copyright 2011 Business Theatre Unlimited

Retirement Tips — Feng Shui for Retirees

Feng shui holds that our environment is filled with Chi, or energy. At its core, feng shui is about promoting balance to maximize positive energy. If there’s one thing that retirees can use help with, it’s balance. I’ve plumbed the Internet for feng shui guidance tailored to our needs, particularly getting rid of clutter and getting restful sleep. I see several of you nodding: “Sign me up now.”

Feng shui aside, we know it’s good to get rid of clutter. Having stuff heaped all over can be dangerous. I have enough trouble navigating from point A to point B without having to pick my way around objects with sharp protrusions. Let’s face it, when we trip over something, it’s rarely a soft pile of laundry. Feng shui adds the negative that clutter prevents the flow of positive energy.

Unfortunately, the feng shui “how-to” sites don’t offer much practical advice on how to get rid of clutter. Fortunately, the staging process for listing our house last summer provided some guidelines. There are two aspects to de-cluttering. The first is deciding which things are keepers and which are not. The second is figuring out what to do with the keepers. (We know we should donate or toss the rejects.)

One feng shui site recommends that you ask yourself if you really love or need the item. If yes, it’s a keeper. You should also assess if it’s a match with your current life vision or if it harks from times you remember fondly. Those are each signs of keepers, too. Unfortunately, this quasi-helpful site then advises you simply to “find a proper place to store” the keepers. Not to worry. I can help with that.

Buy some large, plastic storage bins with snap-on covers. Get at least a dozen, as you’ll be labeling them with the alphabet and should be able to double up on many of the letters. Take all your keeper items and assign them a label, and put each one in the bin with that letter. Stack the boxes in your basement, attic, garage or spare room. You have now disposed of all that nasty clutter and your Chi should be flowing beautifully.

Feng shui is also concerned with how the five elements—wood, fire, earth, metal and water—influence our lives. The element associated with restfulness is earth. Earth shapes are either square or low rectangles.  In our search for more restful sleep, feng shui would have us replace a bed with a high headboard with a futon. If my husband and I did that, we’d take a half hour just to climb out of bed each morning. Besides, in winter, we drape an old comforter over that high headboard to reduce drafts.

Since the water element can help rejuvenate and renew Chi, that could be an option for restful bedroom décor. Don’t install a fountain in the corner, though. A background sound of running water is not a good idea for retirees. Still water is supposed to be rejuvenating, but a waterbed could be worse than a futon for aging knees. Hanging a crystal in the window is a safer way to recharge retirement Chi.

Some other feng shui bedroom advice seems useful. Place your bed where it has a clear view of the door to promote a sense of security for restful sleep. If you have a TV or exercise equipment in the bedroom, hide it by draping something over it at night to “lower the sense of activity.” I doubt I’ll be tempted to start riding at 3 am, but my husband usually drapes his clothes on the Health Rider anyway.

Finally, let’s talk about a good balance of yin (feminine) and yang (masculine) energy. Supposedly, seniors are prone to being overly yin, reflected in darker homes. You can yang it up by using lighter curtains (draperies slow down Chi) and opening up space. Replace yin furniture—cushiony and overstuffed—with yang—sleek and angular. (Sounds like a metaphor for me and my husband…) I’d rather trip over yin than yang, but maybe you’re not as clumsy as I am.

Yin colors are black, white and pastels, while yang are bright, (making my stager totally yin). To balance the two, you can alternate rooms—one yin-like, one yang-y. If that feels schizophrenic, you can have a predominantly yin color scheme, with yang accents (or vice versa). I’d go with the yang accents so I could hide them from my stager if he came to check up on me.

I realize this is a lot to digest in one sitting, but I’m confident you’re up to it. Especially if you fortify yourself with a nice glass of wine before you tackle this project. Just be sure you don’t spill it on your cushy, white, yin-perfect couch.