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Memoirs of a  Geezer! Reflections and Observations  -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth  ...

Showing posts with label ageism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ageism. Show all posts

Friday, July 8, 2022

"The Nomination is the Award!..." (subtitle) The Curse of Ageism, and What Geezers Face when Discarded, Ignored and Diminished by Society!

 

Memoirs of a Geezer

  
Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!


This Episode:          "The Nomination is the Award!..." 
                       (subtitle) 
                       The Curse of Ageism, and What Geezers Face
                       when Discarded, Ignored and Diminished by Society!


Can't readily recall where I originally heard the expression, the one used as the main title of this posting.  It seems apt, however, for those who did not have the great honor of rising, somewhat stunned, walking up to the awards presentation stage to be handed the top prize...    but who, nonetheless, were so honored by their peers, one of a just a chosen few...  not blessed with ultimate victory, perhaps, but at least...   nominated, even though steeped in GeezerHood, considered to be out of date, obsolete!

The new book that I was privileged to write and have published is entitled, Making a U-Turn in the Gig Economy.  SweetHeart helped a great deal by contributing excellent topic ideas and editing skill.  Our wonderful granddaughter, Lucy, created all but one of the gorgeous, cartoon-like illustrations.  Younger granddaughter, PhiPhi, drew one picture, and that, too, is featured toward the end of the book's content.

It's somewhat like a serendipitous find while walking in the park, for example, when a large denomination note of currency suddenly and completely unexpectedly appears at your feet.  You stop and pick it up, discovering that it's real.  You stuff it in your pocket, and there it seems to grow, even glow, as if emanating stars and sparkles and bright colors, and you begin to levitate, in a way; you lose yourself in pleasing thoughts of using that find to perfect advantage....

But I digress a bit.  I seem to do that frequently...  The Book...   When SweetHeart and I
discovered a large crack in our "Nest Egg," we knew we had to find new means of generating income.  At a certain advanced age, one finds oneself, sadly, a victim of Ageism and irrelevance.  It matters little how brilliantly you may have performed in your professional life, how many awards and accolades you received along the way.

When we reach a certain age, we become mere labels...   "Seniors," "Elderly," past our prime.  The perception among the young -- to those of us no longer in the bloom of youth -- is like a scar or a poison pen letter or a false accusation or a striped prison tunic with a large number sewn onto its chest position...  A stigma, like a contagious disease, like a toxin.

In spite of brilliant Curricula Vitae (CVs), endless job searches, want ads, internet career sites and too much more, all pursued exhaustedly, we, the "Geezer Set," are rejected, abandoned, ignored and forgotten, like so much detritus cast onto curb sides and rubbish heaps...    So what then? 

We swallow our pride, accept reality and the "career paths" available to us.  In our case, food delivery driving, using our own vehicle on our own schedule.  No base salary, no insurance, no promise of an IRA or a pension or a so-called "golden parachute." 

But then...   like a kind of curative drug, a precious discovery, the great and glorious career has its joyful moments, a kind of re-awakening, and thus we decide to write a book, chronicling our experiences and adventures, the fun and the funny, the enriching and educative moments, the voyage into uncharted seas.  We begin collecting tales, writing down the memories, the rewards and the pains, after five or six years of picking up and delivering food to those who harvest their sustenance from smart phones and the "Applications" loaded into their complex circuitry.  We have something to say, something rare, something relevant and important!

The results, both unexpected and gratifying, can make the joys and the miseries seem almost worthwhile, worth the time and the travel, the mileage, the aging, unbent limbs locked into position in what seems a perpetual motion contrivance, and the costs of fuel and the setbacks and the wasted time and motion that so often come with the territory. 

Again, the unexpected!  We're invited to conduct a class via a university's continuing education program for older adults.  We've been invited to discuss the book before a large and erudite group, a book club, one populated by intelligent and well-read members.  Both events would center on our book, and the gig economy generally.  The former may be cancelled due to low registrations, but it's the nomination that counts, that lingers in memory like a sunlit day at the beach with crusty bread, ripe fruit, cool drinks and sugary treats.  

But then my thoughts return to the potential audience, and whether anyone who lives in
well-to-do neighborhoods has ever had an occasion to be mired of necessity in the gig economy.  There are exceptions, of course.  And, it's summer...  People tend to remove themselves from tedium, travel on holidays to pleasant, sunny and summery environs, and try to recall what it was like to be young and carefree.   Many are buoyed by strong spirits and mugs of cold beer, but like the holiday itself, a kind of phantom, ephemeral, gone like the fading of a dream.

But inside our heads, in our minds' eyes and memory, the things that cannot be removed or erased (save the devastation of dementia, of course), we can savor.   What used to be or perhaps what might have been, and we can lose ourselves in the joy of knowing we were awarded the nomination.  And we'll always have those triumphs, successes, our trophies and our victories.  Those thoughts, those ideas, are locked inside our psychic vaults forever...  or until we're dead!   

(Special Note:    Making a U-Turn in the Gig Economy is available through Amazon.com, as a Kindle, a Hard Cover version and as a Paperback.  One can also purchase the book at a somewhat modest cost directly from the author...   joelkrio@gmail.com...   Thank You!)

[ 2.  The perpetrator dedicates this posting to SweetHeart for her precious and indispensable partnership, support, superb ideas, her editing skills.  In addition, we dedicate this writing to Lucy, without whose gorgeous illustrations, the book would not be the literary and aesthetic jewel that it is!  Readers are welcome to judge for themselves, of course!  "Jewel" may be considered by some to be somewhat hyperbolic!  (But probably not!) ]    



  

          

    






Wednesday, September 18, 2019

Where Are They? Where'd They Go...??!!

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth 
to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!


This Episode:     What Ever Happened to.... ??!!


It's an outrage!  Something must be done!...   Arthritis? Gout? Pustules?  Boils, pimples?  Back spasms!  Knees that sound like a chuck-a-luck game? An
elbow that's constantly being banged into hard, immoveable objects?  Pain?  LOSS!!  I mean, why is it that those of us who have fallen into the pit of advanced age...  I like to term it, "GeezerHood"!...  have to suffer so many agonies and indignities, including the scourge of Ageism itself?  

Most importantly, most significantly, where the hell are all my great and good friends and family members? I mean...  where'd they go??!!  Why!!??  

Steve, Pat, Jim, Boobers, Patty, Karen, John, Bob, Carol, Tommy, Morry, Abi...  so many others.  Where are they?  To what train, bus or duty station do they repair (meaning, report, as if commanded to do so by a kind of tribunal...  a military term I never quite understood! ...sorta like the mystery of Military Time!!)?  Where do they go once they jump off the mortal trampoline and disappear into the ether, a dense fog, mystical smoke...? 

Come back, damn it!  Wherever you've gone, they don't need you.  We need you!  We want you here, with us!  You left far too damn soon, too young!  

I remember a support group to which I once belonged.  We were discussing the existence of a deity and the possibility of an afterlife, the concept of reincarnation...

One member of our group opined that he actually did so, or wanted to believe in reincarnation.  It seemed to the member that additional lives tend to reconcile all of the inequities of human existence.  "Why are some people born rich and privileged, while others are thrust into spheres of poverty, disease, racial caste systems, physical and intellectual infirmities, to languish in sadness, mediocrity and misery?," he asked, sort of rhetorically, to no one in particular, or to the group as a whole, perhaps.

"I mean," the member continued, "why can't we come back, be reborn in circumstances that are different from those of a former life?  Poverty to wealth...  perfect health to lack of it...  Conversely, why don't the rich and privileged, those who never truly suffered, come back into a life of poverty and abuse, even a smattering of abject stupidity...?  Now that would be true equality!"  The rest of us pondered deeply the member's passionately-expressed musings! 

"I'd like to come back as a big fish," one member countered   The rest of us looked at him as if he's been suddenly lobotomized.  No one asks why "a big fish?"  (Why not a pelican...?  Just wondering...  What about a Bonobo!?....) 


I think I'm getting off the track, sort of!  I guess I mean to ask the great, unanswerable question:  "Why does it seem that, too often, the best of us die young, too young?  And why do so many 'great souls' (so to speak) leave us too soon, when their lives had so much meaning, and they had so much more to share and to give to the worlds in which they lived, and to the people and worthy organizations with whom they co-existed, or for which they volunteered?"  

I mean, there was so much more I wanted to say to and discuss with my friends, meaning the "departed ones."  So much more I wanted to do with them...  travels, adventures, and, yes, even educative activities such as reading and talking about good books, voluntarism, intelligent films...  politics, too, of course, dependent upon one's philosophy, attitudes, beliefs, values!  (Politics is tricky stuff, we're often told!)

Steve!  Patsy!  Patrick!  Booby!  Where the hell are you, and why don't you visit anymore??!!  Dreams?...  I talk to my dead loved ones in my dreams!  Sometimes the conversations are a bit silly, sometimes rather poignant!  I talked to Steve, recently, while he and I were seated on an unrecognizable concrete stoop.  "What's Sue really like," Steve asked me.  I told him my thoughts.  He looked at me for a long moment, smiled and appeared to accept my assessment.  We also talked about the haircut of an athlete we both admired.  What the hell was that about?...  I have no idea...  Oh, and Larry?  Steve never knew him, but asked his age.  "Lare the Hair" was my friend from the other side of the continent!  (I wonder if HE's still with us??!)  

I keep pictures, images, of two of my dearest friends on my computer desktop.  One or the other pops up unexpectedly, every so often, when I turn the thing on in the morning.  I talk to the "popped-up" one for a brief time when that happens.  We smile at one another, and then go on with whatever tedium commands our attention at the moment, content, I suppose, to have had a brief encounter!  
Not a real photo, but an artists's depiction of spectres,
or ghosts, rising from tombs, or some such,
preparing to visit the living...  maybe??!!

I miss my dead friends, and family members, too, of course, who are no longer interacting with us in the realm of the living!  Emotions boil to the surface...  anger, resentment, frustration, sadness, longing...  Resurrection of the dead is not in our domain, unfortunately, except in memory or dreams,  or perhaps the mental wanderings that seem to affect us all when a pleasant stare into nowhere and nothing becomes a reverie, a journey into a distant sphere of consciousness.  I wonder...   Maybe I'll dream about P.T. tonight!!  We'll have a fine little chin wag...  that I may or may not remember upon waking!    

(Special Dedication:  To all of our dearest dead friends and family members.  We'd like to hear from you when possible!  Give us a sign or something...  For example, when Patty died, she returned as a butterfly and landed on us, and once on Boober's golf club.  Booby came back, we think, as a house fly.  We enjoy those kinds of signs (sort of like "medium-ship" -- inter-spiritual communication, maybe?) and reappearances of the departed too, of course!!  "Hello?  Hello??...  What was that you said? What?...")  

(Another Thing -- a Definition:   dead... /ded/  Adjective
1.  No longer alive.  "a dead body"...   synonyms:  deceased, expired, departed, gone, no more, passed on, passed away...  (In Botswana, I believe they prefer "Late"!  Kind of a nice euphemism, eh??)  (I find that many people in many different societies and cultures don't care for the word, "dead," but tend to use euphemisms, such as those listed above!  Interesting, what?). Oh, what about "Past Tense," maybe "Former Person"!!