Author: richardfleming (Page 3 of 6)

January 2024

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Stephanie McCabe

For most people, birthdays are important markers of their progress through life. They offer an opportunity for family and friends to celebrate. But some birthdays are considered more significant and are referred to as milestone birthdays. Though their importance is more symbolic than real, they nonetheless are often occasions for larger gatherings and more elaborate parties.

An interesting facet of aging is that our feelings about milestone birthdays change over time. When we are young, they are joyful occasions. As we mature into adulthood, they remain notable, but their importance tends to lessen. And as we grow into old age, those milestone birthdays often evolve into what may be more appropriately called millstone birthdays.

Let me explain.

For children, milestone birthdays are very important. Of course the first birthday is always a cause for partying, even though the celebrant is clueless about why people are wearing funny hats and singing a silly song. First birthdays are milestones more for the parents and grandparents than for the child. The fifth birthday marks the time the child will be starting school. Turning 10 is significant because the person has attained double digits. Three years on, they officially become a teenager. A few years later, they become eligible to drive. Then they become old enough to vote. And before long they can buy alcohol. These are indeed milestone birthdays, marking greater maturation, more opportunities, and expanded responsibilities.

Attaining age 21 is an important marker of becoming officially an adult. A young adult, certainly, but a true grownup. 21-year-olds are viewed by society as more mature than 19- or 20-year olds. Thereafter, milestone birthdays are generally considered to be those when a person moves into a new decade of life. People turning 30 or 40 often have large birthday celebrations. Arriving at an older decade represents a notable achievement. People who like to party often include the five year birthdays – 35, 45, etc. – as milestones and opportune times for large celebrations.

Then comes age 50. Fifty is a big one. It symbolizes the person wrapping up the first stage of adulthood. It signifies a person stands on the threshold of middle age. And 50 is often the birthday where friends and family start cracking jokes about creaking joints. About the difficulty staying up late to party. And about the myriad realms in which vitality is declining.

Sixty is another significant occasion. Even more jokes about aging are offered, but they seem less humorous when we turn 60. The birthday celebrant may force a smile when they read birthday card comments about sagging skin and bowel problems, but what they are really thinking is these statements are too accurate to be funny.

It is when we turn 65 or 70 that the implications of milestone birthdays start to sink in. These celebrations, while joyful, can take on a somber undertone. This is the time of life when moving into another decade begins to feel more like a millstone than a milestone. During our birthday parties, we may chuckle as family and friends tease us about how hard it is for us to blow out the candles on our cake, but is this really so funny? And when we reach 75 or 80, the millstone character of birthdays is hard to deny. We can’t avoid reflecting on the reality we are getting ever closer to sundown.

My next major birthday, my 75^th, will come in a couple of years. I’m sure when that day comes, assuming I make it to then, I will think back fondly on how much more energy I had when I was only 68 years old. And I will recall how much more youthful I felt at age 59. Those were the days, my friend, but I did know they would end.

Mind you, I’m not trying to come across as a curmudgeonly old fella, but I suspect that is exactly how I sound. Truthfully, I hope my luck holds so I can be around for more millstone birthdays. But the uncertainty of not knowing how many I still have gives me pause. I know, on an intellectual level, I should appreciate each and every one.

In the years ahead, whenever I celebrate another millstone birthday, I will smile. I won’t begrudge the young folks – anyone under 60 – who will josh me about the accumulating frailties of old age. I will chuckle faintly when I open birthday cards pointing out I have less hair, worse hearing, and a sketchy memory. I will tell myself that at least I’m lucky enough to still be alive, still spend time with my family, and still be fortunate enough to grow even older. I will think of the increasing number of friends who no longer have millstone birthdays, or any birthdays for that matter.

As I move further down the path into the deep woods, perhaps I will eventually get to the point where I no longer consider milestone birthdays to be millstones. If so, I will have finally made peace with my personal reality of growing old. But I’m not quite there yet.

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December 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Juliane Liebermann

As the end of a year approaches, people commonly reflect back on the past and look forward to the future. I try not to dwell on looking backward, but instead try to contemplate – with a measure of optimism and realism – what the future may hold. This December, for some reason, I’m spending more time pondering what the future will hold for our grandchildren and their generation. What will their lives be like long after we are gone? And I especially wonder how growing old will unfold for them, a half century from now. How will their journey into old age differ from the road we Boomers are currently traveling?

It can seem hard to imagine our grandchildren growing old. During this holiday season, their enthusiasm, excitement, and energy is boundless. But their youthful vigor belies the reality they too will one day face the challenges every preceding generation had to confront – how to navigate the awkwardness and myriad booby traps of old age.

As I think about our grandchildren’s generation aging into senior status, I feel apprehensive. My concern stems from serious and evolving problems they will likely face as they age. While the impact of these difficulties will not be limited to the elderly – all of society will feel the effects – they will hit seniors especially hard.

Before mentioning these problems, I want to reflect on how growing old today compares to what it was like for our grandparents to grow old. The aging process today is not vastly different from the aging process then. Our grandparents had to manage the same adversities faced by seniors throughout the ages: health issues, cognitive challenges, finding living situations appropriate for their needs, loneliness, and oftentimes financial insecurity.

People’s ability to navigate these problems is always greatly impacted by the social context of the time. Our grandparents grew old in a society with a new and moderately effective safety net. Medicare and Medicaid were established in 1965 and these programs significantly improved access to health care for seniors. Social Security, originally established in 1935, was expanded in the 1960s and helped with financial security for seniors. Society was moving in the direction of expanding people’s rights, with the passage of the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act. Growing old was not easy for our grandparents, but it was a bit less stressful than it had been for their grandparents.

Today, the societal context in which we are growing old is fairly similar to that of our grandparents. The challenges we Boomers face with aging are roughly comparable to those they encountered a half century ago.

But for today’s youngest generation – Generation Alpha – society might be radically different when they grow old. There are worrisome trends which could adversely impact the process of aging later this century. Two of the most concerning are climate change and artificial intelligence.

On the problem of climate change, unless we significantly reduce greenhouse gas emissions, global warming will be much worse in 50 years. The environment will be more difficult to live in for everyone, but especially for seniors. Extreme weather events will become even more frequent than today. Heat-related illnesses and infectious diseases will likely be more widespread. Old people’s bodies are less resilient. We are less mobile. We are more dependent on an intact medical care system. These realities make seniors more vulnerable to global warming. International and domestic climate migration (away from coastal areas and intolerable heat) will almost certainly divert resources and attention away from the needs of old people.

We already are living with the impacts of climate change today. But the damage will vastly increase in the decades ahead unless there is widespread adoption of renewable energy.

As far as artificial intelligence (AI), the potential risks are enormous. Little seems to be standing in the way of AI’s expanding role in society. While societal control today already rests in fewer hands than was the case previously, AI could well lead to a further concentration of power. The spread of AI in our economy and political system could yield a further erosion of democratic input and popular voice in how society should function. AI can exacerbate social divisions, racial inequality, and stereotyping of marginalized groups, including seniors.

Very alarming is the possibility that machines may one day become “smarter” than humans. If this happens, there will be little reason for machine-controlled societies to value old people. Supporting seniors is a costly endeavor, since we consume more societal resources than we add back. For seniors to be accepted and respected members of the social order, large doses of empathy and love are required. Artificial intelligence is the mortal enemy of emotional intelligence. And compassion cannot be coded into a computer.

Any number of other issues could threaten old folks later this century. Without elaborating on how they might affect seniors, these hazards include rising authoritarianism, wealth inequality, food shortages, and more virulent pandemics. The bottom line is that successful aging may be a vastly bigger challenge for our grandchildren than it is for us.

We Boomers already have a difficult time aging gracefully. Do we really want to make growing old even harder for future generations?

We have the knowledge and wherewithal to reduce these risks to our grandchildren. With a new year dawning, perhaps it is an appropriate time to consider whether we have the will to do so.

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December 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Getty Images

I’m not closely tuned in to social media, which leaves me unaware of many developments in our culture. Unless a new trend gains traction in mainstream publications or television news, I probably won’t know about it. Which may be just as well. Many of these social-media-created cultural phenomena are ephemeral and fanciful. My 72-year-old mind has a hard enough time retaining important information, like remembering the plant watering schedule. It’s just as well I remain blissfully ignorant of fleeting fads.

But there is an interesting trend I recently read about which surfaced earlier this year. It pertains to the challenge of growing old gracefully, and has become quite popular on one of the younger generation’s preferred social media sites, TikTok. This site offers what is called an “aging filter” which uses artificial intelligence (AI) to take a person’s current face and make it appear old. Many young people are using this filter to post videos of themselves looking much older than they really are. Doing so is a source of delight and amusement for their friends and followers.

Folks who upload these humorous videos often start their clips without the filter, so they look young, smooth, and unblemished. Then they turn on the filter to suddenly look much older, with wrinkled sagging skin and thinning gray hair. The person posting often voices shock about their new “old” look, though with a wink and a nod so everyone watching the video can share in the joke.

Another approach young folks use to generate clicks is to upload a video doing something they typically present on TikTok – eating out, cooking, doing laundry, decorating their living space – but they “forget” to turn off the aging filter before the video starts. So it seems an old person is doing those activities. Of course, at some point the person realizes the aging filter was left on “by mistake.” They turn off the filter and heave a sigh of relief that they are now back to normal.

As I learned about this clever phenomenon, my first reaction was one of dismay. I felt it reflected young people mocking the elderly, poking fun at us to score cheap points and increase their social media “likes.” There is enough generational conflict in society already. We have no need to further increase the communication gaps and misunderstandings.

But as I thought more about this phenomenon, I realized the humor and dismay provoked by the aging filter may reflect the concern young people feel about the prospect of aging. Some fear growing old more than they fear death itself. The laughter and attention generated by TikTok’s aging filter may stem from anxiety more than from humor.

So I should not overreact to what might be a fleeting cultural phenomenon. I certainly do not want to increase inter-generational tension.

As I think back on my younger years, I can empathize with today’s youth feeling concerned about growing old. In my teens and twenties, I enjoyed being energetic and vigorous. I was not eagerly looking forward to growing old.

If there had been some mechanism to artificially age my appearance in a photograph when I was young, I probably would have tried it out. Would I have found such an image funny? Or concerning? It’s hard to say. But I do know I would not have widely shared this image with my friends and acquaintances. Actually it would have been impossible to do so even had I wanted to, since social media did not yet exist.

Now that I have gained some experience with the aging process, I feel I should try to reassure young folks that it is not as bad as they may think. As I wrote in a previous post, old people enjoy some benefits not available to young people. An aging filter on TikTok may show the physical appearance of aging, but it cannot reveal the pleasures of growing old. Such as they are. Aging filters cannot predict a person’s future.

The main social media site used by old folks is Facebook. What if Facebook offered a “youth-ing filter” that took our images and dropped 50 years off our age? Then we seniors could post videos and photographs where we’re engaged in old folks’ activities, but look like we’re in our 20s. Now that would truly be humorous. But it would also be humbling. Hopefully AI programmers will not pursue this project anytime soon.

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November 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Zeynep Sumer

It can be challenging to understand, much less embrace, the aging process. There are many aspects of growing old that we rightfully dread. Our bodies inevitably – though hopefully slowly – wind down. Everyday activities like climbing stairs, bathing, and walking eventually become difficult. We find ourselves more easily fatigued as our stamina drops. Even for those fortunate enough to avoid dementia, our minds begin to stumble. Recalling names can be difficult. Remembering where we put our reading glasses becomes frustrating.

Many older folks face serious problems of social isolation and loneliness, and depression is common.

External challenges mount. The duration of pedestrian crosslights appears to shorten every few years, making street crossings more difficult. Parking spaces at the grocery store keep moving farther away from the entrance. At least they seem to. Driving becomes increasingly risky because the roads are filling with impatient people who are evidently honors graduates of the Fast and Furious School of Driving.

Many seniors face serious financial difficulties. Health costs tend to mount. When long-term care is needed, it is expensive and difficult to find. The cost of living keeps increasing, even though many old folks are on fixed incomes.

Popular culture, especially television and movies, tends to portray old people as either frail and feeble, or childishly cute in a most demeaning way. Few older actors play dynamic, exciting, or sexy roles. Ageism extends to advertising. The only pitches aimed at old folks are ads encouraging us to ask our doctors for specific prescription medicines. Or imploring us to purchase mobility assist devices. And espousing the benefits of non-leaky undergarments for our irritable bladders. Even though I try to ignore advertising, I would love to see an occasional ad for athletic shoes for folks in their 70s.

Whew! This is a long list of problems. But growing old need not be viewed as exclusively gray and grim. Some aspects of aging are uplifting and rewarding. Let’s take a brief look at the silver linings in the golden years, a few small subtle perks of aging.

First, there can be a few financial advantages. Old folks are often provided senior discounts at retail establishments. Movie theaters, some restaurants, and public transit systems, among other facilities, frequently charge seniors lower prices. If we travel, we can visit many tourist attractions for lower fees.

Next, there are major benefits in day-to-day time management. After retirement, we gain greater control over our schedules. We don’t need to set the alarm every morning and could – theoretically – stay up late at night if we wished. (Of course, the reality is we often go to bed earlier because we get tired easily.) Even though we may have time-consuming family and home responsibilities, we usually have greater flexibility in our days. We gain more time to pursue hobbies, volunteer work, and community activities. If we are so inclined, we can travel more.

One of the best perks of growing old is grandchildren. Not all seniors are lucky enough to experience this gift, though many have grandnieces or grandnephews. As grandparents, we are able to share the spirit and joy of young children. We can spend time playing with them, bringing back memories of our own childhoods. They lavish us with unconditional love. They look up to us and are not bothered by our cognitive gaps. And, best of all, we hand them back to their parents at the end of the day.

Lastly, one of aging’s magic miracles is that we no longer need to spend vast amounts of time working to secure our futures. Young and middle-aged folks have to devote significant energy and resources to prioritizing and working toward an array of current and future goals. Not us oldsters. Think about it. We no longer have to figure out how to survive in our jobs. Our “to do” lists are briefer and simpler. We no longer need to devote any and all free time to parenting. For the most part we no longer need to acquire a lot of things, like cars, houses, furniture, clothing, and other consumer goods. Because our futures are shorter and smaller, our lives are simpler. Less stressful.

These benefits of growing old are small and subtle. They do not outweigh the many troubles and indignities which build one upon another to challenge our ability to experience joy.

But they are helpful. We should remember and enjoy the perks, such as they are. Doing so can foster a sense of optimism. They can help us see that the glass is one-quarter full.

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November 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Robert Collins

Virtually every aspect of daily living changes as we age. How we dress. The way we walk. How we talk. Our morning routine. What we think about during the day. How we prepare for bed. Everything we do, everything we think, evolves as the decades pass. It should come as no surprise that our concept of fun also changes as we grow older.

I will not focus here on relationships. At all ages, life’s deepest enjoyment and most profound fun is found in meaningful, loving relationships with family and friends. Rather, this post will look at what makes leisure time interests fun at different stages of life.

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As I traveled through my younger years, I found lots of activities to be fun. Now that I’m in my 8^th decade, I still enjoy many of these same pasttimes, but each now carries an asterisk. The enjoyment I experience comes with some qualifiers

Let me go through a few examples.

Parties I always enjoyed parties when I was young. Either out on the town or at someone’s house, it was fun spending time with friends and family, and many of these gatherings extended late into the night. The later they went, the more fun they were. Something about the lateness of the hour made socializing magical.

Parties* I still like going to parties, but they are much more fun if they don’t run too late. One of the paradoxes of aging is that when we reach the point we no longer have to wake up early for work – when we could stay up late – we find our energy, stamina, and even cognition fading when the clock strikes 9 or 10. It’s almost embarrassing to realize that my bedtime now parallels the bedtime of my young grandchildren. There are still times I find enjoyment at parties running later, but this is for the most part limited to New Years Eve. And even staying up till midnight then can be a struggle.

Movies Though I’ve never been a cinephile, I always liked going to movie theaters. There was something enjoyable about relaxing in a comfortable chair, watching a film on the big screen surrounded by great sound, and eating popcorn drenched in enough butter to clog a coronary artery. Experiencing movies with other people amped up the fun.

Movies* Movies are still fun, but much more so when I stream them on our home TV, sitting next to my wife on the couch. I don’t need to spend time driving to a theater, finding a place to park, and driving home after the movie when my energy level is flagging. I also enjoy movies more when I can watch with subtitles. My hearing has declined to the point it can be hard to understand what actors are saying on the big screen. A few months ago we went to the theater to see the latest Indiana Jones movie, and it was disconcerting to hear the audience laughing at dialogue I could not comprehend.

Sports Back in the day, I loved going to see sports in person. Especially watching the Golden State Warriors. I did not get to many games, but tried to attend a couple every season. Even though the seats were usually far from the court, it was fun sitting with thousands of other fans, cheering and clapping. Also in the realm of sports, I used to enjoy playing tennis, even though my good friend Dave consistently beat me.

Sports* My last in-person visit to a sports game was a good ten years back. The energy required to find reasonably-priced tickets, drive to the game, park, and then sit with thousands of other people yelling their heads off became too much. It was more enjoyable watching games on TV. No driving. No tickets needed. I could pause the game anytime I needed a hygiene break. I could replay interesting action on the DVR, in slo-mo, to see what had really happened. Actually, I’m now finding my interest in watching sports – even at home – is waning. I know many seniors who still follow their teams fervently, but by distancing myself a bit from local sports teams, I suffer less angst when they lose. Life is too short to dwell on why my teams lose. As far as playing tennis, that activity was shelved long ago.

Games As a child, I loved games. Hide and seek. Checkers and chess. My childhood friends and I developed an interest in bridge, and we enjoyed playing at the kitchen table, snacking on my mother’s Cajun shrimp. I reached adulthood in the quiet period before video games became a thing. Pong emerged in the early 1970s, and video game consoles appeared shortly after. In those years, I was in medical school and had little time to play games, so I failed to develop the robust video game skills that many of my peers acquired. But I still enjoyed playing an occasional game of chess.

Games* As an old guy, many categories of games are out of the question. Video games are way too complicated and require good reflexes. Board games which go on for hours, like Monopoly, are pretty dicey, since my attention span won’t last long enough. Games with complex instructions are out of the question too. So I’m left with games like Wordle, which are simple to learn and short to play.

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There are many other activities I did not review above which also require an asterisk: reading (books which are less complex), traveling (fewer energetic endeavors), and shopping (mostly online these days), to name a few.

I don’t begrudge young people being able to have fun with no qualifying asterisks. They enjoy action, activity, excitement, and energy. I remember those days with some degree of fondness.

But they are in my past.

I now find more enjoyment in pastimes that are quiet and serene. I do not miss the emotional and physical intensity which used to be preconditions for fun. Young people might view my experience of fun as a devolution and retreat. For me, I see it as a natural evolution. Experiencing fun in quieter, calmer ways does not feel like giving up or making a sacrifice. It is truly rewarding and satisfying. And I plan to – or at least I hope to – continue having peaceful fun for many years to come.

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October 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Amilrali Mirhashemian

(Baby Boomers are far from homogeneous. We face differing financial, health, social, and family situations. My ideas in this post will not apply to every Boomer, but I think they may apply to many.)

In the early 1980s a novel term for Baby Boomers began to garner attention. We became known as the “Sandwich Generation.” This concept achieved wide currency, even though it emerged before social media claimed its role as the sole arbiter of what ideas should be popular. The moniker was based on the fact Boomers carried significant responsibility for the welfare of both the generation above us (our aging parents) and the generation below (our children). We found ourselves in the middle of a proverbial sandwich.

This idea was accepted by many Boomers. Being called the Sandwich Generation was not a pejorative, but an honorable acknowledgment of our role in society. We were the key ingredient binding together the three generations. I cannot speak to how the top and bottom layers of the sandwich viewed this metaphor, but at the time I don’t recall much grumbling from either our parents or our kids.

My wife and I indeed spent much time and energy making sure our parents lived safely and securely through the ends of their lives. And we did our best to make sure our children were well-positioned to be independent, responsible, ethical young people. We served these roles reasonably well, though in retrospect we certainly could have done some things differently. But we provided the best support we could.

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Today, Boomers can no longer be called the Sandwich Generation. For most of us, our parents have passed on, so we are no longer responsible for their well-being. And our children are mostly – with a few significant caveats – off on their own. At least they don’t require, and certainly do not want, parental guidance or advice.

So have we bequeathed the Sandwich Generation role to Gen X and Millennials? Not exactly. Today’s reality is more complex. To begin with, many Boomers are still reasonably self-sufficient. Yes, we have accumulating health problems and other challenges, but most of us can still manage our lives without supervision or support from our children. Most of us have not yet assumed our role as the top slice of bread.

Another way the sandwich concept falters is that many of the children of the Boomer generation still need help from their parents. This is not a critique of younger folks. It is rather a reflection of the difficulties our society and economy have created for younger generations. These problems often require us to support our children in a number of ways.

High-quality childcare is hard to find and tends to be expensive, so many of us spend significant time babysitting grandchildren. Some evidence suggests that Boomers spend more time babysitting grandchildren than did previous generations. This is partly because, compared to our parents’ generation, we tend to live longer and are in generally better health. Simply put, we have more time and energy available for babysitting than our forebears. We take on this responsibility willingly and are rewarded with love beyond measure.

Boomers often continue to provide their children financial support. Again, this is not a criticism. Today’s economic reality tends to make it harder for young people to generate enough income to pay for food, housing, and all the other expenses of daily living. Real incomes have dropped for many jobs compared to the mid-20^th Century. And costs of living are higher. It is true that many Boomers also live with financial insecurity. But many others are in a position to help their children financially.

Nowadays, Boomers also open our homes to our kids more often than was the case in the past. For a variety of reasons, our children often find themselves in the position of needing to move back home for periods of time.

All these situations represent a major change from when we were in the workforce. When we Boomers were in our prime working years, we tended to be financially better off than our parents had been when they were working. And we also tended to be better off in that stage of life than our kids are today in their prime working years.

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Where does this leave things with the Sandwich Generation concept? My proposal is to start identifying Boomers as the Open-Faced Sandwich Generation. We no longer have responsibility for the top slices of bread. But we still have a fair amount of responsibility for the lower slices. I feel this open-faced sandwich metaphor accurately describes many, though not all, Boomers.

But it is a transitory image. We Boomers are growing older each year. I have little doubt we will all soon become top slices of bread. My personal challenge, when that time comes, will be deciding whether to see myself as pumpernickel or sourdough.

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October 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Jaredd Craig

According to some experts, as we age we tend to read less fiction than when we were younger. Apparently it becomes harder for aging brains to digest novels so we increasingly turn to non-fiction when we read. (I am not addressing the situation of people with dementia or pre-dementia in this post. My focus is on old people with our usual, run-of-the-mill aging brains.)

This phenomenon is not tied to old folks reading less. Actually, older people tend to read for pleasure more than younger folks. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, 38% of people over age 65 read for pleasure on any given day, more than any other age group. And we spend more time reading than younger folks, an average of one hour and 47 minutes on the days we do read. In every age group, women read more than men, which I do not find surprising.

But why are old folks reading less fiction than we used to? It seems to stem from our memory losing efficiency. As our brains age, we tend to have increasing trouble with short-term memory and working memory. Short-term memory is how we remember recently acquired information. Working memory is what enables us to understand and process interactions among people or things.

Reading fiction requires keeping track of a variety of characters engaged in various activities over several hundred pages. Finding enjoyment in this activity clearly relies on the efficient functioning of both short-term and working memory. We need to remember the personality, background, and motivations of the character we met on page 17 to understand why he fell in love with a character from page 112, then betrayed her on page 248, and finally received his comeuppance on page 280. When our short-term and working memory functions are getting rusty, novels can generate more confusion than pleasure.

Non-fiction appears to be more digestible for oldsters. It is often grounded in people and events we are already familiar with and have known about for years. So it is easier for us to stay oriented in time and space when reading about history, politics, culture, or social issues.

What are the implications of our changing reading habits? On the one hand, I think it is great that older readers are interested in learning more about the world we live in, leading us to consume more non-fiction. But I’m also concerned that reading fewer novels may not only be a symptom of our faltering memories but may also contribute to a withering of the elderly imagination. Reading fiction is such a powerful stimulus to creative thinking. The last thing we old folks need is for our brains to ossify even more rapidly.

I’m trying my best to keep novelists employed by buying interesting fiction on a regular basis. But there is one problem with this economic stimulus package. The stack of books next to my bed continues growing higher since my consumption of novels is not keeping pace with my acquisition of them.

I’m finding reading novels does seem more time-consuming these days. Ten years ago I zipped through Cormac McCarthy’s The Road in five days. The themes of this novel occasionally percolate in my mind, confirming the power of great fiction to stimulate thinking. When McCarthy died this past June, it made me want to read another of his works. I headed to Bookshop Benicia and bought a copy of All The Pretty Horses. I finally started it a couple of weeks ago, and I have to say it is a rough slog for me. It is difficult to keep up with the characters and the story, and I’m only a hundred pages in. I’m trying to decide whether my turtle’s pace through this book is because I’m ten years older than the last time I read McCarthy. Or is the book itself denser and more obscure? I am enjoying the read, sort of, and intend to finish the book before Halloween. Hopefully.

Interestingly, I can still briskly zip through books on politics, the environment, health care, and economics. I don’t seem to struggle with remembering who Reagan or Carter were. The decades-long accumulation of scientific research on global warming is not a big reach to retain in memory. So maybe my experience confirms the theory that seniors have more trouble reading fiction.

While we’re on the subject of old people reading, a corollary question is whether more reading helps preserve or even enhance our cognitive abilities as we age. The evidence is mixed. One study showed that elderly people who read regularly for eight weeks performed better on memory tests than a similar group who worked on puzzles. Another study showed no difference.

But it seems useful for us seniors to read books of any sort, including novels. There has never been a scientific study demonstrating this activity to be harmful. And who knows, if we seniors read more fiction, perhaps we can find more creative ways to make the world a better place.

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September 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Alexei Maridashvili

Sociologists say society today is comprised of seven distinct generations. Each has its own characteristics, culture, idioms, and values. While these features do not precisely define each individual, they can be broadly useful identifiers, attributable to the political, economic, and cultural milieu in which each generation grows up.

I am an aging Baby Boomer. With the passage of time, I’ve become increasingly aware how each generation tends to disregard the accomplishments of other generations. Especially those who are older.

There are two living generations older than the Boomers: the Silent Generation and the Greatest Generation. I readily acknowledge that for much of my life I underestimated the contributions these older generations made to my life and to Boomers overall. When I was in my teens and 20s, I tended to dismiss the older generations as out-of-touch fuddy-duddies. I thought I knew better and was more worldly-wise than my elders.

As my maturity level increased, I gradually became less dismissive of older folks. But I still did not accord them much respect. I failed to truly acknowledge the two generations senior to mine had blazed many trails. I did not recognize they had mapped much of the terrain that Boomers – now finding ourselves to be old – are traversing.

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Today we Baby Boomers are by far the largest group of oldsters in the country. There are 70 million of us, ages 59 to 77. Prior to us is the Silent Generation, made up of 19 million people, ages 78 to 95. And before them is the Greatest Generation, still numbering about 165,000 folks ages 96 and above.

The Silent Generation moved through life as one of the smallest generations. They grew up in the midst of the Great Depression of the 1930s and during World War II. During those years people had fewer children because of economic uncertainty and massive global conflict. The Silent Generation tended to be reserved, conforming, and cautious, though also committed to improving life for others. Many of the leaders of the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s came from the Silent Generation, including the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., Jesse Jackson, Claudette Colvin, Ralph Abernathy, Diane Nash, and others. Important areas of our society’s ongoing quest for equality were nurtured and developed by the Silents. And I would be remiss if I didn’t note the Silent Generation gave birth to rock and roll.

The Greatest Generation is rapidly diminishing in numbers, but it is safe to say that without their heroism, the world would be very different today. This generation was very hard working, motivated, and self-sacrificing. They struggled to help the country emerge from the Great Depression. They were part of the enormous transformation of the country’s economy from being principally rural and agricultural to one including manufacturing. And, critically important for the entire world, they waged a Herculean struggle to defeat fascism, sacrificing millions of lives.

For Boomers, our lives would be far different were it not for the achievements of these prior generations. Our world would be unrecognizable.

As I move further into old age, I feel a greater need to recognize the debt we owe our predecessors.

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My parents were both from the Greatest Generation. Fortunately, I was able to thank my mother and father before they passed. I expressed my gratitude to them for instilling good values and raising me well. But as I think back from my current vantage point, I feel my appreciation was insufficient. I’m sure my parents valued my thanks, but I should have said more. I should have acknowledged more.

And I should have asked more questions. There are so many things I would love to know about their childhoods and their young adult years. Why and how did they become the people they were? What was it like for them and their communities, traversing the Depression and World War II? How did they become the parents they were? If I had had deeper conversations with them, I would have gained a richer understanding of how they shaped my life, and how their generation shaped my generation. This deeper understanding would have made my thanks more significant.

I know it is important to avoid dwelling on the past. But gaps in communication with parents can never be filled in after they die. I hope this is a lesson younger generations take to heart.

Though the hour is late and the horizon growing closer, there is still time for us Boomers to communicate with members of the two preceding generations. Doing so may help us embrace our elders’ wisdom and legacy, and help us achieve a greater measure of composure as we follow in their footsteps.

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September 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo by Richard Fleming

Uncommon celestial events have always entranced me. I still remember watching the spectacular Leonid meteor shower with my good friend Mark in 1966. Around 9:00 p.m. we drove ten miles north of Topeka, parked on an old country road surrounded by farmland, and lay on the front hood of his Ford Fairlane, drinking 3.2 beer and watching dozens of meteors shower down from high above. It was awe-inspiring.

And the arrival of Halley’s Comet in 1986 has stuck with me. Despite Halley’s famous reputation, its beauty was subtle. Halley offered only a soft smudge in the night sky. Though the comet was moving at 122,000 miles per hour, it was visible for multiple nights that spring. At the time, I was 34 years old and did not fully appreciate the fact it wouldn’t appear again until 2061.

Over the years I have seen many astronomical displays like these. Curiously, as I grow older, I find them more amazing. The passage of so many years, and so many decades, has deepened my appreciation of the mystical beauty offered by our cosmos. And I can experience the magic by simply looking up into the night sky.

Seeing meteor showers, or comets speeding slowly through the sky, or a group of planets aligning, or even the common lunar eclipse makes me feel both humble and fortunate. The universe is so vast, so mysterious, and so wonderful. I am but a tiny, inconsequential part of it. This feels very humbling. At the same time, I am alive today and able to witness amazing astronomical events which have been viewed by so many others over tens of thousands of years. And so I also feel fortunate.

These reflections may explain why I was excited to witness the Super Blue Moon on August 30. Standing with my wife in our backyard as the sky darkened, gazing upwards through tree branches at the massive glowing orb, I felt a sense of calm and wonder. But I also felt wistful. The next Super Blue Moon won’t come until 2037. I could not help but wonder whether I would be around to see it. And if so, would I be viewing it from the same backyard? When that moon appears, I would be 86 years old. I feel hopeful. But I can’t feel confident.

Even on nights when there are no unusual displays, I like to sit under the canopy of a darkening sky. As azure turns to black, I gaze upwards and reflect on my life. My road to this point has had so many twists and turns. I have lived through numerous unusual and sometimes startling experiences, as well as many run-of-the-mill events. And yet I’ve not lived through nearly enough. I want much more, and sometimes feel anxious about how long my voyage will continue and where it will take me.

But who can say what the future holds?

So I was grateful to take a short break from my journey on that late August evening. I was privileged to be able to look up and view an uncommon and amazing full moon, traveling on its graceful path through time and space. As the heavens darkened, the enormous yellow globe seemed to say I should appreciate my life the way it is today. I felt the sky was telling me not to dwell on rethinking the past, and not to try anticipating the future. It gently advised me that genuine beauty and true peace are found in the here and now.

I am still struggling to fully embrace this lesson. Fortunately nature is my patient tutor.

Photo courtesy of Vincentiu Solomon

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August 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Hannah Wei

The aging process affects every part of our body. No organ remains immune to the slowing down and stiffening up which progresses with every turn of the calendar’s page. Old folks can register many valid complaints about the serious problems we experience from our aging hearts, minds, joints, and other organs. But there is at least one body part where aging is more an annoyance than life-constricting.

I’m referring to the aging of our voices.

Most of us don’t have a good sense of how our voices sound to others. And we don’t appreciate how our voices change over time. I came face to face with this phenomenon recently when I recorded my voice to get a callback from a customer service department: “Speak your voice after the tone, then hit any key to disconnect and you will be called back in the order your call was received.” An hour later, the phone rings and I hear a disembodied voice say, “This is the callback you requested. When … Richard Fleming … is on the phone, hit 1.” When my name was spoken, it allegedly was the recording I had made. But it didn’t sound like me. Instead I heard some old guy’s voice stating my name. I initially thought there must be a technological glitch in the recording since my voice certainly didn’t sound that old.

After the callback concluded, I contemplated a bit. Do I really sound like an old guy when I open my mouth? Was that recorded voice I just heard mine? It hadn’t previously occurred to me that my voice betrayed my status as a senior. But after recording a brief voice memo on my phone and listening to it play back, I heard an old guy’s voice. Denial was no longer an option.

I thought back to when I was young – you know, 10 or 20 years ago. In those days I always knew when I was talking to an old person on the phone from the timbre and quality of their voice. And when speaking with seniors in person, their voices sounded, well… old. You know what I mean? A mite thin. A bit raspy. Lacking resonance.

Then I reflected on the fact that when I’m talking with someone on the phone, I may not know from their voice if they are Gen X or Millennial. But I know for sure they’re not old. The vocal characteristics of these middle generations do not distinguish one age from another. But they are very different from the voices of the elderly. Our speech provides audible confirmation that we have traveled far, far down the road.

Voices change as we grow old because of our aging anatomy. Our vocal cords become thinner and less flexible. The muscles controlling them lose strength. Our lung volumes contract and our chest muscles weaken, reducing the volume and force of air we push through our vocal cords when we speak. All these factors combine to change the sound of our voices.

How fast our voices change with age varies from person to person. Some 60-year-olds have voices that sound young. Others sound like they’ve already reached 80. But eventually “old person’s voice” comes for us all.  By the time we reach our 70s, there’s no way we can pass for Millennial when we call the cable company to get our service working. Our voices unmistakably declare we are in the Social Security generation. (Of course, there’s also the reality that few people under age 50 even have cable, so the customer rep knows up front the caller is most likely an older person.)

While I’m on the subject of aging voices, I would be remiss if I didn’t touch on what happens to vocalists as they grow old. I have no personal experience with this phenomenon since I cannot carry a tune to save my soul. (Trust me, my abstention from singing made the world a better place.) But for people who love to sing, the changing of their voice can be difficult. Vocalists can and hopefully will continue singing well into old age, since music enriches our lives in ways that speech cannot. But the quality of their singing voice will inevitably evolve as the years pass.

Whether we communicate through speech or through song – or both – the timbre of our ideas and the pitch of our feelings inevitably matures over time. And hopefully this chorus of voices growing old resonates across the generations.

In the general scheme of things, aging voices are far down on the list of concerns that seniors must spend time on. While I wouldn’t object if my voice of yore returned, there are twelve other phenomena of aging which are higher priority to address. Of course, I will never see improvements in any of them. So I’ll simply settle for using my old guy’s voice to complain about growing old. But I’ll also use that voice to cherish the many wonderful elements of aging. And my good fortune to still be able to experience both.

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