Author: richardfleming (Page 3 of 6)

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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August 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Jill Sauve

My wife and I are very fortunate to be able to babysit our seven-month old granddaughter several times a week. She is cute and adorable beyond words. But being a grandparent is harder now than the last time we saddled up for this rodeo. (Our two other grandchildren are 13 and 11 years old.) The reasons are two-fold. First, the job requirements have apparently evolved over the past decade. And second, we are undeniably a bit older.

To start with, babies weigh more now than they used to. Carrying our precious granddaughter around takes a toll on my low back. When my two other grandkids were 7 months old, hauling them around was easy. They didn’t weigh much. Picking them up was accomplished without a moment’s hesitation. Nowadays I have to steady myself and stand carefully when lifting my granddaughter. And it’s not only my back. Sometimes my shoulders join the chorus of complaining joints.

It also seems that babies have acquired new skills they never possessed ten years ago. Our granddaughter recently learned the “army crawl,” a maneuver in which she scoots quickly across the floor while on her stomach, pushing herself forward with her arms and legs. I acknowledge my memory isn’t what it used to be, but I have no recall of our previous two grandchildren engaging in army crawling. They simply went from perching on their stomachs to what used to be known as “crawling.”

Our granddaughter’s new mobility skill set requires a new babysitting skill set. When babies set their minds on exploration, they can move pretty quickly. But I never lost a race to our first two grandkids when they decided to crawl towards the stairway. My, have times changed. Our 7-month-old can army crawl almost as fast as I can walk. So when the little darling decides she wants to scoot across the floor to explore a wooden chest, I have to move quickly to make sure she doesn’t dent her forehead on the sharp corner.

Actually the process of watching a baby is much more involved and tiring now than in the past. With the first two grandkids, I could easily babysit each one by myself all day. Now it requires two grandparents on duty simultaneously to do the job well. I must say I am mystified, amazed, and impressed at how mothers are able to take care of their children alone. Hats off.

Another changing part of grandparenting is the emergence of new technology. Tech advances are supposed to make our lives easier and more efficient. But the new tech of child-rearing is a mixed bag, in my opinion. Previously, when we put our grandchildren to sleep, we made sure the crib was nearby so we would know if they started crying and to ensure they stayed on their backs. Well, that simple approach is ancient history. Currently there is a small camera and microphone mounted above our granddaughter’s crib which monitors her every breath, movement, and sound. We had to download an app to our phones which alerts us with a loud alarm if there is any problem with her sleeping or breathing. It’s nice to be able to go to a different part of the house while she sleeps, but the last thing we need is yet another app on our phones.

Milk bottles have also been redesigned. They now have some kind of internal apparatus which supposedly lessens babies’ air swallowing when they are drinking milk. Now I am far from an expert in these matters, but I have yet to notice any reduction in gassiness with these fancy new bottles. When I stand up to gently burp my granddaughter, she produces the same quantity and quality of satisfying belches as my first two grandkids. The new bottle technology has also not affected another aspect of post-feeding activity. My efforts to get my granddaughter to belch invariably lead me to belch once or twice also, just as happened a decade earlier.

But there is one tech development which is a clear step forward. If you are not a recent grandparent, you may not know they are now making indestructible books for babies. These cute volumes look like the paper books of old. I lost count of how many books my first two grandchildren destroyed ten years back. But these new books are truly impossible to rip, tear, chew to pieces, or damage in any of the myriad ways babies can attack books. I cannot tell you what a relief this is.

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I do not mean to sound like I’m complaining about babysitting as a grandparent. It is one of the most treasured and valuable parts of growing old. It is an opportunity that some of my friends have not been able to experience. Yes, it is more challenging now than when I was 60 years old, but it is still rewarding beyond measure. When my granddaughter smiles, the room lights up. When I make a funny face and she giggles, it is an expression of joy and love which transcends the generations. It makes the increasing obstacles of being a 72-year-old grandparent disappear.

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By Richard Fleming

July 2023

Photo courtesy of Allison Saeng

When people are fortunate enough to retire, clocks start acting funny. Time becomes more fluid. 8:00 pm is no longer necessarily 8:00 pm. Before retirement, each hour of every day is tied to our work schedule. Free time is limited and precious. Scheduling of all activities, hobbies, family events, even sleeping, is dictated by timetables imposed by work. But when these schedule restrictions recede into the past, time becomes a bit loosey-goosey.

It’s not that retirees live lives of leisure, free of responsibilities. We are still required to babysit grandchildren, clean the house and yard, shop for groceries, cook, and keep up with current events. Our schedules can also fill up with hobbies, volunteer work, political activities, non-political activities, and non-active activities. But the rigidity previously imposed by the ticking clock dissipates and our hours become more flexible.

Looking at how bedtimes change for older people provides insight into shifting circadian rhythms. Working people often hit the sack around 11:00 pm, maybe 12:00 midnight. But for many retirees, including my wife and myself, bedtime moves a couple of hours earlier. Our energy starts to wane in the early evening, and by 9:00 or 10:00 pm the siren call of the mattress becomes irresistible. No matter whether the day was active or slow, it just seems harder to maintain alertness, stamina, and an upright posture at night. For us, 8:00 pm is the new 10:00 pm.

This change in circadian rhythm in the elderly is an interesting phenomenon. Our daily cycles are rooted deeply in biology. Every part of our body runs on a 24-hour clock controlled by a region deep in our brain called the anterior hypothalamus. Through hormonal and neurological signaling, this part of the brain orchestrates a complex daily symphony among our organs, tissues, and metabolism which varies on a 24-hour schedule. The body is pretty cool, right?

This circadian rhythm remains relatively stable for most of our lives, until aging starts to creep in. For reasons not well understood, older people’s 24-hour cycles tend to time-shift, usually moving forward a few hours. As an example, let’s look at an older person living in California like myself. In the evening I may look at our wall clock in Benicia and see it reads 7:00 pm. But my body is winding down and feels as though I was back in my hometown, Topeka, where the clocks read 9:00 pm. (A brief clarifying note for any Gen X or younger folks who have stumbled across this blog – older folks usually have large clocks mounted on our walls at home. We use them to tell time. I understand you probably consider wall clocks anachronistic since you are never separated from your cell phone. But you will come to see the importance of wall clocks, with large numbers, as you grow older.)

When unexplained phenomena occur, such as people’s biological clocks resetting with age, researchers are eager to find answers. It should not be surprising that a group of Swiss scientists decided to study this puzzle. Switzerland, of course, is known for its close attention to watches, clocks, and strict time schedules. A little over ten years ago, researchers at the University of Zurich performed skin biopsies on young and old people and grew the skin cells in culture media. They noted that human skin cells have regular 24-hour cycles for functions like how permeable they are and how fast they grow. Skin cells from young and old people both operate on 24-hour cycles, but the older skin cells’ timer was shifted a few hours earlier. This finding confirmed what we older folks experience in real life. We go to bed early, not because we’re sluggish, but because biology insists we do so.

The researchers discovered another interesting finding. They grew the younger folks’ skin cells in broth containing blood from older people. What happened? The young people’s skin cells shifted their circadian rhythm clocks to match those of older people. Some factor in older folks’ blood forced young people’s skin to reset their daily clock to match that of older folks.

The question of why this phenomenon takes place is not yet answered, but I suspect it is due to evolutionary selection. There just isn’t, and never has been, a lot to keep older folks occupied and busy at night. We don’t party much. We don’t spend a lot of time on late night entertainment options. So why not catch some Z’s? We seniors have no reason to feel guilty about heading towards our bedrooms at 10:00 pm. The Swiss have proven it is due to our biological clocks. We can pin the responsibility on our anterior hypothalamus.

In closing I will note there is a very weird, unexplained phenomenon which characterizes some seniors. For a small proportion of retirees, their clocks reset in the opposite direction. They stay up much later than they did when working. Bedtime no longer comes at 11:00 or 12:00 pm, but instead at 1:00 or 2:00 am. Morning alarms become extinct. For them, awakening at 10:00 am or later is no cause for embarrassment. Actually they view it as a badge of honor. The explanation for this peculiar lifestyle is as yet unknown. If any research turns up answers, I will post the findings.

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July 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Huy Phan

As I grow older I become more sensitive about comments younger folks occasionally make. One that irks me at the moment is when a young person tells me, “You look good.” I heard this observation quite a bit recently after living through another birthday. Restaurant staff where we had a small family dinner celebration asked how old I was. When I told them 72, they invariably said, “Oh, you look good.” The same thing happened when some young acquaintances recently asked how old I was. While the next three words were not spoken aloud, they were clearly part of the thought process – “You look good… for your age.”

I try not to be a curmudgeonly old grouch. I understand younger folks intend this as a compliment. They are telling me that, in their opinion, I look younger than my age.

So what bugs me about this comment?

First, what are 72 year olds supposed to look like? Common wisdom says people of that age look withered – wrinkled skin, thinning gray hair, a turkey neck, stooped posture – and looking old is considered unsuitable. Society feels looking younger than one’s age is always to be preferred, even for young people. Many folks in their 40s prefer to appear they’re in their 30s. People in their 30s often prefer to look like they’re in their 20s. Or even their teens.

But what is wrong with a 72-year-old looking 72? It is nothing to be embarrassed about. To me, most people in their early 70s look pretty good. They manifest a wide range of appearances, but looking well-seasoned is, to me, inspiring. And the older I get, the more my standards for presentable appearance evolve. Older people look more and more natural and pleasing to the eye.

Also, of course, there is little correlation between physical appearance and how actively our minds work. Or how full our lives can be. Our body may look like we’ve lived for 70 or 80 years or longer, but our brains may function as though we are in our 40s. And our schedules are often busier than when we were in our 30s.

Actually I feel very fortunate to have reached my current age. Too many family members, friends, and acquaintances never had the opportunity to be – or to look – 72 years old.

Now, I will also acknowledge that when a person in their 70s looks like they’re in their 60s, that is well and good. But it is not virtuous. During three decades serving as the internist for many seniors, it was apparent that whether a person looks their age – or looks younger or older – is often outside their own control. Genetics plays a prominent role. A person’s lifetime of work influences their appearance, with some jobs taking much more of a physical toll. A person’s family and community situation impacts their appearance for better or for worse. Those with higher stress levels tend to look older more quickly than those living in a more secure, comfortable environment. Personal lifestyle choices of course play a role in a person’s appearance, but external factors loom large.

Bottom line, there is nothing wrong with looking one’s age. For those of us fortunate enough to attain older ages, we can celebrate our years of service no matter our appearance.

OK, enough with the sour grapes attitude. I need to learn to politely accept this comment when offered by young people with open hearts. When they say, “You look good,” I should just say, “Thank you.” It’s true I would prefer to hear those words rather than “You look tired” or “You need to take good care of yourself so you can have more birthdays in the future.”

It’s also important to realize that when young people tell a senior “You look good,” they are projecting a measure of anxiety. They know old age is coming for them too. And young folks inevitably wonder how they will look and feel in 30 or 40 years. I get it.

People of all ages share much in common as we journey down the pathway of life. Each generation should honor and learn from those further down the road. And cherish the younger folks who have less experience traveling through time. In this spirit, I’m considering a small change. I want the younger generation to know how much they are valued by older folks. The next time a Gen Z or Millennial tells me I look good, I will respond with a simple, “Thank you. You look good too.” If my reply is met with a look of puzzlement, I will follow up with, “No, really, you look good for your age.” I think this is a positive way to convey appreciation and mutual respect.

What do you think?

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June 2023

By Richard Fleming

Photo courtesy of Bruno Aguirre

There is no single, universally-agreed-upon time when each of us leaves mid-life and enters old age. But there is no denying a qualitative change occurs in those of us fortunate enough to live into the golden years. This transition into old age is marked by profound changes: physical, emotional, social, cultural, and economic, among others. In past articles I have reflected on some of these subjects. And in future posts I will continue examining our journey into and through old age.

But today I want to discuss a different, very concerning phenomenon.

For people living in the U.S., our lifespans are falling. In other developed countries, life expectancy is increasing. But not in these United States. I do not mean to be alarmist, but if this problem continues, consider one of the implications – old age may start earlier here than in other developed countries.

Let me explain. For most of the 20th Century, life expectancy in economically developed countries increased over time. The U.S.’s upward trend closely paralleled our peer countries. But starting in 1980, a gap appeared between us and other developed countries. U.S. life expectancy continued increasing, but at a slower rate than elsewhere. Over the subsequent three decades, the gap continued to widen.

Then something unexpected happened. Beginning in 2010, life expectancy in the U.S. stopped increasing. We plateaued. In 2010 our average life expectancy was 78.7 years. Ten years later we lived only one month longer, on average. Among comparable countries, life expectancy continued increasing. In 2010 it was 81.4 years. A decade later it had improved to 82.6 years.

This trend is worrisome. But what happened next is even more startling.

In 2020, because of Covid-19, life expectancy fell around the world. In the U.S., the average lifespan decreased by almost two years. Among our peer countries, lifespans dropped by six months. In late 2020, vaccines became available and Covid treatment protocols advanced. In 2021, thanks to improving approaches to the pandemic, lifespans in our peer countries recovered dramatically, returning almost to their 2019 levels. What happened in the U.S.? In 2021, life expectancy dropped by another year.

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When I was growing up in the 1950s, common wisdom held children would outlive their parents. As healthcare, nutrition, economic security, and safety net programs improved, increasing longevity for each generation was an expectation. A birthright.

But in our country today, this is no longer the case. If current developments hold, many children born in the 2020s may live shorter lives than their parents. Or even their grandparents. There is little doubt children born in the U.S. will, on average, die earlier than children born in Western Europe or a number of Asian countries.

A country with our resources, knowledge base, and technology should do better. But for the past four decades we have been falling further and further behind comparable countries.

The reasons are not complicated. Good health insurance is unavailable to many people in the U.S. Safety net programs are withering. Economic insecurity is worsening year by year for many swaths of the population, which contributes to deaths of despair. Mortality from drug overdoses, gun deaths, and suicide is climbing.

Life expectancy by county

While the lifespan averages I have cited refer to the country as a whole, longevity in the U.S. varies dramatically depending on where you live. From one state to another, life expectancy differs by up to nine years. From one county to the next, life expectancy varies by as much as 20 years. This should not be surprising. State and local government policies vary on issues like access to health care, availability of safety net programs, nutrition assistance programs, gun safety policies, and access to addiction treatment.

Another mortality difference stems from variability in Covid vaccination rates. On both a county and state level, regions with higher vaccination rates have higher life expectancy.

Mortality rates also vary depending on who you are. There is a significant and longstanding racial disparity in longevity in our country. African Americans tend to die 3-4 years earlier than white Americans. Native Americans have the highest mortality rates, living 7 years less than white Americans.

Gender differences in lifespan are also significant. Women tend to live about five years longer than men in the U.S.

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In the middle of the last century, the average lifespan was about 69 years. In those days, old age began around 60. As decades passed, the onset of old age seemed to be pushed later as lifespans lengthened. Today there is certainly room for debate on when old age starts, but 65 years, give or take, is a fair estimate. By that age, mid-life is definitely in the rearview mirror. We enroll in Medicare. Our vision for the future is becoming murkier and the horizon is drawing closer.

But if current trends continue, we may have to recalibrate our expectations for when old age begins. In the future, I wonder if people will once again feel that old age in the U.S. starts at around age 60. In contrast, Japan and Germany may view old age as starting around age 70.

Will the earlier start to old age in the U.S. be a source of national embarrassment? Will it lead to any policy changes? I hope so. Solutions to our mortality problem are not complicated. Many other countries have systems in place which are proven effective. I fervently wish our kids and grandkids can live longer and healthier lives than us.

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