one more stent

 So are the Beagles' going to live through another winter in the freehold if something doesn't open up at the Brook?  None of my business but how would living in Geezer City be harder than the Freehold?

1986 huh?  I got amazed looks from the whippersnappers when I tell them that I moved in here in 1992.  Oh the changes I have seen in this place.  I would be more than happy to tell the whippersnappers, but they can tell when an oldster is working himself up to telling a long story and they are backing away from me and smiling and nodding before I can get a word out.

I knew the address once and did a google maps search of the freehold, and it was well, out there.  I think Beagles has posted some pictures of the place kind of in the background of what he was showing, but I wonder if he could post some of the place closer up.  Can you still get out to the swamp?  Are the deer stands still standing?  Ever step inside and peer out to see if you make out a deer in the distance?  The Deerslayer in the Winter?

I am getting my second stent Tuesday.  They plan on keeping me there overnight which is something I dread probably more that the four hour ordeal while they do whatever they do.  I will be doped up but I will not be on no swirling ship, I will just be dazed and confused, bumped here and there and basically bored stiff.  But then that long hospital afternoon and the evening and then midnight and then the wee hours.  I will be bringing some books but I may be to fucked up to read them.  And blah, blah, blah, but I will have to remember that I am alive, and I expect I will be feeling just fine in the morning waiting on my sister or my nephew to come get me and put me in a cab and my beautiful cat will be as pleased as punch when I roll in the door.

I assume that Old Dog is going through cardiac rehab like me.  Kind of stupid, some piddly exercises.  I guess there is a whole psychological reckoning but Who me?  I ain't like depressed or anything.

The worst thing is the diet.  I eat pretty good since I mostly eat vegetables, which they like, but there is a problem with salt, seems like it is everywhere.  But they do have a problem with beer.  One a night would be perfectly fine with them, but they don't like me grouping four or five together on Fridays and Saturdays.  It becomes an event, kind of a peak of blood pressure and whatever else.  And my four cheese pizza, forget about it.  Pepper and black olives is sort of ok, but they want me to just have three slices.  I have spent a lot of time with Chaz and he is an enormous help.  Some stuff offsets some other stuff but then that changes something else and Chaz keeps recalculating and maybe it won't be too bad, and the social dinner with friends having drinks is bad but can be overlooked.

Here is something I have to remember, a bunch of people who had all kinds of expensive educations and use these really expensive science fiction equipment devoted it all to me for four long hours and now they are going to do it again.  For a bum like me.  God bless America.

Homecoming

It took long enough but The Old Dog is once again happily ensconced in The Geezer Chateau, arriving yesterday.  A month at my sister's home was plenty; the last time we spent prolonged time together was about sixty years ago, so it was quite a learning experience for both of us.  No arguments ensued, which is a good thing since there are firearms on the premises.  Retired police officers (Brother-In-Law) are seldom bleeding-heart liberals if you catch my drift; I know when to keep my mouth shut.

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All in all, not a bad adventure with minimal pain or discomfort.  I may have had a Tylenol or two but that was it, no heavy meds required.  Lots of other meds though for a while; not sure what they all do but since there have been no adverse side effects, I don't care.  Good to be back to a normal reality, catching up on stuff.  My niece did a fine job of watering my plants and delivering my mail so there were no paperwork surprises, even managed to renew my lease.  This might end up being a nice summer.

The Brook

The one we have in Cheboygan is called "The Brook", although there is no brook on the premises to my knowledge.  It's part of a chain with several other locations, so maybe there is a brook near one of them.  They have two classes of residents, "independent" and "assisted living".  We were shown one of the assisted living units, and it didn't have much of a kitchen, just a sink, a microwave, and a small fridge.  That's okay because we hardly cook anymore anyway.  We get "meals on wheels" from the local senior center, and most anything else we want can be cooked in the microwave.  We will probably eat most of our meals in the dining room, but the meals on wheels people will deliver to the Brook if we ask them to.  

It's quite expensive, you're talking upwards of ten thousand a month for two people depending on what services we utilize.  There is a cheaper place in town called "Medi lodge", but I have heard bad things about it.  That's where they send you when you have exhausted all your resources and are reduced to government assistance.  Hopefully we will be dead by then, or at least so senile that we won't know where we are anyway.   

the bethany

 My Mom lived in assisted living for maybe 15 years.  She was in her late 80's rambling around in that big old bungalow on Homan Avenue and my sister was living in Kenilworth and she was worried about Mom living so far away, but my mother was adamant about staying in the family manse.

Until she wasn't.  One day, out of the blue she declared that that big old bungalow was too big anymore.  My sister and I checked out a few places and decided on the Bethany which turned out to be a pretty good decision. It was a nice place.  They had activities for the residents, and parties for Christmas.  I loved the Christmas party.  There was a small park in front of the building where, as they began to tell the story of Saint Lucia, if you looked closely you could just make out in the park in the dark of night some very faint lights, moving just a little closer, a little closer as the story of Saint Lucia unfolded and then suddenly

Suddenly they turned on the lights which were in the trees and there in the path was Santa Lucia 

There were some kind of gifts, there was cake, and there was ice cream.  There were Christmas carols, and all that Christmas crappola that make it such a beloved holiday.  After Mom died I wondered if I could just go there by myself.

She could come and go as she pleased, though I think she had to sign out.  They had a mini bus that would take them places like Navy Pier and Margies Candy Store where they all got black cows.  They were living large.  Mom had a full kitchen where she could have cooked her own meals if she chose to.  She did not choose to.  She had been cooking meals her whole life and now she was done with all that.

They had a big dining room where they sat 4 at each table and the food was served to them.  The food was warm and the helpings were ample.  My mother was not all that crazy about the dishes but she always cleaned her plate.

I was subbing then.  I would get home from my gig and get on the Brown Line and off at Damen, a nice little part of the city, looked like it should have a toy train running through it, and walk about a half mile to the Bethany.  Mom would just be finishing her supper and then we would go to this big front room where sometimes the son of one of the residents would play old timey songs on the piano and you could sing along or not.  We would chat a bit about nothing in particular.  Ashland Avenue went by in front of us, and I would ask her, "Mom what street is that," and she would answer serenely.  "Cottage Grove."  She had never lived or worked or visited anybody on Cottage Grove.

I would leave for the Ten Cat after about an hour, feeling like a good son.  It was just a little over a mile to the Ten Cat. A very pleasant and interesting walk I still take sometimes. Jake would usually be at the bar and we would have a seminar.  

And for no other reason then that I love the photo, here is this one.

Still Here

We decided against the move to Geezer City.  It would get us out of the swamp for the winter, but living there would involve more work than living here.  Both of us are trying to make our lives easier, not harder.  Our helper lady has two more clients besides us, and one of them is planning to move away, so we might be able to engage her for more hours per week.  We still plan to move to an assisted living facility if we manage to outlive the people ahead of us on the waiting list.  Assisted living is something between those geezer apartments and a nursing home.  They feed you, do your laundry, and clean your apartment for you.  They also have nursing care available if the time ever comes when you need it and are still alive.  We aren't that far down the road yet, but let's face it, we're not getting any younger. 

All our stuff will remain on the Freehold until such time our daughter decides to sell the property.  Then it will all be hers to dispose of as she sees fit.  She has requested that we put the land in her name before we get too senile to make that decision.  We might do that somewhere down the road, but we're not there yet.  We have owned Beaglesonia since 1986, but we have only lived here since 2000.

We have both tried to minimize our medication.  I take two pills for blood pressure, one for fiber, and one for dizzy spells.  I also use two kinds of prescription eye drops for glaucoma, and another OTC one for dry eyes.  My wife only takes one blood pressure pill and Tylenol.  Different doctors have tried to get us to take more stuff, but we have managed to evade them so far.  We have read that Americans are generally over medicated, and we tend to believe it.  

cormorants.

 

Posted this in fb about a week ago, inspired by this spring's invasion of the Chicago River by cormorants.  Beagles responded:

Cormorants arrived here decades ago. They had not been seen here in living memory, and everybody thought it was a good thing, but it wasn't. They ate up all the fish and pooped them all over the place. Since they were federally protected, it was illegal for even the state DNR to use lethal controls. Fortunately, a loophole was found. They started coating their eggs with vegetable oil. This insured that the eggs would never hatch, but the cormorants didn't know that, so they wasted the whole breeding season trying to hatch them instead of laying more.

The treadmills in the exercise room face south over the river which is good because the treadmill is very boring.  I liked to watch the birds, in this case gulls. To me they kind of knit the city together diving and rising on columns of hot air, beautiful and graceful birds.  

But then a two or three years ago I began to notice other birds flying along the river east to west.  They were darker and  flew like they were in a hurry, no gentle gliding like gulls, they had long necks and looked like Stuka jets.  I googled around and turkey buzzards seemed a likely candidate, this is their turf, about the same size, but the resemblance was a little off.

This year they came in force.  They are native birds and they are in the burbs, but the Chicago River is new territory for them.  Well it was so filthy, and now it is pretty damn clean.  The second annual swim meet in the river is later this year.  

As you know I face the lake and in the mornings I could see them entering the river from the lake and flying in like a fleet of Stukas or those helicopters in Apocalypse Now.  (You could almost hear The Ride of the valkyries.)

Unlike gulls, who are not averse to a handout from a human, the cormorants ignore us completely.  They fly close to river and then dive beneath the surface and chase a fish a considerable distance before they emerge with a glint of silver.

Well I am smitten, but you will notice our county cousin is not.  Well we slickers are inclined to view all pigs as Porky and ducks as Donald.  So adorable.  

Google agrees that they have terrible and acidic poop which can kill trees and weaken steel bridges.  But as for eating fish, not so bad a thing because you are getting rid of old sick fish (just like us) and make way for younger fresher fish (those jerks wearing shorts when the temp is in the teens), culling the herd so to speak.  Nature is cruel.  The rabbit is happy when Mother Nature gives it more hoppity feet to outrun the fox, but not so happy to see her give the fox sharper teeth.  But I know Beagles used to fish the Cheboygan River and bring back dinner and I guess to a fisherman every fish a cormorant catches is one that the fisherman doesn't get to

I guess they are passing through on their migration, and only a few stay all year, though in time like Canada geese have learned, this is a nice town to toddle around in.  In the meantime I will be awaiting their return in the fall.

What's up?

Almost May, two months and a few days away from John Meis's fabulous Fourth of July party in Urbans, brats and beers, and fellowship among my fellow beer drinking buddies.  I am guessing this is the 50th.

I'm not going to give an estimate of the turnout, but back in the day it was two kegs of beer and then a hat was passed around and we got a large car full of beer just before the liquor stores closed.  Anymore I get a case and a half of beer and when I leave there is still beer.

Well as Kurt Vonnegut was fond of saying so it goes.  

I remember a time, maybe when the party was at its one keg and a car almost full of package stage and the conversation drifted to conditions and pills.  Geez-a-loo they were all off and running, everybody was talking about all the pills they take and it sounded like listening to the grandparents talking when I was a kid.  I would never be like that.

Well I guess you guys have a similar pill armada.  Got two new ones with the stent, one of which if I forget to take it for awhile I will be dead, and one that I have to take twice a day.  My memory is not too hot but I can easily remember once a day, but twice a day, a little iffy.

I wonder if Beagles has moved into that swinging geezer apartment building.  How many years did you live in The Freehold?  What happened to all your junk?

Too be honest I was scared to take the Aztec route of Old Dog, and the stent sounded somehow, um, safer.  But now I have to get another stent.  They tell me I will be on the table for four hours and will have to stay overnight.  Shit, when the subject of stents came up I thought I would go in in the morning, out in the afternoon and ready to resume all my bad habits.  Now I have to do cardio rehab for maybe three months.  

Speaking of bad habits.  I was down to maybe one cig a day.  But now none at all.  I fantasize about maybe a year down the road if I am all hunky dory.  Maybe having a puff, but probably not.

Well.

So it goes