“To me, old age is always 15 years older than I am.”  Bernard M. Baruch

In high school, I played the ingenue in ‘Arsenic and Old Lace,’ but really wanted to be one of the ditzy old ladies.  Thirty years later I auditioned for the play again with a community theater group, and finally got the coveted role of Martha.  She was sweet, but addled; kind but homicidal.  Playwright, Joseph Kesselring, described her, as an ‘elderly woman,’ about 60 years old.  I thought, “Times have certainly changed since the play was produced in 1939.  Sixty is no longer old ladies dressed in black, but vibrant women running businesses, playing tennis, and working out.”

Fast forward another 15 years.  While watching the news, a young TV reporter announced, “An elderly woman was struck and killed by a hit and run driver early this morning.”  As she went on I pictured a feeble old lady, rather like Martha.  Then the reporter mentioned her age.  ELDERLY!  She was five years younger than I!   Had we gone back in time?  Was it 1939?

The reporter apparently had not read all the “50 is the new 30, 60 is the new 40 and 70 is the new 50”  articles and books.  She was no more than 30.  Using the philosophy of 50 or 60 is the new whatever, she had the mental acuity of a 10 year old.  That would certainly explain ‘elderly!’ When you were 10 anyone over thirty was also over the hill!

Took a break today, and the hosts of ‘The Chew,’  discussed how their grandmothers influenced their lives.  Clinton mentioned  his grandmother (she’s 94 and doesn’t look it at all) gets up every morning and says, “this is going to be a great day.”  She lives in San Francisco and walks 2 miles every day!  Carla’s grandmother told her, “it’s your job to be happy.”  Regardless of what life brings you, it’s up to you to decide how you will react.  Daphne’s grandmother said “only boring people get bored.”  She too, felt that you are responsible for your own happiness and enriching your life.  Sounds like these ‘elderly’ ladies were on to something.

Like the grandmothers of the Chew Crew, how you feel and how you age has more to do with mindset.  I’m not suggesting that nothing changes (I notice my joints aren’t as flexible as they used to be).  So, am I elderly?  I don’t know.  Mature sounds better and like Mr. Baruch, old age is AT LEAST 15 years older than I.

Here are my top reasons for enjoying where I am in life (pass it on to Letterman, he’s retiring this year):

10. You make your own rules

9.   Think about the grandmothers above.  Life experience makes you wiser.

8.   You can do all those things you’ve wanted to do, because now you have the time.

7.   You love your grandchildren but, face it, they go back to Mommy and Daddy and you can rest.

6.   You can have a leisurely breakfast and actually read the paper.

5    Again, like the Chew grandmothers you realize you are what you think.

4.   It is your schedule — not a company schedule.

3.   If you work out, you don’t have to go to the gym at 5:00 am to accommodate your job.

2.   There’s always time for friends.

And the top and number one reason to enjoy your age (whatever it is):

1.   Consider the alternative….

 

On “The View” last week, there was discussion about a mortuary in Michigan that came up with a new idea. It’s a drive through!  It had various windows through which the deceased could be viewed by mourners who wouldn’t have to leave their cars.  Something like the take out window at a fast food restaurant.

New idea?  I don’t think so!  Back in the eighties, a friend sent me an article about a funeral home in California using this concept.  He suggested it could be an “add-on” for an idea some of my colleagues had dreamt up.

It all started when my friend,  Doug, announced an idea for a Rent-A-Coffin business.  His reasoning was sound.  Coffins, cost hundreds (even thousands) of dollars, are used for only a short time, then buried away.  What a waste of money!

Frankly I wasn’t into the whole Rent-a-Coffin thing — it was too morose for my taste.  I mentioned it to another associate, Bill, who shook his head and smiled, before rushing off to a meeting.  However, a couple of days later, he walked into my office, sat down and said, “I was thinking about that ‘Rent-A-Coffin’ idea you had.”

“Wait a minute Bill, that was Doug’s idea”

“Doesn’t make any difference who came up with it, I think I have a much bigger business opportunity, and you just might  be interested.”

“Ah Bill, I’m not interested in going into a new business right now; and even if I were, I don’t think it would have anything to do with death or caskets.”

“Before you dismiss this, Sharon, hear me out.”

I sighed and nodded affirmatively, wondering what would come next.

Bill continued.  “Think about this.  Sooner or later, we all die, so there’s no end to this opportunity.  Funeral expenses, can be astronomical, and relatives get sucked in because they don’t want to have a wake or service that looks cheap.”

He rose, “Picture this, a mortuary, next door to a crematorium.  The family can pick from Doug’s ‘Rent-A-Casket’ models…anything from metal to hand carved wood.  The interior will use only the finest quality material.  The rentals are reasonable and the family does not have to pay thousands for the casket.”

He sat on the edge of my desk and continued.  “Now as you know, I’m Irish and know how to throw one hell of a wake.  Even with food and liquor, I’m sure I could bring it in for somewhere between $10 to $20 a head.  That’s an excellent price!”

“Following the wake, there will be what ever type of ceremony is desired and following that, the body will be taken to the crematorium, and removed from the casket before cremation.  How does that sound.”

The only word I could come up with was “crazy,” but Bill was on a roll.

“Sharon, we could franchise this.  It could be one of the biggest startups ever.  Oh, and I almost forgot, we’ll call it, ‘Wake and Bake.'”

I started choking.  “Bill, you are sick!”

Undeterred, he left my office.  “That’s OK Shar’ … just think about it.”

WAKE AND BAKE — no way.

I relayed the story to a friend who let me know about the drive through place in California.  He subsequently sent an ad for a Chicago company that makes headstones — while you wait!  The Michigan mortuary is way behind the times.

I’d love to see the faces of the “Shark Tank” crew, if Bill were to pitch this proposal.  Wonder if there would be any takers?

 

 

Have you ever had a a pain or some other medical discomfort that began on a Friday night or over the weekend?  We’re not talking heart attack here, not the kind of thing that has you running to the ER.  Rather, something you must suffer through alone, because your doctor’s office is CLOSED.

One Friday evening I noticed the TV picture was blurry.  I figured my eyes were tired.  But, the next day, while getting a pedicure, I realized I could not make out the facial features of a woman seated not 30 feet away.  Hmmmm.

Once home, I took a “selfie”  eye test, covering first my right eye and then the left, while viewing a picture.  The vision in my left eye appeared to be fine, but with the right, it seemed as if I was looking at something under water.  Thinking I was wearing my contacts too long, I traded them for glasses.  Then, took the same selfie test with the same results.  By evening, the eye was red and I had a headache.  What could this be?  That’s when I made two huge mistakes.

MISTAKE #1  DO NOT GET ON THE INTERNET TO DIAGNOSE YOURSELF.

I, of course,  googled blurry vision and found a specific selection for “blurry vision in one eye.”

MISTAKE #2  NEVER READ DIAGNOSES UNLESS YOU ARE A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL

It was Saturday night, and it seemed I could have  macular degeneration, a brain tumor, cancer of the eye or an aneurysm.

There is a rule, that states:  “things always seem worse at night, particularly if you are alone.”  You may be the most positive person on earth,  but in situations such as this, the mind goes straight for drama.  I focused on the prognosis grim.  Yes, I was going blind, or dying or both.

By Monday morning, my head ached, my eye hurt and my vision was worse.  The eye doctor’s office opens at 9:00 am.  I was on the phone at 8:30.  Fortunately someone was there and I got an afternoon appointment.  I was convinced I would be told to go straight to the hospital.  “Should I pack a bag?”

Upon arrival at the office, the doctor asked several questions, then gave a thorough exam.  He left for a minute, returning with an associate.  “OMG, he needed to consult with another doctor.  This is serious!”

Another exam and then the diagnosis.  I had keratoconjunctivitis which in lay terms means that I had inflammation of the conjunctiva, a moist membrane covering the outer surface of the eye.  Only mine wasn’t so moist.  “You have dry eye syndrome,”  he said. Funny, I didn’t see that on the internet.

So, I wasn’t going blind, or close to death.  Glad I didn’t bring a packed bag.  What a relief.

But, I needed to know why this happened so asked the doctor, “What would cause this to come on so suddenly?”

As he walked out of the room, I heard his reply, “Sharon, sooner or later we all dry up!”

This week on “The Chew,” the hosts discussed a new device for the person on a date called – “les miserables.”  It’s a bracelet that can be worn by either men or women.  When needed, the wearer merely taps it, which signals his or her cell phone to ring.  Once answered, an emergency is feigned and the date magically ends!  This brought back memories of an evening  I had years ago.  An acquaintance suggested I go out with someone from her office.  He and I were the same nationality so (using her fractured logic) she knew we would be perfect together.

There were omens the evening would be disastrous.  While getting ready, the zipper of my dress got stuck.  I ran  to my neighbors to get help, and while she was fixing the problem, her dear little dog peed on my leg.  I didn’t have another pair of hose, so back home, stuck my leg in the shower.  Of course my hair and dress got wet in the process, so I had to change clothes, then dry my hair, leg and hose with the hair drier,

The door bell rang and there he was.  Apparently he had been told him that if a little bit of after shave is good, the entire bottle is even better.  OMG!  My asthma was kicking in.

Rule number one for blind dates is: meet for coffee or drinks.  That can take 20 minutes, maybe less.  Unfortunately this was a dinner date.  I could be held captive for more than an hour.  Over dinner, he suggested so many plans for future dates.  My responses were “oh really,” or  “perhaps,” or “that sounds interesting.”  Trust me, nothing he said was interesting!

After dinner he ordered espresso and Sambuca and that’s when he uttered words I will never forget (and believe me I’ve tried).   He must have gotten the line from some Grade B (or Z) movie.  He leaned back, one arm over the back of his chair and said, “Some day, I don’t know when, but some day, I’m going to make love to like you’ve never been made love to before.”

Seldom have I ever been rendered speechless.  I just stared at him.  While my voice was silenced, my brain was still working. It kept shouting, “Only if you’re a necrophiliac!”

As he drove me home, my mind was racing.  “How can I get rid of him.”   Where was that bracelet from the future?  The “goodnight kiss” was a struggle of epic proportion which I refer to as “the dance.”  He wanted the evening to last, I wanted it to end.  I tried moving away, he kept following. I tried pushing him away, he held firm.  So, with a quick cha cha side step, I moved forward, twisted and swung my foot around driving the heel of my shoe right through his sock and into his ankle!  “Oh, I’m so sorry.  Are you OK?  You better go home and soak  that.”

Then quickly I moved to the “piece de resistance!”  A quick pirouette, and I unlocked the door, with a second spin moved inside my apartment, closed the door and locked it again.  The judges from “Dancing with the Stars” would have been proud!

The date from hell was over!

Almost two years ago, I did it — I RETIRED!  Prior to that moment, I thought, “what will I do?”  Start a blog was number one.  Remodel the bathroom and replace the deck in the backyard.  Then there was the reminder, “don’t forget to clean out all the ‘stuff’ in my office,  and get back to the gym.”  Yep, that was my list and I was raring to go.  First the blog.

While at a relatives wedding in Maui, my grand-nephew (I think that’s what they call the child of your niece) entered the room, looked at me and said, “Well if it isn’t Sharondippity.”  OMG!  Simple, small, accidental and unexpected.  There it was, a name for my blog SHARONDIPITOUS MOMENTS.

You see I believe in serendipity — those accidental moments when desirable discoveries are made.  My style of writing is  a commentary of events, ideas, etc., most often in a humorous way, which would compliment the blog name.

After months of contemplating retirement, the inevitable first day arrived.  I slept in!  For several months thereafter, I did the same thing.  People would ask me, “what are you doing?”  I had no answer.  Over the years, I’ve had some pretty interesting occupations, so I’ve always had an answer to that question.  But there I was trying to come up with something … anything!

I rejoined my old Toastmasters Club, becoming active as an officer, which led to writing a weekly review of the previous meeting.  Thank goodness for our membership.  There was no end to finding entertaining, educational, thoughtful and humorous topics to write about.  The creative juices started flowing.

One thing led to another and we realized our club website required updating.  I hadn’t a clue about how to work on website design.  A fellow Toastmaster led me to a class and here I am.  I can work on the clubs website and start my own!  Hmmm, there appears to be a serendipitous theme going on here.

This is my blog.  It will cover my post retirement journey, as well as special memories from the past, and a myriad of opportunities that lie ahead.  Cooking will be involved, because frankly I love it; pets (particularly cats) will be mentioned, because I love mine; and I suspect there will be many other topics.  Hope you enjoy my journey.  Let me hear from you.