It's a dog's life

My daughter recently adopted a senior dog to take care of. The dog's name is Ariel and she is a sweet tempered Afghan, twelve years old. My daughter has known her since she was a glossy black puppy, and cheered from the sidelines as Ariel won "best in show" and gave birth to two litters of award winning puppies.

Ariel is now grey, and mostly sleeps and eats. She's only been with my daughter for a few short weeks, but already she's broken all the doggy rules. She loves to sleep on the couch and on the bed. She happily takes scraps from the table.

My daughter indulges. After all, if you have lived a long, full life, you deserve to break a few rules, don't you think?

I reminded my daughter to "take notes" because there are a few rules I would like to break when I am old and tired. Chief among them is to drink as many aspartame-laced beverages as I want, and to cook from aluminum cookware with impunity.

Generational Power

I'm reading Generations by Strauss and Howe. I've known from pop culture and my own struggles that the Boomers have been running the show for a long time. Born in '60, I call myself a tail-end boomer. Like the little sister always lagging behind, I missed out on all the pivotal events that made the boomers what they are. I was seven when Woodstock happened. I've tagged behind the 'boomers in everything else, too. I leapfrogged through my career laterally, as the 'boomers had Management all sewn up. So I had to be flexible, alert for opportunities. It took me twenty years to make it to Management, but I did it. I tell my Millenial generation that their progress will be much, much faster.


So I relate much more to the "thirteeners", or Generation Y, who followed the boomers. Their struggles are my struggles. I was with the Gen Y's when we got tested, and tested, again for our literacy. Our horrified teachers would pull out the dusty grammar books and drag us through the basics over and over again. Unlike my Gen Y counterparts, I had learned to read and write thanks to the British West Indies Reader. I'd started my education in the tropics, where they still believed in old fashioned rote learning. After a week of grinding boredom in Canada, a sympathetic English teacher showed sympathy. She exempted me from the grammar exercises and gave me books from her private collection to write book reports on.


The Gen Y is a cynical generation, reserved, not opening up easily. I don't admit very easily to my own cynicism, probably because I tag it as "realism". It really has been that hard to get ahead. I've been laid off. I applied like a madwoman to get back in. I've pommeled that glass ceiling to no apparent effect. I've felt my whole life that the boomers are running the show, and nobody asked me what I thought.


Which is why this book is such a revelation. The authors point out that the Gen Y's now dominate the culture by population. One can't tell by watching television, as geriatric ads now dominate the air waves. Is it perhaps because the media and entertainment industry has a tough sell to cynics?


So who are we, the Gen Y's? What makes us care? This paragraph from the Generations book really hit home for me, regarding civic mindedness, ..."12 percent of them mentioned voting as an attribute of good citizenship. Then again, 48 percent mentioned personal generosity... When you vote, maybe you waste your time - or, worse, later feel tricked. But when you do something real, like bringing food to the homeless, you do something that matters, if only on a small scale. The president of MIT has likened the 13er civic attitude to that of the Lone Ranger: Do a good deed, leave a silver bullet, and move on."



I'm thinking my plans for middle age and retirement are perfectly suited to that mentality. I don't trust that the institutions I will interact with in a few years are at all prepared to be kind, human. I have the power to make a difference, in my own small way, towards a kinder experience in the queues and lines I will eventually join. I have the time and energy to give myself to a cause, and I can do it quietly without a lot of fanfare.


It's a perfectly fine civic activity to keep me engaged and active for a very long time. I think Gen Y's will make great volunteers in our middle years. Just don't pull any fast ones.

I borrow the picture from Charles Rowland, and his blog, whom I suspect is a fellow-feeling thirteener.

Retirement Planning and Queues

Mr. Squirrel has discovered the bird feeder. He'll be making many trips a day to his cache, I expect. I do hope his cache is not in my eaves somewhere. So far, Mr. Squirrel, the sparrows, and chickadees have been at the feeder. They will help me with my list.

A great colleague of mine retired this week. He goes back to school to take philosophy. His dream is to resolve the issue of choice over death. Can we choose our own passing, and how can those we love make the best choice for us? Shold they make that choice? He smiles like a chipmunk every time he talks of his retirement. His parting words to me is to not delay in making my own plans.

Now, my own retirement is over a dozen years away, but I've been a good girl and gone for the training. The trainers were excellent. Their first great gift is that they convinced me that, financially, we will be just fine. They also convinced me that I need a vision, mission, and a plan if I am to enjoy retirement. What is my dream?

To make it easier for people in queues. Start an advocacy and consulting non-profit group that helps people get through the intake process as humanely as possible. We should be able to do this without stuffy waiting rooms, sweaty lines, take-a-numbers, triplicate forms, harried receptionists, and surly intake workers. One wonders sometimes if they make it so hard just to keep the numbers low?

You see, I dread the queues in my own future. Pharmacies. Hospitals. Disability applications. Insurance claims. I fear I will become one of the faceless masses, that pairs of dead eyes will stare past as rough hands stamp, "Rejected".

How do we make the whole experience more humanizing? Why can't intake be like Pike Place Fish, where they make everyone's day? For a few moments, there is genuine contact. And we earn this great connection over fish! http://www.pikeplacefish.com/

Anyways, that's my dream. All the things I want to do will take years to set in motion. But I've got the years. And the talent for making it better.