Indignities

 As I age, I need to keep on learning, keep on laughing, keep a sense of humor...or I'll shoot somebody. 

I just read "A Man Called Ove" and watched the Americanized movie version "A Man Called Otto". Lots of food for thought. Well done. Recommended. Without revealing any real plots, it's about a man struggling to find meaning and purpose in a changing world, a world changing too fast for him to keep up. I can relate.

Former blog posts talked about the exponential growth of technology and fast paced societal change. Maybe in this one I'll simply relay a few of the frustrating but funny events that seem to be happening all the more frequently.

Navigating the web, keeping track of usernames and passwords, interacting with automated telephone communications, are becoming more and more tedious, sometimes impossible. Even giving instructions to our Google player. It doesn't seem to understand. Thank God for my son in law, who just the other night quickly set us up with an Apple+ subscription on the TV, something I had unsuccessfully attempted to do for the previous hour. He also guides us with our cell phones and computers. Every family needs at least one techno-savvy member.

I have had my taxes prepared for the past 17 years by a CPA firm in Waterville. Always been happy. Until last year. The bill more than doubled. Time for action. I had always successfully done my taxes before...on paper with IRS books. So I attempted it this year. It took me two days and I knew I had done it wrong. It said I had under withheld by $2,500 and owed a penalty which I also couldn't calculate. Was it always so difficult? Or was I no longer up to the task. 

I signed up for free tax prep at our Senior Citizen Center and showed up for my appointment with all my paperwork. A pleasant, elderly woman took my information and my paperwork and an hour later we were called in to sign documents. Not only did we not have to pay a penalty, we got a $1,500 rebate! Happy...but chagrinned.

Hearing loss adds to my disgruntledness. And face masks make lip reading and understanding impossible. My hearing aids help, but only to a point, especially in noisy environments. Connie has become my interpreter, my hearing ear dog.

My first reaction to the indignities of aging, like Ove, is to behave like a grumpy, old curmudgeon. My second reaction is to laugh at myself. I prefer the latter. And I try to be mindful about it.

Last month we were herded like hogs through the airline security and customs systems on our trip to Grand Cayman. It was degrading and exhausting. We lost things, dropped things, got in the wrong lines. Connie lost her cell phone as we were pushed through the TSA march from hell. And I hurt my knee.

It swelled up like a balloon and I gimped through MIA International like an old man. The gate attendants in Grand Caymen suggested a wheelchair...and I begrudgingly agreed. But when we disembarked at the gate, there was none. I stormed off like an old curmudgeon. And, an hour later, was barely navigating. It slowed us down so much we almost missed our connect.

The following week I made an appointment to have the knee checked. The X-ray tech was a heavyset young, black woman with dreadlocks and a mask. She escorted me back to a dressing room and, with her back turned from me, gave me instructions which I didn't understand. I said, pointing at my hearing aids, "I didn't hear you." She turned around to face me, stepped up to my face and yelled "TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS!".... which I did.

I tried to get a haircut last week. I called my regular place and got put on hold for 5 minutes, then disconnected. I called back and the attendant asked me to hold. I announced my name said I had been holding and could I drive over for a cut. She said "Yes, we are very busy"...and I was disconnected again. So I drove over. When I walked in the attendant asked if I had an appointment. I said yes and told her my name whereupon and a stylist whirled around and said angrily, "I tried to tell you there would be an hour wait, but you hung up on me". I turned around and walked out without comment. Time for a new barber.

So I walked into Bruno's across the street. A woman in a mask pointed a finger at me and yelled across the room "Are you Walter?" I shook my head no. She yelled "Well, who are you?" I said, "I want a haircut." She said, "Well, you need an appointment. And I don't have any!" Again I turned around and walked out. 

I was about to give up, just like I had with the TV Apple+ subscription and the taxes but decided instead to plod up the street in the -10-degree weather and walk into another barbershop that had recently opened. The big burly barber greeted me, took my coat and gave me the best razor cut and shave of my life. He was from Lebanon and his English was poor, but a hour later after a neck, shoulder, face and head massage, and after he trimmed my eyebrows, my ears and my nose, I tipped him well. He held my coat and gave me lollipops. 

New barber, Check.

Some people are kind and accommodating to people with disabilities and with the aged. Some people are not. Some people are human beings. Some people are dicks. I am determined to not be a grumpy, old curmudgeon dick. It's not easy.

 Just need to keep plodding along because it's not going to get easier. Just gotta keep laughing.

In your face, CHATGPT!