Charlie

It depends on how one defines "The American Dream." If one uses the definition posted above, then I did achieve it, in "The American Way:" I got much more formal education than my parents did--they were both high school drop-outs, while I ended up with three higher education degrees from top schools. As a result, I got better-paying stable jobs. That was what my parents dreamed would happen to me. But America also changed over our lifetimes, because unlike my parents, I didn't live through an economic collapse and a Great Depression which forced them to work at whatever jobs they could get to support their parents, who didn't have Social Security to help them survive through the first years of the Depression. I graduated from high school into a thriving post-war economy, which enabled my parents to afford to send me to college, when tuition, room and board at a good private college cost less than $2000/year. Of course, I did my part by getting good grades, which got me scholarships and work-study jobs that minimized what it cost my parents, and my first graduate degree was covered entirely by a fellowship. Sociologists would probably have described my parents as respectable lower-middle class. I would probably be considered lower-upper-middle class, based on my education, work history, social connections and financial assets. Their/my dream came true. The question is whether the members of an American family today could rise in the same way by the same means.

Seriously. I thought she had died a few years ago.

I wonder if his preferred pronoun is "they."

I didn't realize she was still alive.

I came out at 17, so most of my early experiences were with "older men." However, the article defines "older men" the same way I did then: men in their 40s to 60s. Not geezers, like I am now! (BTW, those "older men" are the ones I am still attracted to, not those young enough to be my grandsons.)

"Hello?" "Yes, this is Marlon Brando."

Surprisingly, I have known dogs named Otis, Scout, Diego, Bailey, Buster, and we adopted a dog already named Duke.

In 1984 my partner and I bought a new Toyota Corolla to replace our old one. In 1985, we happened to get an unexpected financial windfall. I wanted to put the money into a retirement account. He said, "No, I want to buy a Mercedes." I asked why, since we had just bought a new car. He said, "I would like to own a really nice car for once in my life." So I gave in, and for the next 23 years we owned only Mercedes sedans, which were a pleasure to drive. When the last one was twelve years old and had 113 thousand miles on it, we decided to get something more practical, so we bought a Toyota Prius. I hated driving it. When we were ready for our next car, we went back to the Mercedes dealer, and bought an SUV. After six years, I was sick of the expense of the constant services and gas guzzling. A year ago, we traded it for a relative cheap Nissan SUV (in fact, it cost more than our first Mercedes). I have no regrets, because to my surprise, I think it handles much better than the Mercedes, and it gets much better gas mileage. And besides, the Mercedes didn't make our cocks any bigger.

It is mostly tree pollen and grass pollen for me. This happens to be the time of year when old grass is scalped and winter grass is seeded in Palm Springs, particularly on the numerous golf courses. It also is when the gardeners go crazy with tree trimming.

I started playing tennis in my 60s simply because it was exercise that I enjoyed doing. It wasn't until I had been doing it for several years that I saw the first article about a study that showed that regular tennis players were less like to injure themselves in a fall than non-players. Aside from the aerobic and muscle exercise, sprinting around a court hitting moving balls improves a person's balance and ability to react quickly to his or her environment. The disadvantage, of course, is the potential for injury to hip/ankle/wrist joints from improper repetitive usage. I play for two hours three days per week, and I have never had a serious fall, on the court or off, even though I am now now in the--ahem--"over 80 age demographic."

He was a sweetheart.

I just finished reading My Father's Brain: Life in the Shadow of Alzheimer's, by Sandeep Jauhar, a noted cardiologist. It's a memoir about his experience with his scientist father, who eventually died of Alzheimer's. It is a worthwhile read for anyone dealing with a family member or other loved one with Alzheimer's dementia.

I wonder why he calls himself "CatCityAndy" when he is not located in CatCity but in PS. Was he formerly located in CatCity?

"Give me men to match my mountains!"

I also prefer to bag my own items, because I encounter so many "baggers" who have no logical system for loading the bags. I bring different kinds of bags for different categories of items.

Photoshop? His bicep is larger than his head.

But it's not cheap to get there or stay there.

What is going on in Singapore with all these new ads by guys who are obviously from other countries?

Lucky must have forgotten how to give the address, because he used to be a Manhattanite.

Our local waste disposal company provides us with three separate disposal containers: trash, recyclables, and "green" waste, which includes composted food and yard waste, such as plant and tree trimming. Interestingly, we have been told that dog poop, which many people consider organic matter like food waste, should not go into the green waste bin with the compost, but into the trash bin. Since I haven't been able to train Fido to use the toilet, I always collect it and put it into a separate plastic bag in the trash bin.

Like most people, I tend to look at friends and acquaintances in similar circumstances as models, both good and bad. My oldest and closest friend always lived alone. When he became terminally ill in his 50s, he had a younger gay friend who was a doctor, who took him into his own home and cared for him with professional helpers until his death. Unfortunately, I have no young friends like that. Another close friend of mine lost his younger partner to AIDS. He retired and moved across the country to a small town on the Oregon coast where he knew no one. When he developed Parkinson's disease in his 80s, a friendly straight neighbor took over management of his affairs (she even did his taxes!). She found a live-in caregiver so that he could eventually die at home in his own bed. I have very friendly straight and gay neighbors, but I don't think I can depend on them for that much assistance. My mother moved into a retirement home with independent/assisted living/nursing sections, when it became difficult for me to care for her in my home; it was her own choice--she said she actually preferred to be around more people her own age. When my spouse was first diagnosed with Alzheimer's, I thought about doing the same thing, and we visited several multiple-tier retirement communities. The ones we thought we could comfortably afford for many years were always in areas where we knew no one and we had no already established medical support system. We decided instead to move into a local 55-plus gated community, which at least had organized social activities and exercise facilities, and was very gay-friendly. It served us well for several years, but now we need much more for him.

At least we do have some things settled--on paper, that is. My brother-in-law is executor of our estate and has both financial and health care power of attorney for both of us, with his daughter as the back-up. (She is a high-powered lawyer, which is reassuring.) But whenever I have brought up my concerns, he always simply says, "Don't worry, I can always get on a plane and come to deal with things quickly." The lawyer daughter always says the same thing: "Don't worry, we can deal with whatever happens," and I'm sure they believe that. But they live a thousand miles away, and I suspect that their way to deal with things will be the way that is most convenient for them, which probably means moving one or both of us close to them, in a place where neither of us knows anyone else. I don't blame them for that--I would probably do the same in their shoes--but that is not where I want to spend the rest of my life. I have always had close friends, the kind of people to whom I would feel safe giving control of my financial affairs, but the problem with old friends is exactly the fact that they are old, and the likelihood that they would be capable of taking care of me in the future gets more tenuous every day. It's all very well to say one should engage more with younger people, but that is easier said than done, especially when one lives in a geriatric community and is tied down as a fulltime caregiver for another old person. I have only one good friend who is much younger than I am, and although she is very understanding of my situation, she has a very busy life of her own, and I don't feel justified in asking more of her than sympathy and advice (her own mother died last year of Alzheimer's). We do have a dependable financial advisor, so I am sure that we have the financial resources for our care, but I do like your advice of meeting with a professional estate planner to possibly get another perspective on things we may not have thought about.

I wonder if there is anyone else here who is dealing with a situation similar to mine. I am now basically the fulltime caregiver for a spouse who is several years older than I am, and in steady decline, both physically and mentally (advanced Alzheimer's). He comes from a large family, which includes a younger brother, a married nephew and an unmarried niece, all of whom are both able and willing to assume responsibility for him if anything were to happen to me. However, I have no family; I was an only child, so I not only have no siblings, I also have no nieces or nephews; my closest blood relations are a couple of younger cousins whom I barely know, no one from a younger generation to take care of me if I become unable to care for myself. If I should need care while my spouse is still alive, I have no doubt his brother, niece and nephew would take care of both of us. But there is a good possibility that I will outlive my spouse, possibly for many years. My spouse and I have been together for 55 years, so his brother has known me since he was a college kid (he's now 75); his children have known me all their lives, and sometimes even refer to me as "Uncle Charlie." Nevertheless, I wonder if they would feel the same kind of responsibility to to take care of me after their brother and uncle is gone, even though it would probably not impose a financial burden on them. I like them and trust them, but I don't think I should expect the same commitment from them that I would expect from my own family members, if I had any. If anyone here is in a similar situation, what kind of plans have you made for a future in which you might no longer be able to care for yourself?

Back in the days before ads had photos, I answered a new ad in Philadelphia for a guy who described himself as "handsome." I went to the address he gave me, and when I walked in, I saw immediately that only his mother would call him "handsome"--and she probably did, and he believed her, but he was quite homely. The limited body description was fairly accurate, but it took only a short verbal interchange for me to realize that he was mentally challenged. I suspected that most potential clients would take one look and walk away, possibly with a harsh comment. I couldn't do that, because to me it would feel like abusing a child, so I went through with the act, although it wasn't easy for me to get physically aroused, although he was very excited by the sex. I was not surprised that the ad didn't stay up long.

Especially with a new hire, I always preferred to hire someone who hosted at his place. That way it was much easier for me to end the session and leave if I was dissatisfied.