Category Archives: Aging

I Love the Midwest

Imbolc      Waxing Moon of Winds

Finished the Asmat tour and a visual thinking strategies (VTS) tour for 3rd graders.  I give them tomorrow morning.

Put together the legislative update for the Sierra Club blog and a morning entry for the Star-Trib.  Soon, it will be nap time.

This afternoon and over the weekend I’ll dig back into the American Identity piece for the 15th. It’s been fallow since Monday, but it has not disappeared from my consciousness.  I’m leaning now toward a definite geographic hook, an addition to the more usual psycho-political work I’ve read in Huntington and some of the other essays.  I’m not sure yet whether I consider it an equivalent to those notions or whether it is a more important category.

Here’s what I mean.  The notion of a nation is abstract, in the instance of a nation as geographically large as the USA, it can become even more abstract.  My hunch is that, as all politics are local, so are all experiences of national identity.  In other words, my experience of my land, my hometown, my home state or region is, both of necessity and emotional depth, the basic ingredient of my affection for my native land.

That is not to say that This land is my land, from California to the New York Island doesn’t also inform my national identity.  I feel the Rockies and hollers of Appalachia, the rain forests of Washington State and the glaciers of Montana have a place in my sense of national identity, some of them in spite of my never having visited them.  They recede in importance for me, however, when I compare them to acre after acre of corn and wheat.  They do not have the emotional resonance for me the Great Lakes have, especially Huron, Michigan and Superior.  My life has been lived in the towns and cities of the Midwest and I love the Midwest.  When I think of my US identity, I think first of the Midwest.

More on this to come.

Cabin Fever and Feeling Old

Imbolc      Waning Wild Moon

I know this will continue a down refrain from the last couple of weeks, but I want to talk about it anyhow.

One of the more problematic parts of getting older lies in the corrosive nature of normal problems.  That is, today and this last week I have felt slightly sick, unwell but not moving outright into a cold or the flu.  This may be, probably is, a hangover from the vertigo of two Mondays ago, but I find it hard not to ascribe it to generally decreased vigor.

When I went to the  capitol on Tuesday, I was there from noon until 4:00 pm or so.  By the time I got home I felt completely worn out.  Yesterday at the continuing education at the Art Institute the thought of waiting from 4 p.m. until 6:30 p.m. to do a walk through of the Asmat exhibit found me on the way home.

A certain shuffle in the walk necessarily accompanies vertigo, since rapid movements often tripped the spinning/nausea cycle.  That shuffle, the tenderness and care with which I held my body, made feel only months away from assisted living.

As I write this, a more plausible explanation than age occurs to me.  Writing has a consitent therapeutic value, something I appreciate about it.  I’ve been inside and hunkered down since late December, only venturing out for Sierra Club, Art Institute, Woolly Mammoth or sheepshead events.

The cabin fever that can strike us  Minnesotans during this time has been noticeably absent from me this year.  I thought I’d beat it with interesting and varied activities.  Nope.  This tunnel vision, feeling like life has no breadth, comes from the inside life.  It also creates the old guy feeling of a life with no pizzazz and no energy, then reinforces it with whatever examples the environment offers:  vertigo, feeling a bit off.

There.  Now I have to get ready to go the Institute.

Working Myself Out Of A Glum Mood

Imbolc   Waning Wild Moon

It’s cold again.  8 degrees with 3 for a windchill.  I’m always glad when the weather gets in synch with season, at least the seasons as I knew them.

I had drifted away from working out over the last ten days, too afraid I’d fall over on the treadmill or bonk myself with free weights.  Whenever that happens, I can get glum, down.  I did, but after a workout on the treadmill this afternoon my mood lightened.  Partly because I did not fall off.

The legislative committee for the Sierra Club meets via conference call every Wednesday night at 7pm.  I’ve chaired two meetings now since Dan, the chair, is also a lobbyist for Clean Water Action.  Some of our bills have begun to pop and the politics look complicated already.  Gonna be a good spring.

When The Bell Tolls, It Tolls For Tor and Celt and Morgana…

Imbolc   Waning Wild Moon

Our Arcosanti bell has rung and rung today.  A north wind has blown in at speeds up to 24 mph.

Kate bought this bell quite a while ago on a trip to see her father.  When she brought it back, we had just experienced two Wolfhound deaths, I believe it was Celt and Scot.  I suggested we hang it and let it be a memorial bell for all of our dogs.  And so we did.

My day at the capitol yesterday wore me out.  I remember when I would go to the capitol and be there all day, sometimes until late in the night.  Geez.  It’s a long drive in to St. Paul, so I’m going to limit myself to one trip in a week for right now.  As the weather warms and the session gets more action oriented, I may go in more.

It’s important to be there from time to time, to take the pulse of the place myself for the Sierra Club blog.

Liverish Lips, Gray Hair, Needs Naps, Vertiginous OMG!

Imbolc      Waning Wild Moon

The stomach has begun to return to normal.  Vertigo much less.

Got some pictures back from the retreat and noticed that my lips have taken on that old man’s coloring, a sort of liverish brownish red.  Goes great with the gray hair.

Off to the capitol for a noon lunch with the Sierra Club lobbyist and the chair of the Legislative Committee.  We’ll discuss my role as the guy in charge of legislative communications.  I also plan to sit in on a committee hearing at 3pm if my need for a nap doesn’t over power me.  (Let’s see.  Liverish lips, gray hair, needs naps, vertiginous. OMG!)

Gonna take my new netbook with me and join the crowds of under 40’s I see with their laptops everywhere.  When I went to the Jasmine last night for the Woolly meeting, the evening dinner crowd had gathered in the booths at the Bad Waitress.  5 booths along the window out of six had couples with food and a laptop each.  Most had their laptops on and were busy doing something.

It reminded me of the Arlo and Janis cartoon a couple of weeks ago.  Arlo and Janis both have cellphones to their ears and their land line rings.  Arlo says, “This is ridiculous.”  Yep.

A Locked Car Mystery

Imbolc    Waning Wild Moon

The Woolly’s met tonight at the Jasmine across from the Black Forest.  Food is noveau Vietnamese, French accents.  I had spring rolls and mangoes on sticky rice.  Just right.

Got to give everyone a head’s up on labyrinthitis.  Tom has a friend who visited him yesterday and may be dead from multiple myeloma in two months.  Whoa.  Paul and Sarah have purged their home, shined up and have neared the day of the first open house.  Changes.

Stefan locked the keys in his car while x-skiing at Hyland Park.  He asked a cop if he could help.  The cop said sure and gave Stefan a ride down.  When he got out to work on Stefan’s car, he inadvertently locked his keys inside as well as Stefan who was in the back seat.  In a police car.  A locksmith had to be called for both cars.

The trip in is always worth it, a chance to connect and renew the connection.  Got several happy birthdays.  Guys just don’t remember birthdays well.

Tilt-A-Whirl Day 3

Imbolc     Full Wild Moon

69 computers missing from nuclear weapons lab
by JOAN LOWY, Associated Press Writer Joan Lowy, Associated Press Writer – 2 hrs 5 mins ago

Nothing classified.  So they said.  What else would you say?

I’m now in day 2 after the tilt-a-whirl.  After sleeping last night, I swayed and so did the room when I got up.  Stomach flipped and flopped a bit.  My nap went by the way so I would not have to lie down and get back up.  As the day wore on, I began to feel better and better.

Tomorrow we see one of our financial advisers.  Later, Kate will give a very sweet quilt she conceived and managed.  It’s full of hearts written with messages for Dick, a colleague struggling with multiple myeloma.

Now, back to sleep and to reset my labyrinth to its whirl position.  Sigh.

The Tilt-A-Whirl and the Labyrinth

Imbolc    Full Wild Moon

When I woke up yesterday, my right eye began to jiggle back and forth.  The room began to sway.  OMG as the kid’s say.  I stumbled to the bathroom, hitting a painting on the wall.  My insides tried to come outside and a cold, clammy sweat broke out all over my body.  Yikes!

At first I thought.  Flu.  So I waited for everything to calm down.  Everything did not calm down.  That was I hollered for Kate.  “Kate!”

She came and took in what was going on.  “Smile for me.”  she said.  A peculiar response unless your spouse has a medical degree.  I smiled my most winning smile.  “That’s a test for stroke.”  Oh.  I passed.   Thank god.

“Where’s your blood pressure cuff?”  I keep one to take my pressure every now and then.  She got it.  122/62.  Strange for a guy with essential hypertension.  But good news to her.

She had me diagnosed.  Labyrinthitis.  A viral infection of the inner ear that plays havoc with balance.  Each time I moved my body put me into state I had experienced in full only once before.  That time came when I found myself in an airplane bathroom during  high turbulence.  The stewardesses though I was having a heart attack.  Hell, so did I.  But not Kate.  She got me a wheel chair, we got off the plane and waited until I calmed down.

This deal though did not allow the body to calm down.  I had one position that did not produce vertigo and nausea.  I stayed in for the whole day.

Kate got me some fancy anti-emetics that helped a lot.  She said it would lift in a day and it has.  I can move around now, but slowly.  And, oh, by the way she also said, “You can’t drive for six weeks.”  Six weeks!

Well, better grounded than dead, I always say.

One more piece:  the Jungian in me jumped at the chance to read the article on Jewish labyrinths in the new Parabola that came the same day.  More on that later.

Retirement Parties, Funerals, and Hospitals

Winter   Waxing Wild Moon (a wonderful thin crescent turned upward toward Venus, the bright evening star)

Went into Mary Broderick’s retirement party this afternoon.  A fine affair with the obligatory good noises and a gracious speech by Mary.

It seemed, though, a bit formulaic, a ritual with parts:  the buffet with an assortment of snack-like food, people milling around wondering how that one there knows our Mary, tables set out with small candles (though in this case they were small lights made to look like flickering table candles), a receiving line.  It was clear Mary moved these folks to good ends.

The flavor of the whole had a heavy dose of institutional Catholic.  The decor while updated (by Mary) had a non-ostentatious feel, but a studied one.  Mary mentioned the several Catholic organizations with whom  she worked, thanking them.  I wondered how someone of her vitality and intelligence could thrive within the often sclerotic bureaucracy of Catholicism.

It all had a Northeast flavor, the old Northeast, a Catholic immigrant neighborhood where caring for each other was the norm.  A mix of good will, old ways and downhome charm.

Weather Boring

Winter      New Moon (Wild)

The weather here has gone into a stable, cold pattern.  Just not very interesting.  No storms. No new snow.  No new ice.  No winds.  No warmth.  Some way below freezing cold, but been there done that this year.  It’s not been terrible for me because I don’t have to get out of the house and drive to work every day, fight the cold.  I’ve not even felt cabin fever set in and it usually does for me about now.  Must be the internet and substantial projects here at home.

Funny thing.  When I write about weather here, it’s more interesting than when I write on my Startribune weather blog.  When I get on the weather blog page, I feel the need to go all meteorological.  The comments I’ve gotten though have come when I’ve given a bit more commentary.  I just copied the paragraph above and stuck it in my latest post for the Trib.  Context matters.

Going into Minneapolis today for Mary Broderick’s retirement party.  Retirement parties, funerals, hospital visits.  That’s the golden years.