It's About Time!

Good Grief! It's been two months almost to the day since I last made entry in my blog, an undertaking I meant to assiduously compile at least once a week. But as they so often do in our irregular lives, something else happened. Actually, somethings else happened. Although it's only about 20 miles from where we used to live, our new digs are light years away from there.

We now live in a building specifically for seniors, in this case, men and women over 55, though there are several who passed 55 during the last millenium. This is an interesting state of being for me, as I never thought much about being a "senior." But I am one. I had my 68th birthday on 9/27/08, but my mind, that magical place inside our skulls, doesn't feel a day over 30.

There are some advantages to living in a place like this. First of all, there's an ongoing community with activities scheduled throughout the week, and the activities are varied enough so that one can find something to interest him or her. On the wall facing the elevators are the works of tenants who've taken advantage of an ongoing art class here. And I must say that some of the work is of high quality, and none of it is bad.

As most young people (when I was one), I had absolutely no concept of aging. Old folks were just there, wrinkly, grousing, spitting, smelly old people. They were hardly people as I viewed them through the selfish lenses of a teen or a twenty-something. They could never have been as young and hopeful and smart as I was. But they had been. Add to that the years and years of experiencing this old world, and you've got yourself a walking, talking history lesson if you'll take the time to ask about someone besides yourself.

Back in the mid-80s, I drove a taxi during the autumn of the year. I was in Florida, which certainly doesn't lack its share of seniors. And I made it a point to ask them about themselves, and they were only happy to reply and tell me of a different, often better, sometimes worse, time. What could I have known about going to theatre on the Broadway of the 30s and 40s? Some of these seniors had seen legends before they became legends, magical names I had only read about. It was always fun to get them to talk about their lives, and they needed only to be asked.

One important aspect of living as we do now is that we have a built-in community, at least as far as people in proximity. Of course, community requires human interaction and activity, and we have that in spades. We are also privy to a monthly newsletter which contains a calendar of events for the month, events varied enough for different tastes and interests. And I've always liked it when I've been in an area long enough for people to recognize my face, possibly even remember my name. This could very well be the last place I live; if it is, that's okay.

We're on the 18th floor of a 23 floor building, and we have a Minneapolis city skyline view, especially pretty as the daylight wanes and the city lights come up. We're very close to the city, which pleases me, as I've always delighted in city life. And I'm giving some thought to developing a course, too, on reading and/or writing poetry. Who knows what kind of fun I could stir up? For a saner person than I, it's difficult to explain just how relieved I feel to have this place to live. I had a terror of winter coming and our not having anywhere to go when the foreclosure on our condo was complete. It's as if a huge boulder was lifted off my shoulders and somebody smiled right at me. I like that.

There's one gross inequity here, however. Isn't that always the case? You think you've found the perfect place and WHAM! There it is. In the basement. A CANDY MACHINE! I'm powerless. . .and I succumb.