aging

GUYSIDE TAKEOVER: finding “aging” inside “changing”

Posted by Bob LeDrew on Jul 21, 2014 in aging, Guyside | 1 comment

FlashFree is all male this week! While Liz takes some time to enjoy herself, we’re going all-Guyside all the time. I hope regular readers can withstand the onslaught of testosterone. I promise not to post about cars and sports. Too much. — Bob. 

Living a long time is everyone’s goal. And the changes in our aging bodies can creep up on us, the way that you don’t notice a child growing up until he or she goes away for a time and then you look and realize “Wow, you’re six inches taller!”

There’s no doubt that you can do things to minimize the march of time. Some people swear by statin drugs as the magic pill to extend life. Others, like futurist Ray Kurzweil, are gobbling vitamins in large doses to ensure their survival to see the glorious future that awaits us all. Whatever your strategy, I’ve got a couple of ideas about this stuff I want to share.

First: maybe we need to do a personal inventory — physical, spiritual, emotional — at some regular interval. I know that if I were to chart my physical fitness from one year to the next over the last few years I’d see some significant swings, mostly based on how much cycling I’m doing. My emotional fitness too, depending on what things were happening in my life. For example, I’ve no doubt the year my dad died my emotional fitness would have been down. No wonder! For a while (until I emptied the bottle), I had a bottle of single-malt Scotch that only got opened once a year on my birthday. I’d have a birthday dram and scribble a note on the box to say what was happening when I had it. Maybe we should take a little time — on our birthday, perhaps, or New Year’s Day — and assess our selves. What’s changed since the last time? Where are we at in our lives? What would we like to see change over the next 12 months? Write it down, put it somewhere. If nothing else, it might be an interesting experience to read the previous entries.

Second, time is inevitably going to reduce our abilities. 20 years ago, I prided myself on my skills as a glutton. I can remember epic nights with friends where we’d eat countless chicken wings or endless slices of pizza or bottomless hot-fudge sundaes. That doesn’t happen now. I could survive on a couple of hours of sleep if I wanted to and never feel I needed to “catch up.” Not any more. Those are minor changes, compared to some of those I see my mom struggling with, but there’s one important lesson that I’m seeing. Those changes are quicksand, or they’re an undertow in the water. If you fight them, you exhaust yourself. If you remain calm, let them take you, and then gently push against them, you can regain some sense of control.

Third, we need to balance being done for and doing. I might not want to move house myself at this point in my life. My mom, for example, has difficulty with bending over and picking stuff up. It makes her breathing difficult. But she’s having a difficult time stopping herself from doing it. Her motivation is there but she’s unwilling to accept the limitations that her aging body is placing on her. It’s a complicated balance. For a child of a senior, part of you wants to see them taken care of and all their needs met, but I worry there’s a tipping point somewhere where the passion for self-reliance falls away.

And finally, there’s a value in finding and appreciating simple pleasures. A good meal, another person’s touch, sun on your face, a country drive — all of those things give my mom a good feeling. We could all learn a little about simply stopping and letting those things work on us, noticing them, appreciating them.

48 looks at 89

Posted by Bob LeDrew on Jul 16, 2014 in aging, Guyside, health, general, men | 2 comments

I’m spending some time with my mom as I write this Guyside column, and 89 from the perspective of nearly 48 has been making me think about lots of stuff around aging

Here’s a few thoughts, in more or less random order.

Technology

It’s really going to be interesting to find out if I deal with technology as I age. I suspect I’m at the start of the generation that has found it relatively easy to adapt to technology. Perhaps it’s just me, but I enjoy tackling technology and understanding new devices.

My mom is definitely not in that mindset. For her, managing the universal remote is about as much as she wants to take on, and even that isn’t necessarily a done deal, as my brother and I can attest from annoyed phone calls when the TV and the cable box are out of sync.

I wonder if I’m kidding myself on this, though. There was a time when I was on top of every pop cultural trend and thought I was quite the expert, but as I creep toward 50 I find myself more and more out of touch with the music that’s getting played on the radio – something I couldn’t have imagined happening. If that can happen, then who’s to say whether I’ll be wondering how this dang neural implant turns on in 25 years?

Media images of aging 

I tend to watch very different television shows from my mom; I don’t have cable TV; and I watch a lot of stuff on streaming services. So watching TV with her showed me a world of commercials for things I don’t spend a lot of time considering. Nutritional supplements, pharmaceuticals for arthritis or fibromyalgia, walk-in tubs and the like. What struck me about the ads was the idealization of aging that they showed. Sure, some people get to age with rugged good looks, dancing, hiking, driving convertibles in sunlit splendour, playing electric guitars, outsmarting their grandchildren.

But the affluence and the youthfulness of the people in commercials for products or services for seniors is as utterly mythical as a seductive babe stroking some guy’s freshly-shaved cheek or the girl who orders the magic drink catching the eye of the hunky bartender. It shouldn’t be news to anyone (I hope) that advertising sells perfect fantasies to people who live in imperfect reality. But it struck me that for many seniors, illness or lack of money must make such commercials a cruel slap in the face.

Independence

As an adult, I cherish my independence. But as an adult child of a senior, I see how easy it can be to wish my mom’s independence away. There’s a complicated and difficult balance between ensuring she has support when and where she wants it and removing her ability to control her life. And for the most part, as I see it, there are few hard-and-fast rules and lots of gray areas that have to be negotiated between people. Good will is absolutely necessary.

Death

I’ve faced up to my own illnesses, and in the last few years I’ve lost enough friends and family to consider death far more on my radar than it would have been 10 or 15 years ago. For my mom, who’s lost many friends, several siblings, and her husband, it’s much more direct. And while I think I have faced up to mortality with clear eyes, I wonder if a little denial is not such a bad thing.

Closing note: It’s a GUYSIDE TAKEOVER next week on FlashFree. The redoubtable Ms. Scherer is taking a little time off to have a lot of fun, so I’ll be posting, along with some special surprises. Stay tuned!

Aging & the double standard

Posted by Liz on Jul 14, 2014 in aging, appearance | 9 comments

Yesterday, a Facebook colleague posted a link to a Huff Post article that left me floored. Entitled “My Naked Truth,” writer Robin Korth discusses a recent relationship in which the man she was seeing, just 4 years shy of her 59 years, told her that he could not deal with her ‘wrinkly body’ and requested that she ‘hide’ in order to continue a sexual relationship. When she informed him that she no longer want to see him, he was both stunned and confused.

I would like to say that I have no words but it’s simply untrue. I have many words, most of which are unprintable. However, the piece provided the courage for me to openly share my recent experience on a dating site. I’ve been mired in work for the past half decade and have been running from the disappointment and hurt from my last relationship; in other words, I’ve not been seeing anyone nor have I had any interest in putting myself back out in the game. But this Spring brought a shift in priorities and in my life and with an open heart and halfway open mind, I decided that the time was now to have fun with a new man.

I have male friends in my life who constantly tell me that I am pretty; some go as far to claim that I am ‘hot,’ or ‘sexy.’ Those compliments are truly lovely. And yet, my foray into the world of online dating only brought to fore everything that is wrong with the way that many men my age consider women and how they consider themselves in relation to the partners they go after. For the most part — like Dave in Robin Korth’s piece — the men that I encountered seem to have blinders on. Mind you, I know a lot of men who are as self-deprecating about their aging looks as women are, but for every single one of these guys, I also know at least two who are clueless. The latter go after women half their age or at the very least, 10 years younger. And while I can certainly understand the attraction of supple skin, perky breasts and flawless, cellulite-free derrieres, I can also see what apparently they don’t see in themselves: sagging guts and receding hairlines. In my recent ‘dating’ foray, I was contacted by countless men who ignored what I wrote that I was seeking, men a good 10 years or more older than me, inactive men, men who, based on their notes, were short a few neurons in the intellect department. I received emails saying little more than how much my hair and eyes were appreciated. For all intents and purposes, I was rewarded with superficial, icing but no cake, whipped cream and nothing more. Needless to say, I promptly took down the profile.

When does the double-standard start and end? We live in a country where there are weekly reports of  high school or college athletes raping women, where insurance companies pay for men with erectile issues to get their hard(s)-on, where a women turns 50 and becomes invisible and where men of the very same age, men with big guts and lousy postures who get winded walking up a few stairs somehow become more attractive — at least to the few who, in the majority of cases, are only interested in their money and cache. Or, as Korth writes, men can’t deal with our bodies unless we are in the dark draped in protective gear that sucks in our flaws and also our souls in the process.

So, floored? Yes, and angry and absolutely puzzled how this happens and why many women continue to lead their lives counting wrinkles and flaws and opportunities that have dried up. And I am heartened by women like Korth who are willing to share their stories and still claim their bodies for what they are: wrinkled but beautiful, flawed but strong, every “imperfection a badge of living and giving of life.”

Here’s the rub, my rub: I liked the way I looked a lot better six years ago and was hardly as self critical as I am now. And, at the age of 53, I find lots of flaws; this despite working out daily and engaging in other physical activity. Time to end the double-standard. I think I’ll start right now. What about you?

Newsflash! Can you slow down your biological aging?

Posted by Liz on Jun 27, 2014 in aging | 0 comments

Researchers from King’s College in coordination with a European Union-funded project, EurHEALTHageing, are tracking biological aging by examining certain metabolites in the blood that they say act as ‘signposts’ for age-related diseases.

Consider this:

We age in two distinct ways. First, there is the aging by the calendar, so to speak, as we count the hours on the clock and the days and years in a calendar. However, there are also a host of diseases that can accelerate our clocks; this is what the researchers aim to focus on.

Granted, our genes play a huge role in aging, but the researchers explain that special chemical groupings that ‘cloak’ the genes can alter which specific genes are active at any given. This cloaking, known in scientific circles as ‘methylation’ is influenced by factors like diet, environment, exercise, pollution, etc and evidently affect whether or not we age faster or slower, healthy or not.

The ultimate goal is the ability to take a blood sample, analyze certain compounds and then determine the risks for developing certain diseases. Thereafter, there may be ways to counteract the biological process or at least, slow it down. Thus far, the researchers say that they have discovered 22 metabolites that are linked to age; and one in particular has caught their eye.

Meanwhile, take note: the Fountain of Youth might be ever so much closer!

Facing up to hair

Posted by Bob LeDrew on Jun 18, 2014 in aging, appearance, Guyside, men | 0 comments

Apparently, just as many mainstream outlets caught on to the fact that male “hipsters” had fully embraced the idea of thick, luxuriant beards, some researchers are suggesting that “peak beard” may have come and gone. For one beard-oil (yes, that’s a thing) entrepreneur in my city, this may be a tragedy (but given the usual lag in Ottawa catching trends, he’s probably got some time).

But it got me thinking about men and facial hair. I’m not sure we’ve ever lived in a more diverse era of facial hair than we do now — at least in my lifetime. In the 1950s, clean-shaven was the way to go. The sixties brought on long hair for men (with the exception, perhaps, of Merle Haggard or Jim Stafford) and the hippie era. Before I could grow my own facial hair, back in the 1970s, it was all about sideburns and mustaches for most men. Stars like Burt Reynolds, Frank Zappa, Tom Selleck (and even Cheech of Cheech and Chong!) were sporting serious ‘taches.

A photo from the 2012 World Beard Championships. CC-licenced by Flickr user: https://www.flickr.com/photos/rhymeswithsausage/

Then we got to the 80s and 90s, dark times for facial hair aficionados. Yes, Don Johnson brought us the “Miami Vice” look, which included oh-so-carefully coiffed stubble to go with that wrinkly linen jacket. But more of us were trying to figure out how much hairspray to use to get that Flock of Seagulls thing going than trying to figure out how to keep our beards up.

But now? Now, it’s a free-for-all. You’ve got your hipsters. You’ve got your neckbeards. You’ve got your ironic moustaches. You’ve got muttonchops (thanks, Wolverine). You’ve got “urban beardsmen.” There seems to be no “rules” anymore, except, of course, for those men for whom facial hair is part of religious practice (such as Sikhs).

So what’s a guy to do? Well, I’ve got a few rules that are nothing more than my own rules. I’ve had facial hair — either a beard or a goatee — for most of my life. I wear it … because I like it. I didn’t have anyone tell me it was best for my face type, or anything else (Well, my partner, who claims our relationship will end if I go barefaced). I usually keep it pretty neat and clean, because that’s what I like. I have some wee sideburns, but not too much; I don’t keep the goatee stuff too long, because I don’t like that. I keep the moustache quite close too, because one of the things I hate most in the world is having my moustache hairs get in my mouth. But that’s me.

Are there “rules?” Probably not. Use your own judgement. Unless you’ve got crappy judgement, in which case you should use someone else’s. Think about the world you inhabit. Are you a corporate lawyer? A full hipster beard is probably not gonna fly. Are you a bike mechanic? You’ll probably be fired if you DON’T have some sort of extreme facial hair (and multiple tattoos, but that’s another subject). I don’t want to be a downer, but sometimes individual choices can have consequences when they collide with the outside world. I like my facial hair well enough, but if it stood between me and my dream job, I’d consider letting it go.

Like most things in life, what you grow on your face is governed by what you like and what society likes. Find your own balance.

Aging parents, aging us

Posted by Bob LeDrew on Apr 16, 2014 in aging, Guyside, health, general, musings | 1 comment

Do different generations stay different? Do we replicate the patterns of our parents, or do we make different choices?

Like many people my age, I have aging parents. In my case, that’s a mom approaching her 90s with some medical challenges and the difficult adjustment of living alone for the first time in her adult life. It’s a struggle, and I think it has forced her and her two sons to face up to some uncomfortable truths over the last few years, particularly since my dad died in the summer of 2012.

One of those: how I will confront the inevitabilities of old age (if I am fortunate enough to get there). For my parents’ generation, it was common for parents to be taken care of by one or more of their children, either in the family home or by moving into a child’s home. There was (is?) a stigma about nursing homes and retirement homes. My mother has chosen to stick it out as long as is possible in her home, the home she was born in. But unlike her parents, she doesn’t have a child who will “take care of her.” I live a 90-minute flight away, my brother is six hours away by car. Thanks to my father’s service in the Second World War, she receives a number of services that have allowed her to stay in her house — the house her grandfather bought and had moved onto the property before the Great Depression — despite the encroachments of age on her body.

For people in my generation, the rules are a bit different. I have no children to rely on. I expect that any support that my partner or I will need as we age won’t be provided by family members, but by paying people from our retirement savings and investments. While I love our house, I think that when the time comes for us to retire I’ll be able to sell it and leave with no great emotional wrench; including our house, I’ve lived in about seven different places in my adult life, and I think I’ll be able to move again.

But things have been different for my generation for a while. Here I am, typing this in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with a graphic representation of Stephen King’s “Dark Tower” series. I never saw my dad with a pair jeans (what he would call dungarees) on or a t-shirt in my lifetime. My partner doesn’t wear housecoats like my mom does, or consider the maintenance of an immaculate home a key goal, as her mom and mine do. She works outside the home, while my mom gave up her job as a nurse in ’53, when she married, and never collected another paycheque.

We are — or at least I think we seem — “younger” than our parents at the same age. We go to concerts by loud bands, we dress differently, we participate in different recreational and sporting activities, we expect that our lives will be characterized by being and acting young for a long, long time. Thinking of Shakespeare’s seven ages, we’re unwilling to enter the fifth age, of justice and solemnity. We want to be lovers and soldiers forever.

So when we age, will we really be different from our parents? Will our expectations be different; will we make different choices? Or am I flattering myself by thinking that I’ll make other choices, better choices?

It’s easy to tell yourself that you know better than the “old folks.” But those better decisions and more logical choices are much easier to make in the world of the distant future than in the world of the cold present.

It seems to me that the real challenge for us all is to strike the constantly shifting balance between independence and dependence, between insulating our elders from danger and allowing them to live as they choose, between being determined and being bullheaded, between giving in and denying reality, between taking responsibility for our health and accepting support when offered. There’s no magic formula, no easy answer.

(photo: cc-licenced by Flickr user Lars Ploughmann)