I can tell you any number of places I’d want to be on a sunny, unexpectedly warm February afternoon, but sitting inside hashing out the future needs of aging East Tennesseans wouldn’t be one of them.
Yet there they were last Thursday. A group of close to 100 kind souls who cared enough to… well, care.
That day the John T. O’Connor Senior Center hosted a formal “needs assessment” process, where volunteers gave their input as to what Governor Bredesen and the bright minds over in Nashville could do to improve the quality of life for seniors all over East Tennessee.
It isn’t often that “the powers that be” take the time to listen to what we locals have to say. It was the state’s way of asking “How am I doin’?” as well as “Where do we go from here?”
Of course, no good deed goes unpunished – the volunteers had to sit through a few speeches before they could get down to business.
The first was from Knox County Mayor Mike Ragsdale, who cited recent successes with new senior centers in Halls, South Knoxville and Corryton. He bragged on the $6 million county-donated land for the new veterans nursing home and ongoing efforts to prosecute harshly those criminals preying on seniors.
Using private sector money, new state programs will be in put in place, like the Health Department’s “Dispensary of Hope,” a $1 million program providing prescription drugs to low-income folks. Ragsdale praised Thursday’s session, saying it would “create a roadmap to the future to ensure that senior needs are taken care of.”
Keynote speaker John Arriola, chair of the Tennessee Commission on Aging & Disability, reported that Bredesen will submit legislation to improve seniors’ independence, especially those with disabilities. Arriola said the bill enjoys support from state representatives and senators, partly because it utilizes a global budget including funding for nursing homes as well as all other state-funded senior needs. Less paperwork, more results!
Arriola reported that Bredesen’s goals for the passing of the legislation include a target of July 1, 2009, to have all the “major players” in place and that the needs assessment process will be a great first step in determining the direction of the bill.
Finally, the brainstorming began. Small groups, each with a facilitator, discussed their issues and priorities for local seniors, and then knocked around some solutions to these challenges. It’s important stuff: affordable medicine, transportation, volunteer services, home hospice. Stuff that may not affect you right now, but you never know – someday you might enjoy the fruits of their labor!
So now the hurdle is to transcribe, categorize, and otherwise make head or tail of the all their great ideas. The resulting report will be released in about seven weeks.
Participants will receive a copy of the report. To view a comprehensive summary of the report, check www.knoxcac.org or call 524-2786 to request a copy. You can help save the county some postage by requesting the report via e-mail at knoxooa@knoxcac.org.
And if you’re feeling guilty about missing this event, plan to attend the Roll-out Party for the new Knox County Senior Service Directory on Monday, March 12, at 8 a.m. at the O’Connor Center. It’s never too late to get out there and get involved!
Playlist:
1. Help Me – Joni Mitchell
2. Talk to me – Frank Sinatra
3. Take A Giant Step – The Monkees
4. The Right Thing To Do – Carly Simon
5. I Want to Hear What You Have Got To Say – The Subways
6. Hello It's Me – Todd Rundgren
7. Listen to Her Heart – Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
8. Tell Him – The Exciters
9. He Ain't Heavy... He's My Brother – The Holllies
10. When I Write The Book – Rockpile
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Waking Up Is Hard to Do
I like sleeping. I'm talking ten, eleven hours a night if I can get it. Maybe it's a sad commentary on my social life, but usually when someone asks me to go out with them at night, I say, "Nope. Sorry – I've got a date with the insides of my eyelids." And like all fantastic dates you've ever been on, the hardest part is when it's over.
Experts say sleeping is good for you, and doesn't that work out nicely for me! They say it helps your body cleanse itself of the day's stress, revitalizing your blood-cells and re-oxygenating your brain. For me, it just feels good!
Years ago I had a job that I had to be at by 6 a.m. This meant I had to turn in at about 8 p.m. every night – not a good way to fill up your dance card. Getting up was torture, and much as I enjoyed the work, it wasn't too long before I was updating my resumé.
If you ask me, the alarm clock is one of the most devious inventions known to Man, a Pandora's Box of regimentation. Waking up before your body is naturally inclined to is just plain wrong. It sets you up for all kinds of other unhealthy practices like commuting and working 40+ hours a week. And arising before the break of dawn is just unnatural. God invented the perfect wake-up call: sunrise. Why go against His divine plan and jump the gun on daybreak? It's inhuman, and in Emily's perfect world, no one would have to do it.
I guess I could be going too far in the other direction though, because every morning with the help of ear-plugs and black-out curtains, I rest happily in the arms of Morpheus until a) my dreams gently awaken me, or b) the cat gingerly extends an outstretched paw onto my face – not always with claws retracted. She knows and respects my morning sleep-in time, but a cat's gotta do what a cat's gotta do. We've worked out a compromise: every night she stakes out a spot on the bed and curls up fairly motionless until I stir, and I agree not to roll over onto her.
I'm here to tell you those black-out curtains can be dangerous; I try to remember to leave them open a few inches, or the next thing I know, it's noon out in the real world and I'm still sawing logs in the inky blackness of my comfy cocoon. But that's unusual for me. Most of the time, I'm up and around at the crack of ten.
I know it doesn't put me on anyone's Most Exciting People list, but I say, "now that's living!" I'm not a party animal, staying up until the wee hours every night. I just happen to be in touch with my circadian rhythm.
Speaking of dreams, morning ones are the best, aren't they? The wacky ones that have you doing the tango in your old elementary school washroom with your ex-fiancé while life-sized animated cut-outs of your boss and Mick Jagger look on. I tell you, it's a better cranial work-out than any pharmaceutical could provide, and there's no co-pay.
Right after a good morning sleep-in is the best time for creative ideas, the ones that hit you like a lightning-strike and have you really thinking outside the box. Maybe because all your tiny synapses have had time to recharge and make new and different neural connections. The trick at that point is to write down those brilliant thoughts and move on to the perhaps banal but nevertheless vital task of getting up and in turn, God willing, making a living.
If I occasionally over-sleep, well, it's one of the few vices I have left, unless you count a weakness for Shoney's breakfast bar. Now that's a good reason to get out of bed!
Playlist:
1. Sleeping In – The Postal Service
2. I Like to Sleep Late in the Morning – David Bromberg Band
3. Dream Dream Dream – Everly Brothers
4. You Can Close Your Eyes – James Taylor
5. Golden Slumbers – The Beatles
6. Dream – The Pied Pipers
7. Hung Upon a Dream – The Zombies
8. I Like Dreamin' – Kenny Nolan
9. When It's Sleepy Time Down South – Louis Armstrong
10. Oh, What a Beautiful Morning – Ray Charles
Experts say sleeping is good for you, and doesn't that work out nicely for me! They say it helps your body cleanse itself of the day's stress, revitalizing your blood-cells and re-oxygenating your brain. For me, it just feels good!
Years ago I had a job that I had to be at by 6 a.m. This meant I had to turn in at about 8 p.m. every night – not a good way to fill up your dance card. Getting up was torture, and much as I enjoyed the work, it wasn't too long before I was updating my resumé.
If you ask me, the alarm clock is one of the most devious inventions known to Man, a Pandora's Box of regimentation. Waking up before your body is naturally inclined to is just plain wrong. It sets you up for all kinds of other unhealthy practices like commuting and working 40+ hours a week. And arising before the break of dawn is just unnatural. God invented the perfect wake-up call: sunrise. Why go against His divine plan and jump the gun on daybreak? It's inhuman, and in Emily's perfect world, no one would have to do it.
I guess I could be going too far in the other direction though, because every morning with the help of ear-plugs and black-out curtains, I rest happily in the arms of Morpheus until a) my dreams gently awaken me, or b) the cat gingerly extends an outstretched paw onto my face – not always with claws retracted. She knows and respects my morning sleep-in time, but a cat's gotta do what a cat's gotta do. We've worked out a compromise: every night she stakes out a spot on the bed and curls up fairly motionless until I stir, and I agree not to roll over onto her.
I'm here to tell you those black-out curtains can be dangerous; I try to remember to leave them open a few inches, or the next thing I know, it's noon out in the real world and I'm still sawing logs in the inky blackness of my comfy cocoon. But that's unusual for me. Most of the time, I'm up and around at the crack of ten.
I know it doesn't put me on anyone's Most Exciting People list, but I say, "now that's living!" I'm not a party animal, staying up until the wee hours every night. I just happen to be in touch with my circadian rhythm.
Speaking of dreams, morning ones are the best, aren't they? The wacky ones that have you doing the tango in your old elementary school washroom with your ex-fiancé while life-sized animated cut-outs of your boss and Mick Jagger look on. I tell you, it's a better cranial work-out than any pharmaceutical could provide, and there's no co-pay.
Right after a good morning sleep-in is the best time for creative ideas, the ones that hit you like a lightning-strike and have you really thinking outside the box. Maybe because all your tiny synapses have had time to recharge and make new and different neural connections. The trick at that point is to write down those brilliant thoughts and move on to the perhaps banal but nevertheless vital task of getting up and in turn, God willing, making a living.
If I occasionally over-sleep, well, it's one of the few vices I have left, unless you count a weakness for Shoney's breakfast bar. Now that's a good reason to get out of bed!
Playlist:
1. Sleeping In – The Postal Service
2. I Like to Sleep Late in the Morning – David Bromberg Band
3. Dream Dream Dream – Everly Brothers
4. You Can Close Your Eyes – James Taylor
5. Golden Slumbers – The Beatles
6. Dream – The Pied Pipers
7. Hung Upon a Dream – The Zombies
8. I Like Dreamin' – Kenny Nolan
9. When It's Sleepy Time Down South – Louis Armstrong
10. Oh, What a Beautiful Morning – Ray Charles
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Past Imperfectly Perfect
There’s a certain managing editor at the Shopper-News who recently tipped me off to an old game show that’s re-run on the Game Show Network every morning at 3 a.m.: “What’s My Line?” I’ve programmed my Comcast digital video recorder to automatically record every episode while I sleep. I can then watch it at my convenience, usually the following evening.
Little did I know that I’d become completely hooked on this show! I’ve got it bad. Let me tell you why.
Games shows of the ’50s and early ’60s were the reality shows of their day. If you want to see the way real people looked and acted back then, here it is, encapsulated into a half-hour history lesson. I find it fascinating. You baby boomers out there may even remember seeing these shows the first time they aired!
If you’re not familiar with the “What’s My Line?” format, contestants answer “yes or no” questions so that a panel can determine their occupation. Ten “no” answers meant the player won the game. The prize? A now-paltry $50. Imagine someone today competing on a game show for even 10 times that! Nowadays, there always has to be more money, the chance of a grand prize, the possibility of getting the big bucks. The low prize amount on “What’s My Line?” was a novel idea: the money was secondary to the fun of just playing the game. And it’s quaintly low-tech; contestants sign in on a chalkboard, and when a point is earned, the moderator hand-flips over a cardboard sign. No laser-light show, no music blaring. Aaahhhh … can you hear me sighing nostalgically?
Refreshing, too, is the slow pacing of the show, which is in marked contrast to today’s “I need it yesterday” media deluge. There’s a sort of dignified grace to the way the people move, the way they finish thoughts before moving on to the next ones, and – most importantly – the style with which they articulate those thoughts.
Everyone on the show from members of congress to plumbers is refined and respectful. Some contestants may not have college educations, but they are still well-informed and capable of speaking clearly and coherently. Compare that to something current like “American Idol” – a show that’s about as subtle as a hand-grenade in a bowl of oatmeal. “What’s My Line?” proves that TV shows could be intelligent as well as entertaining. I really miss that!
Another thing I love about “What’s My Line?” is the panel, usually comprised of three regulars and a guest. The regulars include newspaper columnist Dorothy Kilgallen, actress Arlene Francis, and publisher Bennett Cerf, and they’re as personable, witty and erudite a group of folks as you could ever hope to find!
But look closely and you’ll see something else about those panelists that you wouldn’t see today. Take Arlene Francis, for instance. Right now, I’m watching a close-up shot of her, and I’m seeing something … what in the world? I’m not sure, but I think it may actually be … a wrinkle! A frown line, a laugh line, call it what you will. And her fellow panelists have equally normal qualities like non-plastic-surgery-type faces, receding hairlines and gaps in their teeth. Hallelujah! A program that shows the way people really look and doesn’t make an issue out of it!
Botox? Not on this show! Whitening strips? Never heard of ’em. Warts and all, these people held substance over style, and in so doing managed to maintain a true sense of style that went beyond the surface. They had class – naturally. And they aged – naturally. What a concept!
And whereas irony and insult now rule the airwaves, it’s nice to see lines delivered with kind regard and absolutely no guile. While I don’t advocate living in the past, can you blame me for escaping for a half hour or so into this kinder, gentler “alternate universe”?
Playlist:
1. Those Were The Days – Mary Hopkin
2. Games People Play – The Spinners
3. Imitation of Life – R.E.M.
4. Playing The Game – Gentle Giant
5. The Way Love Used To Be – The Kinks
6. Just the Way You Are – Billy Joel
7. Work 'n' Play – The Zombies
8. It's All In the Game – Tommy Edwards
9. For Free – Joni Mitchell
10. Even Better Than the Real Thing – U2
Little did I know that I’d become completely hooked on this show! I’ve got it bad. Let me tell you why.
Games shows of the ’50s and early ’60s were the reality shows of their day. If you want to see the way real people looked and acted back then, here it is, encapsulated into a half-hour history lesson. I find it fascinating. You baby boomers out there may even remember seeing these shows the first time they aired!
If you’re not familiar with the “What’s My Line?” format, contestants answer “yes or no” questions so that a panel can determine their occupation. Ten “no” answers meant the player won the game. The prize? A now-paltry $50. Imagine someone today competing on a game show for even 10 times that! Nowadays, there always has to be more money, the chance of a grand prize, the possibility of getting the big bucks. The low prize amount on “What’s My Line?” was a novel idea: the money was secondary to the fun of just playing the game. And it’s quaintly low-tech; contestants sign in on a chalkboard, and when a point is earned, the moderator hand-flips over a cardboard sign. No laser-light show, no music blaring. Aaahhhh … can you hear me sighing nostalgically?
Refreshing, too, is the slow pacing of the show, which is in marked contrast to today’s “I need it yesterday” media deluge. There’s a sort of dignified grace to the way the people move, the way they finish thoughts before moving on to the next ones, and – most importantly – the style with which they articulate those thoughts.
Everyone on the show from members of congress to plumbers is refined and respectful. Some contestants may not have college educations, but they are still well-informed and capable of speaking clearly and coherently. Compare that to something current like “American Idol” – a show that’s about as subtle as a hand-grenade in a bowl of oatmeal. “What’s My Line?” proves that TV shows could be intelligent as well as entertaining. I really miss that!
Another thing I love about “What’s My Line?” is the panel, usually comprised of three regulars and a guest. The regulars include newspaper columnist Dorothy Kilgallen, actress Arlene Francis, and publisher Bennett Cerf, and they’re as personable, witty and erudite a group of folks as you could ever hope to find!
But look closely and you’ll see something else about those panelists that you wouldn’t see today. Take Arlene Francis, for instance. Right now, I’m watching a close-up shot of her, and I’m seeing something … what in the world? I’m not sure, but I think it may actually be … a wrinkle! A frown line, a laugh line, call it what you will. And her fellow panelists have equally normal qualities like non-plastic-surgery-type faces, receding hairlines and gaps in their teeth. Hallelujah! A program that shows the way people really look and doesn’t make an issue out of it!
Botox? Not on this show! Whitening strips? Never heard of ’em. Warts and all, these people held substance over style, and in so doing managed to maintain a true sense of style that went beyond the surface. They had class – naturally. And they aged – naturally. What a concept!
And whereas irony and insult now rule the airwaves, it’s nice to see lines delivered with kind regard and absolutely no guile. While I don’t advocate living in the past, can you blame me for escaping for a half hour or so into this kinder, gentler “alternate universe”?
Playlist:
1. Those Were The Days – Mary Hopkin
2. Games People Play – The Spinners
3. Imitation of Life – R.E.M.
4. Playing The Game – Gentle Giant
5. The Way Love Used To Be – The Kinks
6. Just the Way You Are – Billy Joel
7. Work 'n' Play – The Zombies
8. It's All In the Game – Tommy Edwards
9. For Free – Joni Mitchell
10. Even Better Than the Real Thing – U2
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Heart and Mind
I think we’ve established that I’m a big whiner. I complain about needing to eat better and exercise, but so far it hasn’t translated into my doing anything about it! I can psych myself out ’til the cows come home.
But even this Queen of Denial couldn’t ignore some recent hints. Does something ever weigh heavily on your mind, you try to avoid it and then you find yourself running into reminders every time you turn around? Maybe it was my thoughts bouncing back to me in some dynamic universal ping-pong game, or maybe it’s the answer to a prayer. I think somebody up there was trying to kick my butt!
It started last week. I hadn’t been doing my usual 30-minute brisk walk. Not for a while. Let’s just say that the last time I got out and intentionally broke a good sweat just for the health of it, I shared the sidewalk with a bunch of trick-or-treaters.
Anyway, I got an e-mail about a woman who wanted to share her experience of having had a heart attack. Heart problems run in my family, and I’ve had some minor scares myself which turned out to be fixable. (The doctors said, “Don’t sweat the small stuff. Drink less coffee.” It worked.)
I stored that e-mail away in the same part of my brain where I put things like global warming, but apparently my subconscious was putting the fear of God into me. Alas, not yet to the point of action. ...
So last week I was lounging around the house, and I felt a sudden rise in my temperature on the inside, although my skin felt cold and clammy. I also felt light-headed, like my legs were disconnected, and my feet felt slightly tingly. Then I noticed my heart was racing. I flexed my fingers and toes, dreading the hallmark heart-attack symptom of one side becoming numb or paralyzed. So far I was OK on that one.
But I began to get more and more fearful that I was having “the big one.” And of course that made me increasingly scared – who do I call, is my insurance paid up, all those things you think about when it’s too late to do anything. Pretty soon I wasn’t sure what had come first: my physical feelings or thinking about it so much that I was freaking myself out!
For the next few days, I read some Internet articles (so you know they’re true!), talked to some friends and nailed down what I think was happening: a combination of too much caffeine (again – will I ever learn?!) and anemia from iron deficiency which was causing low blood-pressure.
I immediately lowered my caffeine intake and loaded up on iron-rich foods like potatoes, beef liver, oatmeal and leafy greens. Most importantly, I started walking again. I’ve even broken into a jog a few times. And do you know what? I feel better! No heart palpitations, no sudden dizziness. Equilibrium restored. There’s nothing like a brush with death, real or imagined, to get you back on the right track! Now if I can just keep it up ... Stay tuned!
Soapbox moment: Forget about your bubble butt, fitting into your clothes or looking good for your cousin’s wedding. It’s all about the ticker. Exercise now, and you’ll live to see your grandkid get married! The easiest way is to start walking. And women – Feb. 6 is National Wear Red Day to raise awareness of heart disease. Go to www.heart.org for info. Donate! Participate! Do it!
Playlist:
1. The Sloth – Phish
2. Death on Two Legs – Queen
3. God Trying to Get Your Attention – Keb' Mo'
4. When My Heart Beats Like a Hammer – B.B. King
5. You Gotta Move – The Rolling Stones
6. Walk Hard – John C. Reilly
7. Keep on Moving – Bob Marley & the Wailers
8. I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better – The Byrds
9. Young At Heart – Frank Sinatra
10. We Got The Beat – The Go-Go's
But even this Queen of Denial couldn’t ignore some recent hints. Does something ever weigh heavily on your mind, you try to avoid it and then you find yourself running into reminders every time you turn around? Maybe it was my thoughts bouncing back to me in some dynamic universal ping-pong game, or maybe it’s the answer to a prayer. I think somebody up there was trying to kick my butt!
It started last week. I hadn’t been doing my usual 30-minute brisk walk. Not for a while. Let’s just say that the last time I got out and intentionally broke a good sweat just for the health of it, I shared the sidewalk with a bunch of trick-or-treaters.
Anyway, I got an e-mail about a woman who wanted to share her experience of having had a heart attack. Heart problems run in my family, and I’ve had some minor scares myself which turned out to be fixable. (The doctors said, “Don’t sweat the small stuff. Drink less coffee.” It worked.)
I stored that e-mail away in the same part of my brain where I put things like global warming, but apparently my subconscious was putting the fear of God into me. Alas, not yet to the point of action. ...
So last week I was lounging around the house, and I felt a sudden rise in my temperature on the inside, although my skin felt cold and clammy. I also felt light-headed, like my legs were disconnected, and my feet felt slightly tingly. Then I noticed my heart was racing. I flexed my fingers and toes, dreading the hallmark heart-attack symptom of one side becoming numb or paralyzed. So far I was OK on that one.
But I began to get more and more fearful that I was having “the big one.” And of course that made me increasingly scared – who do I call, is my insurance paid up, all those things you think about when it’s too late to do anything. Pretty soon I wasn’t sure what had come first: my physical feelings or thinking about it so much that I was freaking myself out!
For the next few days, I read some Internet articles (so you know they’re true!), talked to some friends and nailed down what I think was happening: a combination of too much caffeine (again – will I ever learn?!) and anemia from iron deficiency which was causing low blood-pressure.
I immediately lowered my caffeine intake and loaded up on iron-rich foods like potatoes, beef liver, oatmeal and leafy greens. Most importantly, I started walking again. I’ve even broken into a jog a few times. And do you know what? I feel better! No heart palpitations, no sudden dizziness. Equilibrium restored. There’s nothing like a brush with death, real or imagined, to get you back on the right track! Now if I can just keep it up ... Stay tuned!
Soapbox moment: Forget about your bubble butt, fitting into your clothes or looking good for your cousin’s wedding. It’s all about the ticker. Exercise now, and you’ll live to see your grandkid get married! The easiest way is to start walking. And women – Feb. 6 is National Wear Red Day to raise awareness of heart disease. Go to www.heart.org for info. Donate! Participate! Do it!
Playlist:
1. The Sloth – Phish
2. Death on Two Legs – Queen
3. God Trying to Get Your Attention – Keb' Mo'
4. When My Heart Beats Like a Hammer – B.B. King
5. You Gotta Move – The Rolling Stones
6. Walk Hard – John C. Reilly
7. Keep on Moving – Bob Marley & the Wailers
8. I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better – The Byrds
9. Young At Heart – Frank Sinatra
10. We Got The Beat – The Go-Go's
