Inflation, Deflation, Stagnation, and Coffee - $2.25

--------- Forwarded message ---------
From: James Algiers
Date: Tue, May 15, 2012 at 3:27 PM
Subject: inflation,stagnation etc
To: Louis

Inflation, Deflation, Stagnation , and Coffee - $2.25

Dear Louie,

Over the past four years a group of “young men” in old body frames have met four to five mornings each week for coffee, tea, and conversation. Each morning is a free association conversation with a wide variety of themes; ample swings of emotions, and examples of tolerance, learning, and what at times passes for wisdom, but if the truth be recognized, are examples of partial thought recall and often staggering memory loss and confabulatory substitution.

During the years the location of the confab has changed, faces of the participants have changed, by addition and subtraction, but the nucleus has remained present and surprisingly friendly.  From four to eight older men of the community have met, attempted to flirt with the young, pleasant, waitresses who are pleasant, but most of all are tolerant.  Tolerant of the idiosyncrasies of the aging group and of the feeble attempts of flirtatious nature, ill in timing but obvious in intent. 

All are aware of the attempts to recapture the “moments of the past” and all recognize the pleasures of the present.  All depart, each morning, buoyed up in spirit and a bit more able to meet the day, and whatever the day might bring.

The participants are retired men of the community; men in their eighties and a few in their nineties; all wondering “just where has it gone” and why the problems of the present have the ring of the past. The spectrum of vocations of these “guys” of the past represent the professions, the doers of industry, agents of government, tradesmen of commerce, and financiers of the community. 

Industry is represented by a knowledgeable executive of a large industry, an executive who had risen from the ranks, from an initial job of being a telegrapher on the railroad in charge of the night time freight station in western Wisconsin; then having a few jobs  in mid Wisconsin and finally a position with a major corporation in Hartford - a national manufacturing concern where he served as a vice president. 

His knowledge serves as the connection of the group to the nuances of manufacturing practices and problems of national and international manufacturing. A resource which is constantly referred to and reinforced by return to the web for answers posed by lesser experienced members-- that is, by all the rest of the coffee table.

He has had a lasting effect on the group in setting an example of dedication to his wife in her long battle of multiple illnesses, but last week the battle was lost and now our association might be taxed as attempt to support him and to assist in the new world of widower.

Over the past year, another soul mate loss was documented and experienced.  The senior member of the group became a widower and to date the transition has been difficult.  His stories, vivid in detail of the past, of the World War 2 time spent in a prison of war camp in Northern Germany repetitiously entertained us when the “spirit” moved him to recall.  Recently, he has been reticent to recall the events, but most await him to, some morning recall the events.

With us as his friends and the waitresses in attention he will again hold us all spellbound as he recalls the stories of incarceration, illnesses,, fears and, finally freedom. He will also tell of arriving in the U.S., being shipped to a rehab camp and treated for hepatitis. Finally, he will recall the gradual return to full health and his return to society. The story has always intrigued the audience, and Joe the story teller has never failed to dramatically tell of the year long events of his incarceration.  He now being 90 years of age has more than adequately demonstrated his complete recovery; but the story lives on and again and again enthralls the audience.

However, the story tells nothing of the past year, when he again was “captured and imprisoned”.  This event was a year long, during which time he was literally incarcerated in his home caring for his wife, daily, week after week, as she battled her diseases of tumor which finally caused her slow lingering incapacitating demise.  He never failed her during the year long battle.  Now he is engaged in another form of captivity as he ages, becomes frail, and suffers from a form of captivity, a form with a Parkinsonian shuffling; a shuffle aided by a cane, a shuffle with a hesitant, wide based gait, a shuffle which might with each stride end in a fall, a fracture, an injury involving another incarceration and final release.

These are the observations of each day.  These observations prompt noisy word  exchanges; noisy arguments as only old men argue; accusatory, many topics, word substitution, loss of words and thoughts, but eventual finding of constructive ideas for more arguments. The strange outcome of word searching is that often finding an expression of thought produces more thoughts and finally the neurons adjust and the discussions become animated and provocative.

The most provocative member is also a widower, a retired dentist who has trained for monalogues over the years as he monotonously entertained his patients with stories, with unanswered questions, and finally dismissed them with the bill, always reasonable, but adequate for the times.  A most honest man, a most provocative man, and now a man searching for descriptors and adjectives, as we all do. 

Over the past year he has added to the understanding of chronic illness, a feature of each of the men; each of whom presents with diagnostic problems which for some time individually perplex the local physicians and the “circuit riders” who serve as consultants to our local clinics. He, our friend and ex dentist presented with a progressive condition which finally manifested itself as Myasthenia Gravis, and now with treatment allows our friend to function and maintain a certain level of freedom of action. A freedom to see his old friend, the widow, who she is remains unknown.

Over the past two years, a time when most of the gentlemen had various and sundry health problems, one member had a most serious health event. However, he was able to profit from modern surgical methods which successfully removed a growth from the main stem bronchial area of the right upper lobe.  A tumor in that area in the past would have required an open chest procedure, now was removed through a small incision and a tissue sparing procedure. Although he continues to fight the residuals of many cigarettes smoked with relish over the years, he is happy to be here and passes off the effects of COPD with innate charm and minimal complaint.  For many years he had sold the America’s automobile, the Chevrolets of Hartford, and his eyes still twinkle as he recalls the battles of the “discount” and other subterfuges of auto sales. Once a near scratch golfer he now suffers with the other ”duffers” of the group. And he still drives a General Motors; a Buick.

Our group is privileged to have two gentlemen of the cloth; a retired Methodist minister, and a Carmelite priest.  They too, are golfers, but have never been of the caliber of the auto dealer.  However, their mere presence has toned down the infrequent vociferous responses to debates of consequence which do occur. To date references of Wesley and the Methodist Hymnal rank parallel to Cardinal Dolan and his recent visit to “the Hill”.  Both of these gentlemen, are and have always been “Men of the Cloth” - true members of our local society and continue to encourage salvation of our souls.

The job is easier now when dealing with the members of our group as virtue is more easily practiced the ages of 75 to 90.  The Methodist minister continues to visit the sick at the hospital and the Carmelite priest continues hear confessions at Holy Hill;  never do they break the “seal of confession” - the righteous and others are safe with our friends. Virtue is sacred to them in all respects but one; they are not above a lift in the rough on the links or acceptance of a three foot putt, never a question. 

A true gentleman is the retired post man of the group and his liberal leanings are exposed by the conservative dentist; exposed sometimes with ridicule but not rancor.  Virtue is tried but never does the postman respond in like manner.  The “party” is defended but on occasion the liberal leanings are strained and we all believe that someday, somehow, he will recognize the value of tax reduction, and the value of a balanced national budget.  The recent trials of patience in Wisconsin politics has on occasion strained the atmosphere of the coffee but to date although the debates have had a bit of rancor all leave smiling and hopeful that tomorrow will bring a better political atmosphere; all hope, almost none believe that equanimity will be seen in the near future.

Occasionally his honor, the banker graces our assembly. With his sonorous voice he dominates the conversation, especially in debate over the proper time to tap the spring time maples. The debate still rages, and the old old timers maintain the wisdom of repetitive mistakes and lessons learned.

There have been interlopers, who have attended from time to  time; there is Bob the slow story teller with the lightning punch line; there is Terry of the many faces of romance, but primarily the basic cadre remains intact. 

And what of me?  I remain the slow thinking retired physician who so longs for Paying Consults instead of the present mode of payment;  ongoing friendship and friends.

Ya ya, Louie. Such is life.

Keep the Faith, my friend.

Jim