We Are All at the Gold Tees

From: James Algiers

Subject: The Gold Tees

Date: March 10, 2015, at 8:46:40 AM CDT

To: Bob T

Bob,

A paper I gave a few years ago for a TV program on Hartford channel inspired this Letter to Louie and sort of sums it up: we are all at the Gold Tees. Best to you.   I hope these articles are not too boring; I have a ton of stories and will send them occasionally.  I wish you the very best; keep walking and watching the crowds from your penthouse in the sky.  

Jim  

Dear Louie,

As one ages, age becomes an accepted associate.  All or most of our actions are controlled by, modified, stimulated, or inhibited by advancing age and associated problems. Initially, we laugh about aches and pains, clumsiness of actions, or memory loss.  Later, we rue the day of aging and wonder where youth, or at least middle age, has gone.  We laugh at forgetfulness and silently curse the missed appointment. We recall days of full calendars but are happy with a day without ringing telephones.  Ribald jokes are replaced by stories related to the “blue pill”, and later functional incontinence becomes a reality, and a conversation item.  Age becomes a “back to reality,” and accommodations are made by self, partner, and friends. 

We adjust to aging and are happy to adjust as we look at the empty chairs, note the changing neighborhoods, and hesitate to visit the Care Centers.  Our actions are self-centered and protective. We admit to what we are doing but really are not proud of our actions -- actions such as not calling friends, not visiting friends, not speaking or confiding our thoughts and desires to the wife or the husband; we become moody and withdrawn and are really not nice people.  All because we fail to admit and accept the changes of aging. To admit to the inevitable body and mind deterioration. In this failure, we miss the true pleasure of aging.

Basically, age does have pleasures. The most basic pleasure is that to date we have not experienced our departure, we have not, appeared in the obits.  We are still “looking down at the grass, not up to the grass.”  The other day, a Thursday, a Men’s Day at the golf course, the first clear, warm Thursday in a month, a rite of spring or early summer was carried out.  Old friends greeted each other, hands were shaken with a little more warmth than in past years, eyes searched for contact, and true friendships were reestablished.  Some foursomes were changed, and empty spots were filled.  Stories were told, past episodes were embellished, and laughter was present. Truly, the “right of spring or summer” was reestablished, and for that moment, we were young again.  All present were happy to be there, genuinely happy to see friends from the past, a reunion of spirit, a moment fulfilled.  And the greatest thrill was a change in Tee boxes.

I had a great friend who had died a number of years ago.  He was a friend with whom I played golf almost every Thursday for ten or more years.  He aged gracefully, always kept busy, was competitive, and for the most was pleasant. He always maintained that after age sixty-five, all golfers lost five yards off the tee box annually.  He lived to be ninety-eight and died four days after he quit playing. That last Thursday, after he had dubbed his drive on number one tee, that was it; the clubs were placed in the bag, the bag in the trunk, and four days later, he died of acute leukemia. Only one week before, he purchased a new Buick - 128 miles on the odometer.  

But to get back to the important aspects of aging.  On a golf course, there are tee boxes and driving locations for the first shot on each hole.  Usually, there are blue stations, white stations, and red stations.  The red boxes are for women;  they are shorter and demand less distance on the drive.  According to my old friend, as distance is lost, one moves up from the long blues to the mid whites, but really never to the women’s red, not to the women’s tee box, maybe to the “forward tees.”  There are some psychological barriers to aging, especially in aging men!  Bifocals and hearing aids are acceptable.  Canes and modified sanitary pads are never discussed and rarely used, even though the need exists. However, one does not play from the women’s tee box!

The USGA (the United States Golf Association) has begun a subtle program to address the problem of shortened drives and higher scores in the aging male population.  There are a number of reasons for this.  Shortened drives mean higher scores, mean demeaning loss of ability, and mean that probably the Ladies t’s tees might or should be used. Cash for playing golf is available for many of the older male population. For those reasons, some effort should be made to regain and maintain ego status on the golf course.  What better solution than to have a fourth Tee box close to the women’s tee box but identified with another color?

  What better color than Gold Tee Boxes?

Tee boxes for the Golden Aged group are forward in location but not as short as the women’s tees. This has been accomplished at the local club and I can attest to the fact that for many the charm of the game has been rekindled, we now can again score in the forties for nine holes; a wonderful change in the game. This is a way to use the remaining skills and to maintain the dignity of aging without a transgender makeover.  That simple change in location and in the color of the Tee boxes is as important as the “blue pill.”

On the other hand, that simple change is one of the more important changes for the aging. Dignity is maintained, and aging and dignity should be inseparable as aging consumes.

Maintaining dignity as aging becomes a reality is often difficult. Either family members become condescending toward aging parents or ignore the problems associated with aging. Either seniors are ignored or are fawned over in restaurants, businesses, or family occasions. Sometimes, there is no middle ground of reality.  Seniors wonder just where they fit and how to maintain their status.

In a recent conference on aging, many somewhat contradictory ideas were discussed.  On the one hand, a speaker addressed the continual increase in the age of seniors and predicted the possibility of 125 years of longevity becoming a reality.  On the other hand, the condition and dependency of truly old people were discussed. The consensus was an appreciation of truly old people being a significant percentage of the population in the not-too-distant future.  However, that population must be as healthy as possible.  Age alone without health is of questionable benefit. 

Health in old age depends on three factors: genetics, habits, and gadgets.  Of the three, genetics seems the least controllable.  You either have the genes for longevity, or you do not. As of now, genetic control is fixed in inheritance. 

Habits have been shown to have dramatic effects on aging. Over the past generation, smoking and eating habits have changed, and along with the changes, health has improved and will continue to improve.  Habits are so important.  

Gadgets, too, have an importance. That importance might be demonstrated by looking at a crowd of senior citizens and considering the number of pacemakers, defibrillators, stents, and scars that might be found in the group.  These appliances and gadgets have extended the life span of many and are the most dramatic and functional of recent medical interventions.

Statins have dramatically affected heart disease and probably will be shown to have a beneficial effect in the future on Alzheimer’s disease. But as much as gadgets and habits extend, aging attitudes are important. The attitude to the prevention of accidents and illness is being emphasized, and the beneficial effects are encouraging.  Just a simple appreciation of the use of a cane can prevent falls, fractures, and deadly complications.  

The development of senior housing, with living quarters on one floor, handlebars in showers, and nonskid floors, and the elimination of scatter rugs have prevented falls and fractures and extended life and enjoyment.  Accidents have a way of altering lives; awareness of potential accidents should be followed by action of habit correction. However, this gets back to attitude, and as we age, attitudes are difficult to change.

It certainly seems that healthy aging is more than the color of the Tee Box.

Before closing, perhaps adjustment after the death of a spouse might be considered. Of all life’s changes, the loss of a partner, a wife, or a husband is perhaps the most devastating loss of life. Years of constant companionship, family, intimacy, successes, failures, and just living cannot be substituted by an empty house, a quiet kitchen, the creaking sounds of four a.m., all living so cold and so different.  Widowhood or widowerhood is emptiness of soul, mind, and habit.  However, gray hair, fallen arches, and uncontrolled flatus must be addressed, or the loss for all is doubled.

The cliche saying, “You cannot appreciate the loss until you go through it,” is not appropriate; that attitude only separates the widow or widower even more from family and friends. Here again, perhaps one must change the Tee Box and get into the swing of whatever remains in life. To appreciate living after death’s separation is to participate with old and often new acquaintances.

So Louie, tee up from the “Gold Tees,” and as always, Keep the Faith.

Jim