More Reflections on George

The other morning I was listening to Jimmy Durante, of all people, while I walked on my treadmill. His version of “As Time Goes By” is a classic and I love it even though his voice is, frankly, marginal at best. “You must remember this” Nora Ephron and I love it.

Well, it occurred to me that he and George Bush the second had a lot in common. Neither was particularly talented in a traditional sense but both were backed by good orchestras and great backup singers. And they were cutthroat in advancing their careers. They were endearing public figures in a way and beloved by those who thought them remarkable for rising to such a level with so little to go on. Plucky, very plucky, especially if your dad was already President.

More on drug addiction

Recently, the Cape newspaper mentioned that there had been a large number of break-ins into houses near my neighborhood. This was just after the same newspaper had run a week-long series on the large number of Cape young people who are addicted to Oxycodone and other prescription drugs.

One homeowner near me returned home and startled a kid searching his house for small electronics to steal and pawn to buy his drugs. That kid escaped ON HIS BICYCLE! According to the paper he was not caught.

Law enforcement is of the opinion that most crime, especially of this type, is related to drug addiction. There has got to be a better way to deal with this so the addicted can either get their drugs and/or get real treatment and avoid prison and the stealing can stop.

I don’t think hard drugs should be legalized and sold openly but I do think we could design a system where people got what they needed, drugs or real treatment, for a reasonable price without all the crime.

In the mean time, I will lock my door and my garage.

Time Share, Inc.

My late wife Martha liked time share vacations. She enjoyed planning in advance which is absolutely required to get anything out of this racket, she worked hard at her real job too, she was a real type-A person, and she needed time away. Time share forced her, us, to take actual vacations. These vacations took us away from the house, the boat, the grandkids, the shopping, washing, cleaning, fixing and cooking.

I am less of a planner. I don’t like recreational stuff with lots of complicated rules, extra fees, crabby and unresponsive employees. One of our time shares is a tenth share in a nearly always bankrupt resort on Hilton Head Island. It is actually a lovely spot and reasonably well maintained. I like going there. I ride my bike on the beach and swim every day.

Martha bought this second hand, maybe ten years ago. It is actually deeded property. I pay a maintenance fee for the weeks every year. So far everybody makes money except me. In September the management company sends this incredibly snotty six page letter explaining what I had better do and when, down to the minute, in order to be able to pay them this “maintenance” fee and use any of these weeks.

You would not believe the tone of this thing. The fall after Martha died I missed the deadline to call them to get in line to see if they might have a room for me at the inn. When daughter Jessica and I thought to discuss it later that fall and I called the resort the lady on the phone she was astonished I had the gall to expect to be able to stay there that next year.

I explained, in that case, I wouldn’t be forwarding the required “maintenance” fee by the date required and my daughter, the lawyer, would be in touch. The lady at the resort sighed a big sigh and suggested she would try her best to accommodate an idiot such as myself. Not surprisingly she did.

The next year I called on time and three minutes after the 12 noon deadline they answered my call and I was given number 64. I filled all the paperwork and again paid my bill. I enjoyed my visits as always.

Last year I forgot to call. What can I tell you? I’m a busy guy. Instead of calling when I remembered and talking to the time share ice princess I simply filled out the paperwork with the same priority number 64. Everything went through. I enjoyed my visits.

This year I was in Texas when I was required to call and I got the time difference confused so I was an hour late in calling. What can I tell you? I’m not very bright either. The lady on the phone suggested I give up all hope but when I insisted she give me my number she gave me priority number 63!

You have to admire some people and the rackets they run. I know I do.

Why don’t I do more things I know are good for me?

For many years I was the patient of a very strange cardiologist at Mass General. He would look at the EKG results, ask me the same list of questions and note the answers on a pad in front of him, physically examine me, comment to whatever resident was working with him that day (always along the lines of, “Can you even believe this guy is still kicking?”) and usher me out.

Now, I have a new cardiologist and she wants to give me advice. Thirty minutes on the treadmill is good but for two days a week forty-five minutes would be MUCH better. Do I simply walk on the treadmill? I attempt to describe the lurching, almost falling motion that encompasses attempting to run at my age and in my condition. She is unrelenting.

Starting with breakfast, describe what I eat in a typical day. More dark vegetables, more dark fruits, more SALAD, she states in a matter-of-fact way. I am beginning to think my mother has come back, not as a moose as I always thought, but as a cardiologist on Cape Cod. I say, “Yes, mother” without even thinking. She looks at me closely, her eyes just slits.

“Get with the program, fat boy”, she responds. Can I pick them or what!

Print magazines, don't you love them?

A guy told me a story once about how Alzheimer’s Disease was part of the Starbuck’s Coffee company’s marketing plan. They would put shops directly across the square from each other. Then some old buck would come out of one store, look across the street and think, “How about a cup of Joe?”

I think magazine subscription departments are involved in something similar. My magazine subscriptions all come due the first of the year. But I start getting dire warnings about the end of my subscription starting in June of each year. The tone of the message changes by August and suggests that I will be visited by an evil dominatrix if I don’t re-subscribe immediately. By October I am being told how awful it will be to go without any further issues of “Wine Enthusiast” if I don’t pay up today. I am offered datebooks, calendars, tote bags, personalized calculators, maps of the world and endless travel mugs to re-subscribe for years. Clearly, by December, I have suffered some type of memory dysfunction because I have not paid up, even though I actually sent the check in November.

In January and February I can re-join the preferred magazine reading group for far less money than I ever thought. Especially if I sign up for 40 years or so. And on and on. They must spend every dime of subscription income sending these endless offers. It got so confusing for an old man last year that I began receiving two issues of every “Better Homes & Gardens” each month. Apparently I re-subscribed twice.

Part of the problem is that these operations are located in third world countries at a great distance in time and space from the home offices of “Traditional Home” magazine. No one at the actual magazine knows a thing about my subscription and they are offended at the suggestion that they should. So the endless barrage of solicitations continues unabated. The print magazines lose money and go out of business.

By the way, if I do decide not to re-subscribe the magazine continues to come for months after the expiration date. How does that work to their advantage?

Your wild wolf notecards are enclosed!

I am far from a philanthropist but I do donate annually to causes I believe in, that I think are well run and that I hope truly serve an important purpose. I am biased toward local organizations serving local needs. I approve of organizations that use 90% or more of the donation for their primary purpose. I have always supported activities of member groups of local United Ways and the Rotary International Foundation, for example. I have sat upon several of their Boards of Directors over the years so I know what the needs are.

When I make a donation I feel like writing on the check, “That’s it for this year! Don’t waste my money asking for more money from me!” One of the ways I evaluate a charity is if, after a donation, I continue to get appeals for more money every month. They will drop from my list for next year this way. My donations are relatively small. Why waste them on mailings asking for more?

After Martha died, and with her earlier understanding, I made what were for us very large donations indeed to two organizations: one that had impacted my life in important ways and one that was very important in Martha’s and Jessica’s lives. In my letter to them I stressed that this was a one-time deal and that they should not waste their time and money asking for more. One of the organizations has followed my wishes exactly after sending a warm and personal thank you note. The other, a much larger organization with many professional development staffers, has tried hard but can’t seem to believe I might not want to do something even more generous.

National environmental organizations and international anti-poverty groups are the worse. Even though I dropped some of these groups from my list of charitable donations years ago I am still receiving personalized mailing stickers, calendars, note cards and more on a monthly basis. They are as bad as the circulation departments at magazines but don’t get me started on them!

The advice I was given as a young man was to just say thanks.