November 28, 2018 Article

Old Coots need old doctors.

By Merlin Lessler

Today’s doctors are smart, hip and well versed in the science of modern medicine. But, they’re not schooled in old coot medicine. Even those that specialize in geriatrics aren’t fully equipped for the task at hand. They know how a body is supposed to work. They just don’t know how an OLD body works, or how the inhabitants of these high mileage vehicles make it through the day. 

Take pain, as an example. When you have a young body, or even a middle age one, pain is a signal that something is wrong. If it persists you are advised to seek medical attention, which means a trip to the emergency room or a walk in clinic since you’re not getting in to see your regular doctor. I know. I used to try. Call in July and they’ll squeeze you in before the end of the year. The system is geared to treat healthy people, not the sick. So, off we go to the ER or a walk-in facility, both of which are staffed with new, young doctors just starting out, for the most part. “Describe the pain in your leg on a scale of one to ten,” they say. We don’t use a one to ten scale to describe pain. Ours is a three level scale: It stings – It hurts like heck – It’s killing me! But, that’s not the real issue. Young docs can transpose our old coot scale to their one-to-ten scale.

That’s easy, because it’s always a 10. Old guys go into a state of denial when a medical symptom emerges. We adopt a “wait and see” approach. Let it percolate for a while. We grew up this way. Run into the house after falling out of a tree when you were a kid and if a bone wasn’t sticking out, all you got was a Popsicle and told to go sit in the back yard and read a comic book. ERs should amass a team to treat old coots, like they do at the Mayo clinic. We wouldn’t be there unless it was something we couldn’t figure out and were at our wits end. 

The team should be led by an old doctor, who would know better than to ask if we’re having chest pains. Of course we’re having chest pains; we have multiple chest pains every day. Make a wrong move and something hurts. Often, it’s in the chest area. Any sudden move has an impact. If we twist to the left too fast, “Boing!” We get a chest pain, an arm ache and feel a little dizzy. Make a left turn in the car and there is a twinge in our neck. We thrive in a pain world, watching helplessly, as they race from limb to limb, torso to shoulder, head to toe. That’s why it’s so hard for us to describe what is going on when we get to the ER. But, an old doc on the staff would help with the issue. One who knows what it’s like to live in, and travel around in a worn out buggy of a body. He could distinguish between the everyday cascade of old coot pains and focus on the new one. Or, give us a Popsicle and sit us down with a comic book. I’d prefer an issue of Superman, one with a 10-cent price tab in the upper right corner of the cover.

Comments? Complaints? Send to mlessler7@gmail.com

November 21, 2018 Article

The Old Coot survives because of a memory cooperative.

By Merlin Lessler

I belong to a shared memory cooperative. Several, actually. One of the co-ops meets once a week, on the golf course: Tom, George, Don and myself. With weapons in hand, we attack the greenery and talk about old times. It’s definitely a co-op discussion, because this group has the least amount of firing neurons of all the groups I belong to. But, we get through most of our conversations with the correct names of people and places. Plus, we lie and our memories are so poor, the lies go undetected.

My high school fraternity, AZ of Binghamton Central High, has a reunion every other year, ending with a picnic at Endwell Greens Golf Course. The youngest guys are in their late 60’s. My section is the senior component, though we didn’t start out that way. The gathering turns into a “Talk about the good old days” festival! Loaded with blank spaces that the memory co-op quickly fills in. It’s also a conversation, rife with expletives’ like, “Wow! I haven’t thought of that in years!” or “I don’t remember that at all. Are you sure it was me who threw the egg that hit the new school principal on his first day?” But, enough members of the group do remember, so the teller’s information is confirmed.

Two other groups meet weekday mornings, one group, the northern co-op, alternates between Carol’s Art & Coffee Bar and the Owego Kitchen. The other, the southern co-op, gathers at Starbucks in Ormond Beach, Florida. We sit around sipping coffee and discussing topics of the day and reminiscing over past events. It’s a disjointed conversation because there is only the equivalent of one full memory between the whole bunch of us, the shared memory co-op. If you start to tell a story about something and get stuck on a person's name; no problem; someone in the cooperative will immediately supply the missing tidbit and the rest of the story is unveiled without a long pause.

My wife and I have our own small, shared memory cooperative. We constantly fill in the blanks for each other when a lost memory gets stuck on the proverbial, “Tip of the tongue.” And, we cheat too, thanks to the existence of Wikipedia with answers to questions like: “Is so and so still alive” (some Movie or TV star, usually)  – “How old is what’s-his-name?” – “Who starred in that movie show?” The Wick always comes through.I only have one memory issue at the moment, “Did I already write an article like this and get it published?” I don’t know. I can only hope my readers also require a shared memory cooperative to get through the day and won’t remember if I have.

Comments? Complaints? Send to mlessler7@gmail.com

November 14, 2018 Article

The Old Coot avoids long talkers. Sometimes.

By Merlin Lessler

We all have one or two of them in our lives: LONG TALKERS! If you don’t think you do, maybe it’s because you’re the long talker in your circle of friends and acquaintances. Long talkers go on and on and on. “How was the movie,” you naively ask. You don’t get a Siskel & Ebert thumbs up or thumbs down, you get a detailed, blow-by-blow replay of the whole film. A long talker will say, “The movie started with this big guy, Graham, who goes to Mars to find exotic minerals to bring his daughter out of a coma. “Mars,” you say to yourself. “This is going to be bad.” Character after character is introduced. Event after event. Soon, you are so confused you forgot what the long talker is even going on about. You desperately want to kick yourself for asking in the first place.

This is when you focus on an exit strategy. It starts with hope. You “hope” the long talker will get a phone call. But, when he does, you discover he doesn’t let it interrupt his “talk,” he ignores it and says, “I’ll get back to them later.” So, you “hope” some more, wishing your phone would ring. But, it doesn’t. Then, you look around and “hope” someone will walk in and interrupt the one-way conversation. But, nobody does. Hope rarely works! That’s when you’re forced to switch to the “lie” strategy: you look at your watch and say, “Oh my, it’s 9:15, I have to get going.” It doesn’t work. The long talker acts like you didn’t say anything and continues the marathon recitation. Three more tries, three more lies, until you finally break free. You add a fourth lie, “I’ll catch up with you later; I want to know how the movie turned out.”

As you hustle away, the long talker keeps at it, yelling out more of the movie’s plot. It gets you started on a long-term strategy, so you can avoid this situation, this person, in the future, by walking the other way when you spot him at a distance and installing an App on your phone that will make it ring when you squeeze it. And most important, you’ll have at the ready, a collection of lies to help you disengage from the clutches of a long talker, like a dentist appointment that you’re late for, or a kid waiting to be picked up. That sort of thing.

Short talkers can be just as frustrating. You know the ones, the strong silent type. They are perfectly comfortable standing next to you in total silence. You’re not. So, you try to engage them by asking a question, “Been doing anything exciting lately?” You get a quick, “No.” You try again, “This weather has been crazy, hasn’t it?” – “Yes,” is all you get. You keep at it but keep getting short yes & no responses. Sometimes just a shrug. You look around, hoping a long talker will come by, a perfect match for a short talker. But, it doesn’t happen. So, you lie and head for the restroom, hoping it has a window you can climb out. Long talkers and short talkers! Quite a challenge for us medium listeners.

Comments, complaints? Send to – mlessler7@gmail.com 

November 7, 2018 Article

The Old Coot is gunna! Probably. Maybe. Probably not.

By Merlin Lessler

“I’m gunna!” When you hear someone say this, you need to remind yourself,it’s probably a lie. When you or I say it, it’s most likely a lie too. It’s one of the most repeated lies in human history. We spray it around like those seeding machine the DOT uses to plant grass along the side of a newly completed stretch of roadway. The, “I’m gunna!” is the fertilizer component, pure horse manure.“I’m gunna start working out! I’m gunna read more and watch less TV. I’m gunna lose that gut”! Gunna, Gunna, Gunna. When you hear it come out of your mouth you should slap yourself “up-side” the head. I do this so often my head is lopsided, but it has helped me cut down on the “I’m gunnas.”

It’s hard to replace, “I’m gunna” with, “I am.” I AM on a diet. I AM working out three times a week. I AM reading more. But, that simple word exchange will change your life. Unfortunately, “gunna” is used too often by most of us. And, it comes home to roost later in life,when we replace it with, “I shudda.” I shudda taken courses at night school. I shudda learned to play the guitar. I shudda eaten healthier. I shudda. I shudda. I shudda. A world of regret, caused by a life time of, “I’m gunnas.”

We all do this, the “I’m gunna” thing, but it’s just a bad habit. If we recognize it for what it is, even just every once in a while, we can change our lifeand change future “I shuddas” into“I did.” It’s never too late. Even old coots like me have time to eliminate future “I shuddas.” I’ve been thinking of writing about this gunna thing for a year. I kept saying to myself, “I’m gunna write about how bad gunna,is.” That last slap “up-side” my head finally got my attention. Here it is! One less “I shudda” in my life.

Comments? Complaints? Send to – mlessler7@gmail.com

October 31, 2018 Article

The Old Coot can spot a snow job.

By Merlin Lessler

They just keep coming! On TV! On the radio! In newspapers and magazines! An endless stream of propaganda, promises, half-truths, outright LIES! No! No! No! I’m referring to the political ads that come at us ad-nauseum. I’m talking about the ads from billion-dollar corporations that have pulled a fast one on their customers and the public.

Take Wells Fargo, as a for instance. First, they took advantage of new customers, by signing them up (without their knowledge) for services they didn’t want nor asked for. (3,500,000 fake accounts). Many of these customers were charged thousands of dollars in fees, penalties and high interest rates. Some went bankrupt. Many, received miserable credit scores. When Wells Fargo got caught, the CEO and the executive staff pleaded ignorance, though they set the impossible goals. They threw their middle managers, supervisors and front-line line employees under the bus. Blamed them!

Eventually the truth came out and Wells Fargo was fined one billion dollars and ordered to make restitution to customers in the amount of $142 million. None of the senior executives went to the woodshed. Now, we are forced to endure their self-serving full page and two-page advertisements in major newspapers and magazines. And, to watch their Tv ads showing how clever Wells Fargo was when they transported gold in stagecoaches back in the 1800’s. The robbers got a safe full of rocks. The gold was hidden elsewhere and was saved. Implying, our money is safe if entrusted to Wells Fargo.

They all do this, the big corporations that misbehave and then lie about it until they get caught. Then comes the ads. “We slipped up.” – “We made a mistake.”  - “We didn’t know.” – “We’re sorry.” Blah, blah blah. Facebook lied. Did their customers wrong. Sold their data, didn’t protect their identities and now are sorry and making things right. LOL. Spectrum came to town, promised the moon and quietly raised rates and found new ways to charge us for stuff that once was free.

The truth, I discovered years ago, is the more they tell us how good they are, the more they lie. Unfortunately, I have to keep reminding myself that this is so. The ads are that good. These ad campaigns, these false image portrayals follow an old principle. “A lie told often enough becomes the truth,“ Vladimir Lenin. “A lie repeated enough seems truthful,” Joseph Goebbels. A little scary, isn’t it? 

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