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Happy new year to you Amy! As a long-time reader/first time commenter, I was wondering your comments about a recent post, i.e. the post a few days ago about men not being interested in "insufferable bitches" and "speed dating snafus".
While I'm married now, I'd be interested in hearing your comments on these two books......
"For men only"..... and "For women only", both by shaunti feldhahn & her husband. They have both been hugely beneficial for my wife & I's relationship with a whole lot of "really's???!!!!".....
what are your thoughts (as a nationally syndicated author/columnist)?.
Cary
at January 1, 2008 4:57 AM
encourages married couples toward greater intimacy with God and each other.
Pulled this from her site. I haven't read the books, or even heard of them, perhaps because they have some kind of god focus. Pulled this off Amazon's search feature:
"I believe that through God's power, not our own, we can be transformed."
"We've seen the truth that God always provides."
"Each day your wife and mine hold out to us their God-given, little girl desire."
I see no evidence there's a god, so I find advice based in science and reason to be most useful, which is what I use in my column.
Best to ask questions like this by e-mail, but please feel free to post again -- on topic.
When I was a little girl, my great-grandmother was going moving though various stages of alzheimers (though back then, we just called it "senility"). She kept running away from the nice retirement home trying to get to our house. Eventually she ended up in a locked-down place like this. It was incredibly depressing to visit there.
By contrast, in 1998 my husband's grandfather ended up at the John French Alzheimer's facility in Los Alamitos and while they had similar security measures, they also had cheerful decor, constant activities and music, and managed to keep everything from smelling like urine. But yes, it was extremely expensive.
If I ever start down the path of senility I'll just borrow someone insulin for a few minutes while I'm still lucid
lujlp
at January 1, 2008 8:32 AM
For people with Alzheimer's and senile dementia, it's the disorder itself that is hell. My wife and I tended her mother through several years of senile dementia. Her body deteriorated at about the same rate her mind did, so she never was in real danger of wandering off. But we had to keep constant watch to see that she didn't fall down the stairs or let carbon monoxide into the house by opening the heating stove. And so on.
Every so often some oldster walks or drives away and gets lost. Sometimes such people turn up alive, sometimes not. One woman I knew locked herself out of her kitchen, couldn't figure out how to get back in or go to her next-door neighbor for help, and froze to death in her garage. My aunt's second husband, when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, had seen enough cases to know what was coming. So he borrowed a .22 rifle and shot himself.
I agree, Amy, that it's good to save dough now. However, those placards posted above that to our (currently) rational minds say "hell" may someday mean "refuge." The rent won't be cheap, but everyone concerned may find it worth the price.
On the other hand, some of us may decide to invest some of that dough in a firearm, just in case no one will lend us one when the time comes.
My wife's mother, Dolly, lived with us for the last four years of her life, while the poor old girl suffered from dementia. We ended up posting similar signs and notes all over the place -- just to remind her where things where and what to do when we weren't home. Of course, we had only limited success with these; like all signs, after a while they blend into the background and are no longer read. Dolly was often a real kick, however, as you can see here.
I, too, plan to check out with an overdose (although I wouldn't consider it an overdose, but a perfect dose) before the white spots take over the rest of the brain matter, if it comes to that.
Norm, that is a wonderful collection and a damned nice tribute. I liked this one: "History changes things."
This seems to be getting into end of life issues. Apologies if there has already been a complete discussion of the assisted suicide thing but as the boomers work their way through the demographic rungs, the issue is going to move to the forefront.
A favorite teacher of mine in HS observed that when he was a kid, he went to birthday parties; as a young adult he went to weddings and the occasional funeral; then just funerals. We lost my father-in-law suddenly a few years back. It was a death most of us should wish for. He was able to get around reasonably well and do most of the things he liked until the very last day.
When he went to the hospital with chest pains, nearly all of his children rushed to his bedside and those out of town called in distress only to hear him laugh off their concerns and assure them he was fine and sorry to have caused so much trouble.
The doctors explained that he had experienced an arythmia but that he would be fine for a man his age. His kids began to head home and promised to come back in the morning. And then pop, too proud accept help for such a thing, got up to use the bathroom and died from an aneurysm.
He got to see most of his family at the end; he was spared the drawn out misery of incapacity and, more for us than him, no one had to feel guilty that we might have done more to save him since he was surrounded by modern medical technology. It was his time and it could have been worse in so many ways.
To have found him with a gunshot wound to his temple, holding the pistol he had used to teach his sons to shoot would have been a cruelty to his family. I don't claim to have any answers but I think the needs of the surviving family should count for something.
martin
at January 1, 2008 10:33 AM
"I think the needs of the surviving family should count for something."
That's why I'd prefer an overdose with a DNR, but if I can't open the damn bottle...
Michelle
at January 1, 2008 11:24 AM
I'd like to go over Niagra Falls in a kayak when the moment comes...
eric
at January 1, 2008 12:18 PM
Reynolds had a post like this over the weekend too. At least it kinda seems like he did... He appeared to be linking a Lileks piece about old rock 'n rollers who now enjoy electronica. But the actual URL was to something so grim that it's unlikely to have been a linking accident. Rather than bring up such topics explicitly, some people prefer to just kinda leave 'em out on the coffee table and wait for their polite guests to get the point.
So anyway, Amy, if you or your photographer Gregg is trying to pass a message about something going on in the life of someone dear to you, you have our best wishes.
And Lujlp, when you have someone being cared for in a facility like that, the only thing more terrifying than knowing that they're imprisoned is the fear that they might get out. It's worth four signs on the door. For a few weeks, my aunt had a lojack on her ankle, like Lindsay Lohan had during probation. Her condition progressed rapidly and she lost curiosity about the world beyond the doors, so they soon removed it.
One of her facilities had a four-digit keypad code to open the door, and we were told that the number could be easily changed if any of the residents figured it out. None of them ever did... Or if they did, they couldn't remember it for the five seconds it would have taken to share it with a neighbor.
Norm's list is fabulous. My favorite is "Big lips sink ships."
Michelle, help me with my bottle before you swallow those things, DNR or no. Eric, kick over my barrel before climbing into your own.
BTW- I agree with Reynolds & Lileks [see later on his page] about how children who loved hard rock guitar grow up to be middle-aged people who enjoy chill/ambient/techno music. If you have 75 cents (or whatever it costs) and Itunes, go buy "Everything you do is a Balloon" from the Boards of Canada. Or anything from them. [BTW, they're from Scotland, not Toronto.])
Crid
at January 1, 2008 1:29 PM
Thanks for the kind words, Crid.
Agreed with Lileks piece (although steak isn't bad for you) -- at least on living in the now, which I do.
Nope. Not an old folks' home. That's the inside of the front door of Scientology's headquarters...
Don't miss cruxshadows.com . Especially the lyrics page. There's nothing like them.
Radwaste
at January 1, 2008 1:56 PM
Happy New Year, all.
Boards of Canada. Cool, Crid. I wouldn't have thought that sort of stuff to be your taste given your many rock and roll references.
I have done some research on memory and aging. We worked with a pool of a few hundred adults, which was small enough that you got to know them over time. It's tough when someone you've come to know as a smart, funny person starts to struggle with cognitive function. They're always acutely aware of it. I wouldn't want to face that, either, but it's a near certainty if you live long enough.
justin case
at January 1, 2008 3:31 PM
I want to die laughing, instead of the usual way.
Yes. This is exactly how I want to go (although I've told the children that when I get to be uncontrollable, they have my permission to take me out behind the dumpster and shoot me). If I haven't OD'd by then, that is. My grandpop died while teeing up his ball, 2nd hole I think it was. Had his one and only heart attack that morning. I wouldn't mind going that way (except I don't golf). His wife hung on for another 15 years, not knowing any of her children or grandchildren. The last time I saw her, she remembered me briefly, then asked where her dinner was. I think Dad was kinda relieved when she finally passed, but is afraid of what's going to happen to him. He's drinking too much and smoking like a fiend, but so far, he's still aware of everything, and he hasn't tried to eat a bullet. We're good for now. o_O
Flynne
at January 1, 2008 7:53 PM
I actually would really like to go out in a blaze of psychedelic euphoria. I dream of being sent on, on the wave of huge injection of LSD. Whatever circumstances surround it, will be what they are.
I should note however, that I am a very firm believer in proactively, assisted euthanasia. I would far prefer to have a little help from a healthcare professional, say if I were severely injured in a car accident, than to be forced to potentially suffer for lack of refused care.
I wouldn't necessarily object to a fatal shot of sodium morphate with my shot acid.
When I die, I want the first thought that goes through my girlfriends head to be, "Someone help get this pig off of me."
One thing I like about getting middle-aged is that you sometimes hear or read something wrong. Usually what you think is funnier than what really was. For instance, if you mix the words circumstances and circumcisions, you get things like, "John Wayne Bobbit was a victim of circumcisions beyond his control." It kinda brightens your day sometimes.
I don't think I would ever want to live with dementia or roll around helplessly in a wheelchair. But I must admit, I have wondered what it would be like to like to live with a woman who can actually forget something.
Bikerken
at January 2, 2008 12:46 AM
Old age scares the living bejebus out of me, no lie.
When I was 19, I said I wanted to die at 50 because I didn't ever want to be old. When I hit 40, I laughed at that youthful notion. Now I'm about to turn 50 (next month!) and I'm not so sure I was wrong to begin with. Okay, make it 60. Let me enjoy a few years of retirement first. (Being a state worker, I get a pension at 55.)
Honestly, as long as my mind is more or less sound and I can take care of myself -- take care of myself, not turn cartwheels or even disco like I used to and have taught my grandson to do -- life is cool. But when all that gives -- and my health is poor already, never was the best -- I want to just go quietly in my sleep but don't we all and wishing don't make it so. I hope I have the presence of mind in time to OD or something (the gun thing's a bit too grusome for me though it is surer) but there's no guarantee of that especially if the mind is going, especially as I tend to procrastinate going to the doctor even when I should because I hate it and don't trust modern medicine for spit.
Frankly, though I hope if I ever have a heart attack or a stroke (high risk, overweight, high blood and cholesterol, runs in both parents' families), I hope I'm not found in time and it takes me out. Don't relish trying to bounce back from either.
I do enjoy life but I've definitely no desire to live to be 100 and am damn glad I don't believe in eternal life. Sounds eternally dreary to me. Life is fun but everything would get as old and boring eventually as tag and hopscotch. Even new inventions would cease to thrill after a thousand years or so. One of my favorite quotes is from the original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, "I can't live forever and I don't really want to try."
Happy new year to you Amy! As a long-time reader/first time commenter, I was wondering your comments about a recent post, i.e. the post a few days ago about men not being interested in "insufferable bitches" and "speed dating snafus".
While I'm married now, I'd be interested in hearing your comments on these two books......
"For men only"..... and "For women only", both by shaunti feldhahn & her husband. They have both been hugely beneficial for my wife & I's relationship with a whole lot of "really's???!!!!".....
what are your thoughts (as a nationally syndicated author/columnist)?.
Cary at January 1, 2008 4:57 AM
encourages married couples toward greater intimacy with God and each other.
Pulled this from her site. I haven't read the books, or even heard of them, perhaps because they have some kind of god focus. Pulled this off Amazon's search feature:
"I believe that through God's power, not our own, we can be transformed."
"We've seen the truth that God always provides."
"Each day your wife and mine hold out to us their God-given, little girl desire."
I see no evidence there's a god, so I find advice based in science and reason to be most useful, which is what I use in my column.
Best to ask questions like this by e-mail, but please feel free to post again -- on topic.
Amy Alkon at January 1, 2008 6:48 AM
So was this pic from an old folks home or a menatl ward where people are too crazy or slow and might get crushed by the door?
lujlp at January 1, 2008 7:17 AM
Old folks' home. Sounds kind of like a mental ward, though -- much like real life -- which is why I posted it.
Amy Alkon at January 1, 2008 7:33 AM
That got to be hell, can you imagine living somewhere and everywhere you look there are signs warning your visitors you might try and esacpe
What kind of fucking mindgame are they playing?
lujlp at January 1, 2008 7:42 AM
That's why it's good to save your dough now. Stay out of hell in your old age as long as you can.
Amy Alkon at January 1, 2008 7:48 AM
When I was a little girl, my great-grandmother was going moving though various stages of alzheimers (though back then, we just called it "senility"). She kept running away from the nice retirement home trying to get to our house. Eventually she ended up in a locked-down place like this. It was incredibly depressing to visit there.
By contrast, in 1998 my husband's grandfather ended up at the John French Alzheimer's facility in Los Alamitos and while they had similar security measures, they also had cheerful decor, constant activities and music, and managed to keep everything from smelling like urine. But yes, it was extremely expensive.
deja pseu at January 1, 2008 8:25 AM
If I ever start down the path of senility I'll just borrow someone insulin for a few minutes while I'm still lucid
lujlp at January 1, 2008 8:32 AM
For people with Alzheimer's and senile dementia, it's the disorder itself that is hell. My wife and I tended her mother through several years of senile dementia. Her body deteriorated at about the same rate her mind did, so she never was in real danger of wandering off. But we had to keep constant watch to see that she didn't fall down the stairs or let carbon monoxide into the house by opening the heating stove. And so on.
Every so often some oldster walks or drives away and gets lost. Sometimes such people turn up alive, sometimes not. One woman I knew locked herself out of her kitchen, couldn't figure out how to get back in or go to her next-door neighbor for help, and froze to death in her garage. My aunt's second husband, when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, had seen enough cases to know what was coming. So he borrowed a .22 rifle and shot himself.
I agree, Amy, that it's good to save dough now. However, those placards posted above that to our (currently) rational minds say "hell" may someday mean "refuge." The rent won't be cheap, but everyone concerned may find it worth the price.
On the other hand, some of us may decide to invest some of that dough in a firearm, just in case no one will lend us one when the time comes.
Axman at January 1, 2008 9:06 AM
My wife's mother, Dolly, lived with us for the last four years of her life, while the poor old girl suffered from dementia. We ended up posting similar signs and notes all over the place -- just to remind her where things where and what to do when we weren't home. Of course, we had only limited success with these; like all signs, after a while they blend into the background and are no longer read. Dolly was often a real kick, however, as you can see here.
Norm at January 1, 2008 9:22 AM
I, too, plan to check out with an overdose (although I wouldn't consider it an overdose, but a perfect dose) before the white spots take over the rest of the brain matter, if it comes to that.
Amy Alkon at January 1, 2008 9:55 AM
Norm, liked this quote from Dolly:
Amy Alkon at January 1, 2008 10:00 AM
Norm, that is a wonderful collection and a damned nice tribute. I liked this one:
"History changes things."
This seems to be getting into end of life issues. Apologies if there has already been a complete discussion of the assisted suicide thing but as the boomers work their way through the demographic rungs, the issue is going to move to the forefront.
A favorite teacher of mine in HS observed that when he was a kid, he went to birthday parties; as a young adult he went to weddings and the occasional funeral; then just funerals. We lost my father-in-law suddenly a few years back. It was a death most of us should wish for. He was able to get around reasonably well and do most of the things he liked until the very last day.
When he went to the hospital with chest pains, nearly all of his children rushed to his bedside and those out of town called in distress only to hear him laugh off their concerns and assure them he was fine and sorry to have caused so much trouble.
The doctors explained that he had experienced an arythmia but that he would be fine for a man his age. His kids began to head home and promised to come back in the morning. And then pop, too proud accept help for such a thing, got up to use the bathroom and died from an aneurysm.
He got to see most of his family at the end; he was spared the drawn out misery of incapacity and, more for us than him, no one had to feel guilty that we might have done more to save him since he was surrounded by modern medical technology. It was his time and it could have been worse in so many ways.
To have found him with a gunshot wound to his temple, holding the pistol he had used to teach his sons to shoot would have been a cruelty to his family. I don't claim to have any answers but I think the needs of the surviving family should count for something.
martin at January 1, 2008 10:33 AM
"I think the needs of the surviving family should count for something."
That's why I'd prefer an overdose with a DNR, but if I can't open the damn bottle...
Michelle at January 1, 2008 11:24 AM
I'd like to go over Niagra Falls in a kayak when the moment comes...
eric at January 1, 2008 12:18 PM
Reynolds had a post like this over the weekend too. At least it kinda seems like he did... He appeared to be linking a Lileks piece about old rock 'n rollers who now enjoy electronica. But the actual URL was to something so grim that it's unlikely to have been a linking accident. Rather than bring up such topics explicitly, some people prefer to just kinda leave 'em out on the coffee table and wait for their polite guests to get the point.
So anyway, Amy, if you or your photographer Gregg is trying to pass a message about something going on in the life of someone dear to you, you have our best wishes.
And Lujlp, when you have someone being cared for in a facility like that, the only thing more terrifying than knowing that they're imprisoned is the fear that they might get out. It's worth four signs on the door. For a few weeks, my aunt had a lojack on her ankle, like Lindsay Lohan had during probation. Her condition progressed rapidly and she lost curiosity about the world beyond the doors, so they soon removed it.
One of her facilities had a four-digit keypad code to open the door, and we were told that the number could be easily changed if any of the residents figured it out. None of them ever did... Or if they did, they couldn't remember it for the five seconds it would have taken to share it with a neighbor.
Norm's list is fabulous. My favorite is "Big lips sink ships."
Michelle, help me with my bottle before you swallow those things, DNR or no. Eric, kick over my barrel before climbing into your own.
BTW- I agree with Reynolds & Lileks [see later on his page] about how children who loved hard rock guitar grow up to be middle-aged people who enjoy chill/ambient/techno music. If you have 75 cents (or whatever it costs) and Itunes, go buy "Everything you do is a Balloon" from the Boards of Canada. Or anything from them. [BTW, they're from Scotland, not Toronto.])
Crid at January 1, 2008 1:29 PM
Thanks for the kind words, Crid.
Agreed with Lileks piece (although steak isn't bad for you) -- at least on living in the now, which I do.
Amy Alkon at January 1, 2008 1:42 PM
Nope. Not an old folks' home. That's the inside of the front door of Scientology's headquarters...
Don't miss cruxshadows.com . Especially the lyrics page. There's nothing like them.
Radwaste at January 1, 2008 1:56 PM
Happy New Year, all.
Boards of Canada. Cool, Crid. I wouldn't have thought that sort of stuff to be your taste given your many rock and roll references.
I have done some research on memory and aging. We worked with a pool of a few hundred adults, which was small enough that you got to know them over time. It's tough when someone you've come to know as a smart, funny person starts to struggle with cognitive function. They're always acutely aware of it. I wouldn't want to face that, either, but it's a near certainty if you live long enough.
justin case at January 1, 2008 3:31 PM
I want to die laughing, instead of the usual way.
Yes. This is exactly how I want to go (although I've told the children that when I get to be uncontrollable, they have my permission to take me out behind the dumpster and shoot me). If I haven't OD'd by then, that is. My grandpop died while teeing up his ball, 2nd hole I think it was. Had his one and only heart attack that morning. I wouldn't mind going that way (except I don't golf). His wife hung on for another 15 years, not knowing any of her children or grandchildren. The last time I saw her, she remembered me briefly, then asked where her dinner was. I think Dad was kinda relieved when she finally passed, but is afraid of what's going to happen to him. He's drinking too much and smoking like a fiend, but so far, he's still aware of everything, and he hasn't tried to eat a bullet. We're good for now. o_O
Flynne at January 1, 2008 7:53 PM
I actually would really like to go out in a blaze of psychedelic euphoria. I dream of being sent on, on the wave of huge injection of LSD. Whatever circumstances surround it, will be what they are.
I should note however, that I am a very firm believer in proactively, assisted euthanasia. I would far prefer to have a little help from a healthcare professional, say if I were severely injured in a car accident, than to be forced to potentially suffer for lack of refused care.
I wouldn't necessarily object to a fatal shot of sodium morphate with my shot acid.
DuWayne at January 1, 2008 10:45 PM
You're a riotously fun guy, DuWayne.
Crid at January 1, 2008 10:53 PM
When I die, I want the first thought that goes through my girlfriends head to be, "Someone help get this pig off of me."
One thing I like about getting middle-aged is that you sometimes hear or read something wrong. Usually what you think is funnier than what really was. For instance, if you mix the words circumstances and circumcisions, you get things like, "John Wayne Bobbit was a victim of circumcisions beyond his control." It kinda brightens your day sometimes.
I don't think I would ever want to live with dementia or roll around helplessly in a wheelchair. But I must admit, I have wondered what it would be like to like to live with a woman who can actually forget something.
Bikerken at January 2, 2008 12:46 AM
Old age scares the living bejebus out of me, no lie.
When I was 19, I said I wanted to die at 50 because I didn't ever want to be old. When I hit 40, I laughed at that youthful notion. Now I'm about to turn 50 (next month!) and I'm not so sure I was wrong to begin with. Okay, make it 60. Let me enjoy a few years of retirement first. (Being a state worker, I get a pension at 55.)
Honestly, as long as my mind is more or less sound and I can take care of myself -- take care of myself, not turn cartwheels or even disco like I used to and have taught my grandson to do -- life is cool. But when all that gives -- and my health is poor already, never was the best -- I want to just go quietly in my sleep but don't we all and wishing don't make it so. I hope I have the presence of mind in time to OD or something (the gun thing's a bit too grusome for me though it is surer) but there's no guarantee of that especially if the mind is going, especially as I tend to procrastinate going to the doctor even when I should because I hate it and don't trust modern medicine for spit.
Frankly, though I hope if I ever have a heart attack or a stroke (high risk, overweight, high blood and cholesterol, runs in both parents' families), I hope I'm not found in time and it takes me out. Don't relish trying to bounce back from either.
I do enjoy life but I've definitely no desire to live to be 100 and am damn glad I don't believe in eternal life. Sounds eternally dreary to me. Life is fun but everything would get as old and boring eventually as tag and hopscotch. Even new inventions would cease to thrill after a thousand years or so. One of my favorite quotes is from the original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, "I can't live forever and I don't really want to try."
Donna at January 3, 2008 10:46 AM
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