Recline Yourself, Resign Yourself, You're Through

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<http://www.nytimes.com/2005/04/13/opinion/13dowd.html?hp>

Recline Yourself, Resign Yourself, You're Through

By MAUREEN DOWD

 

Published: April 13, 2005

 

Baby boomers' almost comic fear of aging reminds me of that silent movie

scene in which Harold Lloyd hangs precariously from the hand of a giant

clock, literally pulling time from its moorings.

 

Despite the boomers' zealous attempts to stop time - with fitness and

anti-aging products, with cosmetic enhancements by needle, laser and

knife - time has caught up.

 

The deaths of iconic figures and the noisy debate over assisted suicide

have brought boomers face to face with their nemesis. " Suddenly, " The

New Republic observed, " we are all speculating about the feeding tubes

in our future. " Boomers want to control mortality so they're looking at

living wills, and legal and medical options.

 

I've visited the future, and it isn't pretty.

 

My mom fell and fractured her neck one night a couple of winters ago.

She was sent to a nursing home to recuperate. It was the third circle of

gloom. Residents sat around, zombie-like, or slowly maneuvered in

wheelchairs or with walkers. I suddenly understood why all of my mom's

friends who had gone into nursing homes had become listless and died

soon after. The facility was depressing, with bad food and impersonal

attendants who seemed inured to their surroundings.

 

It seemed like the sort of place people checked into but not out of. My

mom's hazel eyes were filled with dread, so I bought a sleeping bag at

the nearest R.E.I. and slept on the floor beside her bed for four weeks.

 

There were blizzards outside and lethargy inside. All through the night,

Alzheimer's patients would moan: " Help me! Why doesn't anyone come to

help me? " They were unable to remember the last time an attendant

stopped by. After a while, there didn't seem much point in getting

dressed. I put on one of my mom's extra-large flannel robes and some

slippers and started shuffling around the nursing home. I felt like one

of those cursed women in Grimm's fairy tales who turn into crones in a

blink. Soon the residents began acting as if I were one of them, just

one with better mobility. They would call out for me to fix them tea in

the microwave - " Just Sweet 'N Low, " one woman ordered briskly.

 

One night an elderly woman asked if I would come into her room and dial

her daughter's number for her. " I haven't heard from her in so long, "

she fretted. I called the number and left a message on the answering

machine: " Your mother misses you. "

 

As I hung up, the old woman looked up at me with big suspicious eyes.

" What are you doing in my room? " she demanded in a hostile voice. She

had forgotten me already.

 

Most nights, I watched two sweet-looking old ladies sneak down the hall

to purloin supplies at the nurses' station - cat burglars heisting

Depends.

 

In my old life, I read glossy catalogs from Bliss Spa and Bergdorf's.

Now I sat in the drab community room reading Dr. Leonard's " America's

Leading Discount Healthcare Catalogue, " which promotes the notion of

senior superheroes with vision-enhancing Eagle Eyes sunglasses; Sonic

Earz, to amplify sounds up to 60 feet away; and Frankie Avalon's Zero

Pain roll-on pain reliever.

 

It was upsetting to see how many body parts could go wrong. For $12.99,

you could get " heel wraps, " little slings to keep the cream on your heel

cracks; for $4.99, a straightener for overlapping toes; for $12.99, a

" control panty " to banish unflattering tummy bulge.

 

I told my mom about the control panty. She looked intrigued. " Who does

it control? " she wanted to know.

 

Why was I fighting aging so hard? It would be so easy to succumb. I

could stock up on everything I'd eventually need: extra-long easy-grip

scissors to clip toenails; the " button helper, " a wire loop to help

reach buttons; Toppik, the " amazing 30-second hair transplant, " which

sprays the scalp with color-matched hair fibers; a " Remember Me " poem

and photo mat for departed relatives, friends and pets; and the best

seller " Natural Cures 'They' Don't Want You to Know About. "

 

Dr. Leonard's assumes seniors have a healthy interest in sex. It offers

a device called an Eroscillator for women, with a guide from Dr. Ruth.

And for men, there's an aerobics video featuring " totally nude " young

women: " Because you can see the naked, well-toned bodies of the female

instructors, you can follow each exercise and see exactly how to achieve

the precise muscle extension and position. " Right.

 

Once Mom was sprung, I quickly went back to fending off mortality,

ordering the latest age-delaying moisture complexes from the Bliss

catalog.

 

But I know Dr. Leonard's is out there, waiting patiently for me. Not an

Appointment in Samarra, but an Appointment with the Eroscillator.

 

E-mail: liberties

--

 

 

Election 2004

The Triumph of the Swill

" The National Government will regard it as its first and foremost

duty to revive in the nation the spirit of unity and cooperation.

It will preserve and defend those basic principles on which our

nation has been built. It regards Christianity as the foundation

of our national morality, and the family as the basis of national

life. "

Adolph Hitler, My New World Order,

Proclamation to the German Nation

at Berlin, February 1, 1933

 

 

Not dead, in jail, or a slave? Thank a liberal!

Pay your taxes so the rich don't have to.

 

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