I have gotten questions from several friends asking for more information as to why we moved to a retirement community, specifically a “continuing care retirement community” or CCRC, and how it is working out for us so far after a couple of months.

Here is my answer:

Last time I checked, we Homo sapiens—like all life on the planet Earth–have a beginning and an end. On average in the United States our allotted life spans are around 75 years though factors such as income, education, genes, race, gender, lifestyle, and luck affect the outcomes. It is also a fact of life that as we get older, we can’t do many of the things we used to be able to do. For some this is physical and for others it is mental, but we all slow down. And we all die. And there is great variety in how the checking out process works. For some it could be fast and quick like a heart attack or stroke. For others it could be a long, slow, and often painful slog. A continuing care retirement community provides one option that tries to make the most of the remaining years we humans have left by providing a support structure that allows people to get through the aging and checking out process, minimizing the pain and suffering that often accompanies it, along with enriching the time we have left. I call it squeezing the last drops out of the lemon.

The definition of a continuing care retirement community or CCRC (now also called a Life Plan community) is a senior living community that offers a continuum of living/care options under one roof or on the same campus—independent living, assisted living, and long term care. The concept, however, has evolved over time. When it was first “invented” in the early 1950s, it was called “life care” (started by the Pacific Homes of the Northwest, a Methodist group in California, followed soon after in Philadelphia by several Quaker life care communities), there were only two levels– independent living and long term care–but this has changed over the years due to government regulations  and a better understanding of the aging process. Long term nursing care, for example, has morphed into rehab due mainly to Medicare reimbursement regulations, which provide government financial support for up to 90 days for seniors coming out of the hospital. Also, in the early 1980s when it became evident that people who were in the natural aging process did not benefit from being in nursing homes with a hospital-like setting, assisted living emerged and became a popular alternative to the traditional nursing home. In addition, in the 1990s when it became evident that people who were physically in need of support did not mix well with people with dementia, the concept of “memory care” was invented. So today what distinguishes a CCRC from other retirement options like a Sunrise or other assisted living or residential senior living communities is providing a continuum of living options under one roof or on one campus—independent living, assisted living, memory care, and skilled nursing care, now often relabeled rehab. Some communities provide three levels of living/care on site with access to skilled care/rehab offsite, though monitored by the community. Collington falls into this category with arrangements with nearby private rehab facilities, where residents stay for up to 90 days following a hospitalization before returning to Collington. The concept of having the full support system in place distinguishes a CCRC from other options like assisted living or service enriched, independent living, senior living communities. Collington also has on site a full service geriatric medical practice, which is part of the Medstar system.

Most CCRCs require both an upfront fee called an entrance fee and a monthly fee which is adjusted annually based on the cost of providing services and care. There are all sorts of options regarding how  entrance fees work. The early entrance fees (called “founders fees”) were amortized over a five year period so that if you died after that period your estate did not receive a refund. Due to the high cost involved in developing, financing, and operating a CCRC, the entrance fees have increased considerably though the higher fees usually have a refund provision, refunding up to 90% of the initial amount.  Also, in some CCRCs (“Type A” communities), the monthly fee does not increase significantly  when you relocate to a higher level of care. There are also CCRCs which are coops or condos. These communities all provide meals, housekeeping, lots of activities, and scheduled transportation. (Usually, the cost of a daily dinner is included in the monthly fee as are the costs of these services.) The vast majority of CCRCs, like Collington, are not-for-profit communities.

Because of the high cost of developing and operating these communities (which are passed off to residents), the resident populations tend to be relatively well off financially, but certainly everyone is not rich. At Collington because of the wide range of living accommodations, there is a wide range of prices of entrance and monthly fees, and the Collington population seems to me to be, for the most part, solidly middle class–and also highly educated. Collington has a large library with several shelves displaying books by current residents and another entire section for books by former residents. (I proudly placed a copy of Hard Living on Clay Street and Civil Rights Journey in the current resident author section.)

The preferred retirement option for most people, of course, is remaining in their own homes. Moving is extremely stressful and costs money, and most people do not want to leave familiar neighborhoods where many old friends remain. The senior village movement got started a few decades ago to help seniors remain in their homes, and local senior villages provide activities, transportation, and fellowship for seniors. Some CCRCs now even offer “life care at home.” Most people will slog it out and take their chances, bringing in home health care aides or getting help from their children if they need it. While sticking it out is the option that most people follow, however, it often fails to address the challenges of loneliness and isolation; and if you need in-home care from aides, it can be extremely expensive though long term care insurance provides some cushion on the cost issue.

There is no silver bullet or right way or wrong way to manage the aging process, and there are pros and cons with all the options. Ironically, Embry was the prime motivator for our moving to Collington rather than me, even though I was the one with professional senior living experience. I think that the thought of having to take care of a cranky, aging old husband in a small apartment was too much for her, and she was right.

What struck me immediately upon moving to Collington was how many really old people there are here. Well, duh. It figures. Collington is approaching its 40^th anniversary, and someone moving in in 1986 at age 75 would be approaching 115 in 2025. While Collington does have some people over 100, a whole lot of people are  in their mid 80s to mid 90s. Since new residents coming in are typically in their late 70s, there are really two generations of old folks living here. Also, like all CCRCs, the vast majority are single, older women. Another “duh.” Men in the U.S. typically marry younger women, and women outlive men. That is just the way it is.  I was surprised by my initial reactions when I ventured into the community center and entered the main dining room the first time and looked around seeing so many people using walkers and canes, and some in wheelchairs. “Oh, my goodness,” I thought, “These people are really, really old! I am not one of them! I don’t belong here. I am too young.”

Then I heard the voice of the better angle in my brain, “Yes, you do, Joe. You are 83. You may not be as old as some, but you will be in a few years, if you are lucky, and by the way, you too now use a walking stick.”

Shame on me! Plus, over the two months we have lived here, I continue to be impressed with the energy, determination, wisdom, community engagement, and cheerfulness of those using walkers or are in wheelchairs–and others who are considerably older than me. They are an inspiration.

And yes, in a community this large with over 350 old folks, you are constantly reminded of the fact that our lives on the Earth are limited. There is a display area that posts every week or so the names and photographs of people who have recently passed away, and there are memorial services that regularly happen. But people take this in stride, and out of this I think comes a wisdom of how short, yet how miraculous life is, and how blessed the survivors are–those who have lived long enough to be in a CCRC– to have had our short time on this small, blue planet in a vast universe containing trillions of galaxies.

 

More to follow ….

When you move from DC to Maryland you need a new driver’s license and new tags for your car and have two months to do this. Naturally I have been putting off the chore, so this week, with only a few weeks to spare, I decided to go to the Maryland DMV to get the new tags and driver’s license. How hard could this be? Thousands of people probably move from DC to the Maryland suburbs every year. I went online to their website, read everything, and headed for the DMV, only a couple of miles away, carrying all the necessary documents– proof of identity, place of residence, evidence of car insurance and car title.

The line for customer service had about 50 people ahead of me, but since there were four agents behind windows answering questions, it was moving quickly. The huge office had something like 35 windows with agents helping customers who already had appointments. Scores of people were sitting in the lobby peering up at screens which showed the appointment number being called and the window to report to. The customer service line slowed down when one of the agents left for a lunch break, followed by another exit, but still in “only” 30 minutes I arrived at the desk for instructions. The first available appointment was in three days and I took it, then confirmed with the agent that I had with me all that was required– a passport, car title, DC driver’s license, and evidence of car insurance and asked if there was anything else I needed. She smiled, shook her head, saying I was in good shape, booked me, gave me an appointment sticker, and off I went back to Collington.

Three days later I arrived about a half hour before my scheduled appointment, checked in, confirmed my arrival at the appointment machine, and settled in on the first row staring up at the screen along with 50 or 60 other expectant customers. I remembered that this was the same facility I had been to years before when I took our Afghan refugee friend to get her drivers license (aided by a consultant/translator who answered every question for her.) Hey, if Mariam could get her drivers license without studying and with limited English language experience, certainly it would be easy for me to get a Maryland license, picturing that in an hour or so I would be driving back to Collington, smiling, with new Maryland tags and drivers license.

When my number popped up on the screen, I shuffled over to Window 25. Behind the glass wall was a small woman, wearing a covid mask, who greeted me with a slight accent, which sounded to me like she might have been from India.  The waiting room was  packed by this time, creating insufferable ambient noise, requiring me to ask her to repeat everything she said. With disgust in her voice, she shouted instructions to turn over all the required documents, which I proudly did—DC license, passport, car insurance, car title and two letters to me mailed to my Collington address —everything I thought I needed according to the website instructions plus more– a printout from Collington showing that I was current on my monthly fee.

“Where is your social security card?” she asked in a tone that was starting to sound hostile.

“I don’t have the card,” I replied. “In fact, I am 83 years old and have never been asked for it as far as I can remember. Not in my entire life.”

She scowled and continued looking through the other material.

“Well, without a social security card, you are not getting a license, but that is the least of it.”

“Excuse me? Why do I need a social security card to get a license?”

She did not respond to that question but followed by stating I needed to show two “proofs of identity.”

I pointed to my DC license and my passport.

“I am not able to accept either one since they do not show you live in Maryland.”

“Excuse me.”

“The big issue is that you do not have any definitive documents that show you live in Maryland.”

I pointed to the two letters addressed to me at my Collington address that were shown on the website as sufficient documentation.

“The letters addressed to you must be from a federal or state agency,” she snarled.

“Well, what about the printout from Collington showing that I am current on my monthly fee?”

“That is not sufficient. You have to provide the signed lease that you have for your apartment or a deed of trust showing you own your home. Period. No exceptions. It says so in my instructions. Now leave so I can help other customers.”

When I explained that I lived in a continuing care retirement community only a couple of miles away and that I did not have a lease or deed of trust but a “residency and care agreement” about 40 pages long, she shrugged her shoulders and scorned.

“Well,” she said “I do not know anything about a communal care community or whatever you call it, but if you do not show me a lease, you are not getting a Maryland drivers license or new tags. What is it that you do not understand about this? Now leave, and besides you also have to show  me a social security card. Until you can show me a formal signed lease—and it has to be the original, not a copy” — and can show me a social security card, no license. Now leave! And don’t even think about coming into this building without your social security card and a real lease.”

I sat there in stunned disbelief, then grabbed my cane and with hunched shoulders shuffled out the door toward my car, wallowing in self pity. But that did not last long. This is a declaration of war and I have a lot of weapons in my arsenal. Since this regrettable incident, I have meticulously studied the requirements on the DMV website and have learned that a social security card OR a 1099 social security tax statement is required–God only knows why–and I have one of those, plus I have had experiences like this before and plan to use my “I want to see your supervisor” routine, which if you keep demanding supervisors as you work your way up the corporate or governmental  ladder always gets results. Who knows, I might even get to the Governor of Maryland, who seems like a really nice guy.

So my next step is to arm myself  with the vast Collington  Residency and Care Agreement and enter the DMV prepared to fight to the finish. I am confident that I will eventually prevail. I will keep you posted.

 I know that some of you are asking the question, what is it about Joe Howell, that these kinds of things always tend to happen to him.

 I can only reply asking the same question, “Why Me, Oh Lord?”

To be continued….

 

 

Responding to complaints, I have changed the title of this series. The “Final Chapter” title had merit but was too heavy, and besides I will be interspersing life at Collington posts with other material, given the existential crisis our country is facing.

When  people have asked me what makes Collington different from other senior living communities, I have cited several things—that it has a beautiful campus including cottages, “villas,” and apartments, surrounded by a forest, yet is less than two miles away from a Metro station which provides 30-minute access to downtown DC, that it is one of the early non profit CCRCs with a long history of providing three levels of senior living including high quality supportive care for those who need it, that it has a strong value system stressing inclusion, that it is now a Kendal affiliate, and that there are a lot of interesting people who live here. And compared to many CCRCs in the area, it is more affordable and, in my opinion, a better value than most other options. Another reason that Embry and I  chose Collington, of course,  was that I did the initial market research and financial feasibility study for the proposed community and spent six years on the board (as treasurer) during a period of challenges in the early 2000s.

But that is not all. There is something else which I will call “the Collington Soul.”

Every week Collington puts out a calendar with the schedule for the week. There are all sorts of things to do every day—committee meetings, occasional concerts, Monday night movie, trips to the grocery store and museums and events downtown, all sorts of health activities, and various other gatherings. This past Friday afternoon there was a listing for “Game Day” in the auditorium. Since I am not much of an enthusiast for games, I thought I would give it a pass; but shortly after the 2:00 PM starting time, I decided I would wander down to the community center and peep in. When I opened the door, the large room was full of people mulling about, with soul and pop music blasting away, and one of the Collington food service staff was singing to a  karaoke song  on the stage in front of a huge high-def screen showing the words. It felt like I was at a carnival. All types of games were going on—corn hole, block building, bean bag tossing, tabletop bowling, and a whole bunch of other activities that were accessible to old folks.  There was a booth serving popcorn, another serving drinks, and another cotton candy—all free. But what made the event special was that the Collington staff were joyfully participating alongside the residents. Some were directing the games and others participating in them. Ann Gillespie, Collington’s CEO, was in the middle of it all, wandering about and encouraging participants. And the residents were mostly from the Creighton Center, Collington’s assisted living and memory care community. Of course, the staff were almost all people of color, mostly in their 20s and 30s, and most of the residents were old white folks in wheelchairs or using walkers. There were high fives, smiles, and hugs going around between and among staff and residents. Several of the staff were spectacular Karaoke singers and fabulous dancers, and the Collington workers seemed to be having as much fun as the residents—maybe even more. There were also a bunch of independent living residents like me there as well, observing and participating, and everyone was smiling. I only stayed about an hour, but that hour was precious and for a moment anyway seemed to bridge the barriers of race, class and age.

Who knows? Maybe events like this happen at other senior living communities. That it happened at Collington, however, is what counts for me. Bravo! Kudos to the staff and all those who made it happen. I understand that this was the first “game day” at Collington though Collington has had similar events in the past. I hope there will be more to follow. These kinds of activities are what illustrate what I call “the soul of Collington.”

 

Embry and I have always been city people, and I have what could be described as a “woke” superiority complex regarding the suburbs. I admit that this sounds like a snobbish prejudice and fess up to being the kind of person MAGAs can’t stand. You can blame my master’s studies at the UNC City Planning School for some of this, but part of it is admittedly old fashioned snobbery. Well, at Collington we now live in the suburbs. You wouldn’t know it because the beautiful campus is surrounded by a forest, preventing any view of suburban living. But when leaving the security gate at Collington you find you are in the middle of it—attractively designed homes but also very close to a gigantic shopping center with several big box stores.

Including a Costco.

Costco is only a five minute’s drive away. Now, I have never spent a dime at Costco and have only been in one of these massive stores two or three times. I remember being impressed by the tons of merchandise people were purchasing. You see people walking out of the store with 25 rolls of toilet paper, ten packages of 12 ounce water bottles, 30 rolls of paper towels, piles of other stuff that often require more than one huge grocery cart. Not for me. But if you know Embry, she is always looking for a bargain and the prices at Costco are cheap. She can’t help it. It is in her Calvinist, Presbyterian DNA. So, Embry joined Costco and has shopped there a few times. When I pointed out that we really didn’t need so many of this or that, she agreed but confessed that she couldn’t resist the low prices.

This week Embry went to Costco and ordered a huge birthday cake for a special occasion on Sunday at All Souls Episcopal Church—our rector’s birthday. The cake was to be a surprise and the centerpiece of what surely would be a splendid show of appreciation for the great job Mother Sara is doing. Saturday the cake was ready to be picked up; and since Embry had plans to go to a concert with friends, she asked me to pick up the cake at Costco’s and bring it to the church late in the day so that she could prepare for the surprise party on Sunday. I drove Embry to the Metro station only about 1.5 miles away and headed to Costco. The huge parking lot was jammed with cars, but I eventually found a space and joined a line of eager shoppers chomping at the bit to get in. Embry had given me her Costco card, which I scanned into a device at the door and headed toward the bakery. Before I could take more than a step or two, a tiny, older woman wearing a Costco red apron stepped in front of me and said, “I am sorry, but you can’t enter the building. This is your wife’s card.”

I replied that I understood that it was my wife’s card and that I was picking up a huge cake that she had ordered because she had a conflict. She needed the cake Saturday afternoon and had no way of getting to Costco, so I was helping her. I then took a step in the direction of the bakery about a half mile away at the back of the store.

The clerk stepped in front of me again.

“Oh, no you aren’t. This is your wife’s card, not yours. She has to be here. You can’t get in without her being with you unless you have your own card.”

“Excuse me,” I replied in a bewildered tone, “My wife has spent a fortune on this cake for a surprise birthday party and I have to bring it to her today. She is not available to pick it up, so I am helping her. You are telling me I am not even allowed to enter the store?”

The line behind me was starting to get edgy. One person shouted, “Stand aside, let us in! You are holding up the line!” Some big guy shouted, “Move it, old man!”

The Costco clerk guarding the gate asked me to move aside and allowed the eager shoppers to start scanning their Costco cards as they charged off into the vast space packed with people pushing carts loaded with food and merchandise. I explained to her the situation—that I had hardly ever been to a Costco store and did not know the rules and repeated the reason I was there.

With a sympathetic look, she replied, “Sorry, sir, no exceptions. I would like to help you, but these are the rules.”

“Just so I understand,” I replied in a disgusted voice, “No one is allowed to even enter a Costco store if they have not purchased a Costco card, and if you are a spouse of a card holder, that does not make any difference?”

“Exactly. No exceptions for any reason.”

When I demanded to see her supervisor, she shrugged her shoulders and shuffled off, cautioning, “Do not try to leave this spot. You could be in for real trouble.”

She asked another Costco lady in a red apron to take her place as guardian of the gate and returned a few minutes later with her supervisor, another woman, slightly younger. I told her my sad story and how desperate I was. She scowled, looked me over, sighed, shook her head in disgust, and allowed me to enter the store with the parting words, “Never, never try to do this again!”

I thanked her, grabbed one of the huge shopping carts and charged off toward the other end of the store, weaving through the isles packed with people pushing carts overflowing with bundles of toilet paper and other merchandise, passed by the counter selling pianos, the section selling giant TVs, some  so big I concluded  they would have to be hung on the side of a barn, giant bins of vegetables, some guy doing magic tricks in a section selling child’s toys, and finally reached the bakery. I told the clerk I was picking up a cake for “Howell” and observed a dozen or so carts stacked with giant birthday cakes waiting to be picked up, all looking exactly alike. Eventually she found the one marked “Howell” and off I charged with the cake to the checkout counter. There were a least a dozen people ahead of me in line with carts stacked high with merchandise, so I headed to the self-checkout area where there were few people and one young man standing around wearing a red apron. When I asked him for help, he asked for my Costco card.

“I am sorry,” he replied, staring at the card, “You can’t buy this cake. Your wife has to buy it. The card is in her name.”

“Pardon me,” I replied, “I have already been through this drill, and they finally let me in the store and now you are telling me that you won’t let me buy the cake and take it home?  The cake cost a fortune, and this is money going to Costco. The cake has a name on it that no one else can use. Are these people nuts? I have to have the cake today. There is no other option. This is for a surprise birthday party.”

I considered feigning a heart attack.

There was a long pause as the young man looked me over. When he realized I was at the point of tears, he looked over his shoulder to see if any Costco employee was watching. “Don’t tell anyone I helped you, ok? I will be in real trouble.”

I handed him my credit card, which was a Master Card, because earlier in the week I had gotten a call from my bank that someone was using my card number to buy questionable, expensive gifts online and had to cancel the card.

“I am sorry. Costco only takes Visa cards. You will have to return the cake.”

I told myself that this could not be happening.

I frantically pulled out my wallet and pulled out all my cards, desperately thumbing through them and pulled out a bank debit card, which miraculously had a Visa marking on it.

“Will this work?” I asked, holding my breath.

He scrutinized the card then nodded, put the card through and wished me a good day, warning me not to try a stunt like this again.

“Don’t worry,” I replied.

Only in America, I thought.

It has been well over a month since my last post and since we moved into our new digs at Collington.  A lot has happened during this time. Trump has shown his cards as to who he really is and what he wants. He is an obsessed, egotistical nutcase, who is well on the road to becoming a dictator, upsetting world economies and the post-World War II world order, and making life for so many people miserable. But you already know this, and this post is not about Trump.

I am BAAACK! And this post is about our move.

 What is Collington like for us? What about our experience so far?

Here are some first impressions:

1. The moving experience takes a toll. Moving is hard at any age but especially for old folks. In our case Collington required us—and I suspect everyone–to use a moving manager, which made all the difference. There is no way we could have pulled this off without the help of a firm that managed the entire process—Town and Country in our case—and they did a terrific job including hanging all our photographs and artwork. I think one of the factors which keeps people our age from moving is the challenge of downsizing—especially if the move is from a single family home. We had already downsized about ten years ago when we moved from our Cleveland Park, single family home to the Kennedy-Warren Apartments a few blocks away, but we still had to get rid of a bunch of stuff, and the experience wore us out. This is another reason for people our age to make the decision to move before the challenge becomes too great.  My main excuse for not blogging is that the moving experience has been exhausting and stressful and has taken a toll, but finally I am  recovered enough to get the blogging going again. When I talk to other residents about the stress of moving, most say something like, “Welcome to the club….”

2. The campus is gorgeous. There is no senior living community in the Washington metro area that comes close to the bucolic feel of Collington. It did not hurt that we moved in during the early spring with cherry blossoms and dogwoods in full bloom. But still where else in the Washington area–or practically anywhere else–will you find a community surrounded by towering trees, with meadows, landscaped courtyards, a small lake and three miles of walking and hiking trails—and still close to the downtown of a major metro area? (The Metro station is about a mile and a half away, and the trip to Metro Center takes about 30 minutes.) You won’t, and that is one of the main reasons we chose Collington. We have not been disappointed. I look out my home office window onto a large meadow surrounded by cottages linked by covered walkways. The cottages all have space for small gardens, most of which are beautiful. On the other side of the meadow are more cottages, most with patios and some with screened porches and sunrooms. Behind them is the perimeter road which surrounds the development on the campus and provides access to the community center with a large dining area, auditorium, library, bistro, bar, and meeting rooms. The apartments, the health care center, indoor swimming/lap pool and fitness center are adjacent. A small lake, home to a flock of Canada Geese, is behind the community building and apartments. On the other side of the perimeter road is the forest. There is no hint of any other development that is beyond the dense trees, so you have the feeling you are in some kind of Garden of Eden. Embry and I are city people, having lived some 50 plus years in a wonderful urban neighborhood near the zoo, so this is a change for us. Embry says she never envisioned living in a suburban neighborhood, but this feels like something different—a kind of fairy land. Of course, suburban neighborhoods are close by even though you can’t see them from the Collington campus. These neighborhoods are beautifully designed, high end neighborhoods with expensive homes. The residents are almost all African Americans, which in my view is a good thing, but I still bemoan the fact that so many of our neighborhoods in the U.S. remain segregated by race.

3. We love our cottage. Our cottage is perfect for us— about 1,400 sf and just a tad smaller than our Washington apartment—two bedrooms, two bathrooms, smallish kitchen, living room, den, sunroom, and outdoor patio looking out onto a large open area across from other cottages and a view of the surrounding woods. Our front door opens onto a beautifully landscaped grassy courtyard surrounded by other cottages in our cluster of 14 units. A covered walkway connects the cottages and provides covered access to the community center, about a five-minute walk away. In 1981 when I did the market analysis and feasibility study for the property, the concept of continuing care retirement communities was still in its infancy with not many CCRC’s on the East Coast. Since most of these communities were in the Philadelphia metro area, I spent a good bit of time visiting the CCRCs in Philadelphia, and I recommended that the design should be similar to that of Kendal at Longwood, a continuing care retirement community in the Philadelphia suburbs. The community which got built looks a lot like Kendal at Longwood. In the early 2000s Collington affiliated with the Kendal Corporation, an offshoot of the original Kendal community in the Philadelphia area. Full circle, as they say.
4. You feel a bit like a freshman entering college. Can you remember your first few weeks in college when you did not know anyone and all those who were in higher grades seemed well adjusted and you felt lost? The saving grace for college freshman is that since all the other freshmen classmates are just as lost as you are, you usually find other confused and lost people to bond with. And before too long you begin to make friends with those who are older and wiser and settle in. The main difference is that when you are a newbie at a senior living community, you probably are the only one moving in at the same time you are. So, yes, you feel a bit lost. For Embry and me the confusion and feeling of being lost has been softened by the friendliness of residents at Collington. Everyone nods and smiles and says hello. No exceptions as far as I can tell, at least not yet, and this makes a huge difference. And Collington has a system in place for easing the adjustment. We were assigned an “ambassador,” a very kind couple a tad older than us who have lived in our “cluster” of cottages for many years and whose job as an ambassador is to make us feel at home and welcomed. They have hosted us to dinner in the Collington dining room and introduced us to many of their friends. The week we arrived and after we got settled, our “cottage cluster” had one of its monthly pre-dinner socializing events, and we volunteered to host the group, which enabled us to meet most of the people living around us and show off our new home. That was a fun event though remembering names and keeping people straight will continue to be a challenge for a while. There will be a dinner next week for new residents, which happens on a regular basis depending on the number of move ins. That every resident has gone through the same experience we are going through I think makes people more understanding and supportive of newbies like us.
5. There are two generations of old folks living on the campus. Because of the large number of cottages (around 200, including a few even larger “villa” units), Collington has tended to appeal to a slightly younger population than most CCRCs. Average age for new residents is a little over 75 instead of the early 80s as is the case nationally, and there are more couples, around a third of all households. So, the age mix begins in the 70s and extends well up into the nineties, many of whom have lived here for well over a decade. That means you have “younger” seniors mixing with people who are old enough to be their parents. That also means you also see people using canes or walkers and some using electric wheelchairs. Before we moved, I remember being asked by some friends my age why I would consider moving into a community with a bunch of old folks. My reply was that at age 83 I am now an “old folk” (and like many here at Collington have started using a walking stick myself on longer walks). We old folks living here at Collington and other senior living communities are the survivors. But the experience of living with other people, some older and frailer than us, is also a reminder that we humans on the planet Earth do not live forever and the final checking out process is often messy and hard to navigate. That is the main reason cited by most of people I have talked to when I ask the question of why they chose a CCRC –the availability of health care and supportive services when that time comes.

But make no mistake: Collington is not a place where people come to die but rather to live life to the fullest, given the limitations associated with aging. Squeezing the last few drops out of the lemon, as I often say.

Stay tuned. More to come…

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Yes, it is true. We are moving to Collington, a continuing care retirement community (or a “CCRC,”  also called a “Life Plan” community), located in Prince Georges County, about ten miles away. For the last nine and a half years we have been living in the Kennedy-Warren, a huge, iconic, nine-story art deco apartment building overlooking the National Zoo and only a few blocks from our single family home on Macomb Street where we lived for over 45 years. We loved our Cleveland Park house and neighborhood, and we have loved living in the K-W where we have made many friends and have enjoyed a spacious apartment with spectacular views of the city (when the leaves are off the trees). We have been fortunate and are truly grateful. Given the troubled state of the world and our country, as the saying goes, we are the lucky ones.

So why move? Several people have asked me this question including some who are close to my age living in the K-W, which itself falls into the category of a “naturally occurring retirement community” (a “NORC.”) There is a delightful blend of young families, singles of all ages, and a whole bunch of old codgers living here, which makes for a vibrant community. I participate in an informal  group of 15-20 men, who gather every Wednesday to discuss the topics of the day. I would guess that at my ripe old age of soon-to-be 83 (on April fool’s day), I am not much above the median age. Most have had interesting, fulfilling careers, and there is not a single Trump supporter among us.

So why move? Even though I was the one who had a career in the retirement housing field, the impetus for moving now–and also for the move from our single family house–is Embry. In both instances in her calm but decisive way, she proclaimed, “Joe, it is time.”

But what does that mean? For our Macomb Street house, it meant getting away from climbing steep stairs, not having to tend a garden or maintain a house many decades older than us. For the K-W it means not having to prepare dinners (my job, by the way. I am a “Blue Apron” cook.) and more important, putting in place the health care support system that we suspect at least one of us–and probably both of us–may need at some point. We both are in good health for our age now, but the last time I checked we Homo sapiens have a beginning and an end to our lives on the planet Earth. My life expectancy when I was born was around 76 so I have already beaten the odds. However, even when adjusted for gender, class, race and income, I and everyone else my age who is still breathing is walking on thin ice. Something is going to do us in, and in many cases, the checking out process will be challenging and messy–not only for us but also for our children and grandchildren and those who love us. I have lost two “best friends,” my younger brother, Embry’s older brother, and at least a dozen other friends my age. 

Occasionally I scan through the obituaries in The Washington Post, and the ones drafted by the funeral homes often say the same thing: “So and so, surrounded by a loving family, died peacefully on….” Really? I don’t think so. Think about your own experience with your aging parents and grandparents or other loved ones. In the case of Embry’s mother and my father, being part of a continuing care retirement community made a positive difference for them and for us. In other words, making this decision is a gift to your children as well as to yourself.

But it is not just about the checking out process. It is also about squeezing the last drops out of the lemon. Well managed retirement communities, which have in place a full continuum of care are, for the most part, joyful places where old folks continue to live productive and fulfilling lives. I should know. Providing consulting assistance to these communities all over the country for over 25 years, I visited hundreds of these communities. I am a true believer. It is a difficult decision to move to a retirement community for most people for a variety of reasons, but most who do move to well managed CCRCs are glad they did, and so are their children. It is ironic that it was Embry that took the lead, not me, but I was an easy sell.

And why Collington? In 1981 I decided to go out on my own as a housing development consultant. The first assignment that I had after starting Howell Associates was to complete a market and financial feasibility study for a 125-acre property for a new seniors community to be called Collington. Over the years I provided occasional additional consulting assistance to Collington and in the early 2000s I served on Collington’s board for six years as treasurer. So, the short answer is I know the property and have a special place in my heart for it.

But that is not the only reason. What has always stood out about Collington are the residents that the community has attracted. They tend to be well educated, progressive, politically and civilly engaged, and for a retirement community, more diverse  than in most CCRCs. Part of this had to do with the initial planning. The community of almost 350 independent living units and 100 health care units has both cottages and apartments, which are clustered so that the larger, more expensive homes are located close to smaller, less expensive and more affordable ones diminishing social class or income barriers. Collington also made a big effort in the early years to reach out to the minority population and that effort has continued despite the anti DEI backlash across the country. Two other things impressed me when I was doing some consulting work for Collington in the early 2000s. The first was the large library run by residents where several shelves are reserved for books written by Collington residents. The second was a map with push pins showing the countries where residents had lived for a minimum of several months. At first glance the entire world map appeared to be covered with push pins. Over the years Collington has attracted a lot of retired military and especially retired State Department people along with people who love to travel. There are several other important reasons. The first is that since the early 2000s Collington has been a Kendal affiliate. Kendal represents the gold standard for not-for-profit CCRCs and coincidently was the model that I cited when recommending a development program for Collington in 1981. The Quaker values of Kendal are a good fit for the values of Collington’s residents and management, and the affiliation has enabled Collington to broaden its marketing efforts to people who are moving to Washington to be closer to their adult children and grandchildren and are looking for a Kendal community. Other reasons are that the residents are friendly and welcoming, and that the community is more affordable than most of the newer retirement communities. And the final reason is the exceptional marketing staff who alerted us initially to a terrific cottage becoming available soon and how they have supported us during the long move-in process.   

But how is it going to work out? What is life really like living in a CCRC? Will we be surprised or disappointed? That will be the story to follow–interspersed, of course, with other topics of interest like how Trump is destroying our country and other existential issues of the day– so stay tuned.

On March 26 the move happens.

 

 

Shortly after Trump got reelected way back when–all I can remember is that at the time it seemed like a horrific nightmare that upon awakening I thought I would soon forget–I recall going in for a routine checkup with my doctor when I was alerted that for the first time in my life my blood pressure was quite high and should be monitored. She gave me a prescription for meds and a clever blood pressure monitoring device that I am supposed to use every day to send the results directly over the internet to my health care provider. Normal blood pressure is supposed to be in the 110-120 range (systolic). For most of the time since the initial scare, with the meds my blood pressure has been in the 135-145 range, high but not fatal. By the time of the inauguration, however, my blood pressure had inched up again and on that woeful day registered over 200. Five alarm fire! I am now on a heavier dose of blood pressure meds and have given up booze except for special occasions, which thankfully occur frequently enough to cushion the hardship. It dropped back down for a while and then yesterday I checked again, and it was back up to 188. Another alarm! Embry’s orders: “You are not to watch any more MSNBC, read any articles in the newspaper about Trump, or watch any news except for the evening news on PBS, which is ok since you sleep through most of that anyway. Plus no more political blogging! I am going to send Trump a bill to cover your burial expenses if he ends up killing you!”

She is right. The current situation has gotten to me. I have to backoff, calm down, take a break. This will be my last political blog post–at least for a while. My next series will be called: “The Final Chapter: What It’s Like to Live in a ‘Life Plan’ Retirement Community.” In exactly one month we will be moving to Collington, the retirement community in suburban Maryland, which was the community that was the first assignment my fledging consulting firm did feasibility research for. That was 45 years ago–in 1981. Full circle, as they say.

So how worried should we be about Trump, Musk, and their radical agenda? The short answer is “very.” Of course, you know this. Everyone I know knows this. As far as I can tell everyone I know is terrified. My heart goes out to all those people in USAID who have lost their jobs, and in many cases their homes, and had their careers jolted. Those working overseas have been uprooted, having to pull their kids out of school and figure out what to do next. Even more tragic is what will happen to all the people they were helping, who desperately have depended on them for food, shelter and medicine. And this is just the beginning. Medicaid is on the chopping block, budgets of all federal agencies are being slashed, and good people are being laid off or fired in every agency. I was at a board meeting yesterday of one of the nonprofit, affordable housing corporations I belong to where we were warned that if the HUD money is sharply reduced or disappears–as appears likely–the hundreds of low income families we are serving in DC will end up back on the streets. Also many nonprofit organizations dependent on significant HUD funding will likely fail. Trump and Musk today announced that the HUD budget at a minimum would be slashed in half. No wonder my blood pressure has spiked again. Then there is the environment and the attack on all the environmental regulations that have been in place for years. If this is not a death knoll for life as we know it on the planet Earth, I don’t know what is. Add health care for poor people to the list. And income support for them. Instead, Trump and Musk are giving  tax breaks for the billionaires and tax increases for the middle class, the working class and the poor. Schools and educational support will be impacted. So will nutrition support for those living from paycheck to paycheck. And what about the outrageous cabinet appointments Trump has made? And if that is not enough, Trump is cozying up with Putin and showing signs of pulling out of NATO.

Lord have mercy!

And how is the Republican Party responding? With a couple of exceptions, Trump has the full support of every elected Republican official in the House and the Senate. They have become sycophants. Afraid of being “primaried out” by Musk, who has warned that if they do not fall in line, he will spend millions supporting a right wing, extremist opponent in their next election primary, they have caved. When Trump asks them to jump, their response is “how high.”

These are the times we find ourselves in. We knew it was going to be bad, but not this bad.

The existential question is will our democracy survive? The legislative guard rails have disappeared since Republicans control both the House and the Senate. It will come down to the Courts where the Republican appointed judges on the Supreme Court number six, at least two or three of whom fall into the sycophant category. The legal guardrails and the court system are all we have left standing between being a democratic republic or an authoritarian regime headed by an unhinged nutcase. We do not know what Trump will do when faced with a definitive court decision that prevents him from doing what he wants. The minute he tells the courts to stuff it and disobeys a binding decision, game over. Democracy has lost. Chalk up “the American Experiment” to history.

Some historians and those focusing on the Big Picture may take a more sanguine view and point out that nothing lasts forever. Great nations come and go. It was not all that long ago that the Greek Empire called the shots when the Greeks ruled the roost for about 600 years but eventually fell to the imperial Roman Empire, which lasted about 400 years. There was also the Ottoman Empire which lasted even longer, about 800 years, and the Brits, who were dominant for about 400 years and so it goes. The Mongols, the Spanish, the Russians, the Persians, the Egyptians, and the Chinese all had their time in the sun. Every great Empire has risen and fallen and ultimately come to an end, but life did not come to an end in those empires. Life changed but these countries morphed into something else, often for the better. Maybe it is just our time even though our world dominance did not really begin until after World War II. We have been Top Dog for only about 75 years. But, hey, things happen faster nowadays.

My concern is not so much about the United States. Many of our most vulnerable people will suffer under Trump, and that is a terrible thing, but eventually there will be a reckoning, and life will get better. We will stumble through this dark night of the soul though this does not necessarily translate to continuing to be the world’s dominant country. That honor will probably go to China or maybe eventually to India. Rather my concern is about the Planet Earth. What makes the times we are in now so different from everything which has preceded us are the two major threats that could alter life forever as we humans have known it. The first is the proliferation of nuclear weapons. One misjudgment or mistake or calculated action could end human life on the planet. The second, of course, is climate change and the inability of our small planet to continue to support a human population of the size of where we are now. There is a tipping point somewhere when there is very little that humans can do to alter the decline and demise of this beautiful blue planet, which we humans have trashed. Scientists warn us that we are edging closer to that point–just as our President is unravelling so many climate change initiatives. I suppose it comes down to the line from T.S. Elliot that the Earth does not end with a bang but a with whimper. Either way, the ending is not a happy one. In the few years I have left I am not concerned, but when I think of my grandchildren, and great grandchildren, and great, great….

This is it for woeful political stuff–at least for now. “The Final Chapter” starts next. Stay tuned.

 

 

From the Webster Dictionary: “Fascism : a populist political philosophy, movement, or regime  that exalts nation and often race above the individual, that is associated with an autocratic government headed by dictatorial leader, and that is characterized by severe economic and social regimentation and by forcible suppression of opposition.”

You may argue that we aren’t there yet, and that the definition does not apply to the Unites States. The key word here is “yet.”

Friends, we are surely headed in that direction. Trump’s lapdog vice president, Yale Law School graduate JD Vance, is arguing that the administration should ignore any action by a judge or court of law that prevents the Trump Administration from doing what it damn well pleases. The immediate issues are closing USAID, temporarily shutting off federal funding for most federal agencies, and firing career civil servants without cause. I don’t know what they teach at Yale Law School but suggest that Vance might have slept through his constitutional law class. What I learned as a history major at Davidson was that in the United States we have three equal branches of government, not a president with dictatorial powers, and that a system of checks and balances is key to preserving democracy. The next big test is whether Trump follows his vice president’s advice and tells the courts to stick it. Also coming up is birthright citizenship and Trump’s claim that it does not apply to children of undocumented parents despite the language in the Fourteenth Amendment. It will be interesting to see how the “originalists” Alito and Thomas get around that one. Surely most of these cases related to Trump’s presidential powers will end up in the Supreme Court, where the outcome remains unclear. Will the other “conservatives” other than Alito and Thomas fall in line with The Boss? There may be hope that Barrett and Roberts might join the three judges appointed by Democratic presidents, but who knows?

The third big issue will be the power of the purse. The U.S. Constitution gives Congress the right to pass laws and to spend or not to spend money–not the President of the United States. In the bizarre Trump world we live in now, Trump has authorized Elon Musk, a private citizen, to use his cadre of whiz kids to rip through previously secure government computer systems to radically cut costs and realign priorities. Their goal is to reduce domestic federal spending by at least a trillion dollars (down from the original goal of three trillion) while reducing taxes for the billionaire class. Will Trump be able to get away with this?

And what will Congress do? Well, we know that the House and Senate Republicans today almost to a person stand by their man. Is there anything that Trump will do which will cause any of the Republicans to oppose him? And they control both Houses of Congress. 

Some of Trump’s advisors have argued that it really does not make any difference anyway what the Supreme Court or the Congress does because the enforcement of laws is the responsibility of the executive branch. Trump will simply order his minions at the Justice Department and the FBI not to lift a finger. Nothing will happen to anyone who breaks the law on Trump’s behalf.

Is it overreacting to label what we see unfolding as an attempted fascist takeover of the world’s oldest functioning democracy? Is it wishful thinking to ask what we can do to prevent this from happening?

Well, I admit that the movie has not yet ended. Indeed, it is just getting started. But how it ends will depend on the American people and the resilience and courage of those who oppose Trump to rise to the occasion. What that means and how effective that will be will soon become evident as the Resistance builds. Pray that it will prevent the worst from happening.

 

Trump was sworn in just over two weeks ago. During this time Trump’s Shock and Awe Campaign has resulted in these actions: pardoning everyone involved in the January 6 Insurrection, appealing  to  over two million people who are civilian government employees to leave government to  be replaced by Trump loyalists and sycophants, firing top officials in the CIA and FBI, threatening to make Canada the 51^st state, using tariffs to bludgeon Mexico and Canada into falling into line with  his mostly unnamed demands, threatening to reclaim the Panama Canal, closing down USAID, threatening to force Denmark to sell  Greenland to the United States, proposing that the U.S. take over Gaza, replacing the demolished buildings with luxury resorts and hotels while shipping off the residents who remain to undisclosed locations, using Guantanamo as the first site for relocating undocumented immigrants while standing by his pledge to get rid of all 12 million undocumented people, threatening organizations involved in DEI or climate change initiatives, and empowering Elon Musk to use AI to radically reduce government spending across every agency. What have I missed? Oh yes, no trans people on girls’ sports teams anymore, criminal investigations of everyone involved in the numerous legal actions against him and pledging to radically reduce taxes for billionaires. Plus he has nominated the worst people for cabinet positions in the history of the Republic. And all this has happened in just 16 days. By tomorrow the list of horrific threats and actions by Trump will surely be even longer.

In the meantime, while Democrats are shell shocked, Republican senators and congressmen are standing by their man, terrified as to what might happen if they do not fall in line. Any elected official who opposes Trump is fearful of being “primaried out” in the next election with massive financial support provided to their opponents by Musk and his billionaire and techbro friends.  And Republicans control all branches of government including the Supreme Court where at least four judges (Alito, Thomas, Kavanaugh, and Gorsuch) will never let Trump down.

Can all this really be happening?

The fundamental questions are whether there are any guardrails left and will they hold. For the first time in my long life of (almost) 83 years, this is the first time that pundits are pondering whether this may mark the end of our democracy as we have known it.

Fasten your seatbelts. It is probably going to get worse before it gets better. Keep the faith that it will get better and do what you can to make a difference: give money to organizations like the ACLU and CASA who support immigrants, support Democrats who will be running in two years, speak out, write to your elected officials to oppose these outrageous actions, and when the opportunity comes, join peaceful demonstrations. Have faith that we will get through this.

The George W. Bush “Shock and Awe” invasion of Iraq in 2003, which was initially hailed as a huge success, turned out to be the opposite. Bush’s approach left no room for followers of Saddam Hussein to remain in the government to help stabilize the divided country, facilitated a decades long insurgency, and created instability in the Middle East, which persists to this day. Furthermore, the pretext of weapons of mass destruction turned out to be a lie. The Shock and Awe invasion was a disaster.

Trump unleashed his own Shock and Awe initiative this week, this one on the American people. Following the instructions of the Project 2025 playbook, a week following Inauguration Day, Trump ordered an indefinite freeze on most federal spending. But wait! The next day the order was rescinded. The initial announcement, which targeted all spending except Medicare and Social Security, sent immediate shockwaves throughout the economy and the country. Still, damage was done. Do Trump’s people have any idea as to what they are doing?

 Make no mistake, however. More is to come. Deporting undocumented immigrants is first on the list. His press secretary boldly announced yesterday that Trump considers any immigrant without proper papers a criminal. Today the Trump Administration announced that Guantanamo would be expanded to accommodate the first wave of deportees. There are an estimated 12 million people who are undocumented, the vast majority being law abiding, hardworking people, who pay taxes. Many industries depend on them to do the heavy lifting and work Americans do not want to do–farm laborers, construction workers, hospitality and restaurant workers, and many others. Rumors are that Trump has already worked out a deal with the private prison companies to build massive concentration camps across the country. If Trump carries through on this, he will initiate a reign of terror, separate more families, cause irreparable pain and suffering, deplete the work force, and trigger high inflation.

The federal defunding announcement this week was just the initial shot across the bow. Trump and co-president Elon Musk also announced that they are offering federal employees a golden parachute to leave en masse to be replaced by carefully vetted sycophants. This will result in the most competent people leaving the government (because they can get other jobs) and the low performers staying, which is probably what Trump and Musk want anyway. So, buckle your seatbelt. We are in for a wild ride.

The only good news is that in scanning The Washington Post this morning I noticed that Trump had chosen Led Zeppelin to head up the EPA. Terrific choice, I thought, even though he is a British citizen, and probably knows little about anything besides rock music. Maybe there is some light at the end of the tunnel after all. But when I looked more closely, I discovered that the guy is actually named Lee Zeldin, a former Congressman from New York and outspoken climate change denier.

Oh, well.

Hang in there, as they say. Have faith that we will get through this and do what you can to ease the suffering. Our legal system will provide some guard rails and resistance will  happen.