The population of the city near where I live was 3,018 during the 2020 U.S. Census. It is growing yet much remains the same about small city life.
The grocery store will give you cash back, that is, unless it is early in the morning and they have not received any $20 bills in the till.
The clerk at the hardware store was reading the Cedar Rapids Gazette. I entered through the back entrance because the sidewalk in front is closed for repairs from high winds in 2023. They had what I needed.
The fire station is locked up tight as an all-volunteer force is working other jobs during the day.
A large tent was erected on the south edge of town where fireworks will be sold ahead of Independence Day.
The convenience stores are hopping with customers who service their addictions. They are the busiest places in the city most mornings.
What to make of this? It just is. The unseen parts of the city are more interesting.
A majority of residents commute to a job somewhere else.
Most everyone has high speed internet and everything that means.
Shopping with Amazon is so convenient it hits sales from Main Street stores like a bludgeon.
When we do need to buy something, the prices are much higher than in nearby larger cities.
Within city limits, housing stock turns over as quickly as a realtor hangs a sign.
It’s like one desultory stream of features that mean nothing unless one knows the people who live here. Maybe that’s the point. To know the city, know the people.
Row cover for lettuce, bok choy, herbs, spinach, and the like.
I’m okay with increased isolation as I age. I spent so much of my working years with people, I’m ready for a break. Let’s call it a permanent break. For the time being, I still drive, use the internet, and get along in social media. I can do my own shopping and make an occasional long automobile trip. Our personal to-do list is long. Working on such projects while I am healthy and reasonably strong is alright by me. I’m not as strong as I used to be. Sometimes I need help.
I rise from bed early most days. By 2 a.m., sleep is finished. I take my blood pressure and weigh myself, get dressed, and head to the kitchen to make coffee. Most days my spouse is still asleep, so I spend several quiet hours reading, writing, doing chores, and planning the day. I have a full shift in by 7 a.m., by which time I often haven’t spoken to anyone.
When I am with people, I often don’t know what to say. Engrossed in my own thoughts, such meetings force me to realize I’m not alone in the world. I seek to get along without conflict and mostly can navigate that scene. What in the heck is wrong with me that I view such meetings this way?
Yesterday I spent time with some old friends. I was careful in selecting topics for conversation. When young, it seemed we had endless hours to be with each other and do things. Now we see each other less often. When we do meet in person, time seems limited. The event I attended had new friends as well. I consider what brought us together. In most cases, it was politics or a joint project. These are good times, yet they are fleeting. I notice this more as a septuagenarian.
Being able to live in isolation is a privilege of being white, affluent, and located in a free country. In many ways, getting to this point is what I worked for most of my life. I plan to enjoy it. While I readily admit we live inside the context of a vast web of people upon whom we rely–fire fighters, physicians and nurses, grocers, utility companies, and the like–as I age, I don’t want to think about that.
After a long life of hard work, I just want some peace and quiet, isolated from the rest of the world.
I’m supposed to be taking it easy. When I retired during the coronavirus pandemic I knew outside activities would wind down as I age. I still care about our politics, yet in a different way from before the pandemic.
It began April 28, 2020 when I gave up a part-time job at the home, farm, and auto supply store. I also left work at a friend’s farm, and at the orchard. I gave up my veterans group and all my volunteer board memberships. The only activities remaining are this blog (which I’ll keep for now), writing letters to the editors of newspapers, and politics. I’d prefer to dump politics as an active concern, yet it doesn’t seem possible because it runs in my blood.
My cohort of local political activists is diminished through deaths, infirmities, aging, and people moving away. I am reluctant to engage my nonagenarian friends who have been mainstays in campaigns. Octogenarians get similar consideration. Younger people moving into our precinct lean conservative. Republican candidates won federal and statewide campaigns here beginning in 2016. Democratic politics as I have been practicing it since 1987 is fading away.
I continue to do things.
A friend returned from a trip to Thailand and we had a driveway conversation about it. We first worked together on a political campaign in 2004, so I’ve known them 20 years. We looked at photos and videos on a handheld device. One video had them swimming in a river with a five-year-old elephant. It was good to catch up.
The reason for the reunion was to collect signatures on an Iowa House candidate’s nominating petition. We have been working together so long, we speak to each other in shorthand about politics. Between us, on short notice, we collected 11 signatures. The candidate had more than the 50 required by the Secretary of State.
Later that day, another friend stopped by to pick up the petitions and deliver them to the candidate. We had a long conversation in the driveway. I know his father and the three of us all worked on Barack Obama’s 2008 campaign. Those were heady times. I wrote a post about this in 2008. We talked about the House District and who we might pull in to work on the campaign. This cycle, I plan to be a worker bee, not an organizer. I think people have heard just about enough from me. There is interest in doing better in the new district.
Driveway conversations don’t occur in a vacuum. If anything, they generate more interest and activities. Now that the filing deadline for state and federal offices passed, there is a sense the campaign has begun. It truly has and that means doing more things. For example, this week there was an informal political meet up in our House District and today is the county convention. This was a lot more talking than I have done in a very long time. Partly I welcome it. Partly, I am wary of it. The reasons are complicated.
The 2020 campaign was a bitch because of the coronavirus. The Sunday before the general election a neighbor held an event for Rita Hart who was running for the Congressional seat Dave Loebsack left open after retirement. She was standing right next to me and I didn’t recognize her. We were both wearing face masks. As we talked, it didn’t occur to me she was the candidate. That was one more wacky thing during the coronavirus campaign. The pandemic changed campaign operations dramatically. In a sense, there is no going back to the pre-pandemic methods. Hart lost in a close race.
It is early in the 2024 campaign, so we’ll see how Democrats roll. Today’s county convention should be a bellwether. As long as I don’t get too far from our driveway, I keep my wits about me. When I do leave for an in real life event, my only imperative is to recruit volunteers so we stand a chance to turn Republicans out of office in our district and beyond. Also, I continue to hear the siren song of Democratic politics.
Because the university bought the hospital system in town, I had to drive to West Branch for my six month check up. My practitioner quit after the acquisition was announced and hasn’t been replaced.
The positive news is the university plans to maintain the clinic close to me once the transition is finished. It was news on the day of my appointment the consultant hired to manage the transition from private hospital system to being part of the university also resigned to take a big job in Missouri. Staff at the clinic knew all about this when I mentioned it.
I made a list of discussion topics for the practitioner, including diabetes, reviewing medications and vitamins, blood pressure, weight, and vaccinations. I got my last pneumonia vaccine booster and made a list of four things to work on: less salt, less butter, add ten minutes onto my daily trail walk, and portion control while eating. In Iowa I’ve found plenty of time to have a meaningful discussion with practitioners I see. The longest part of the conversation was about blood pressure.
We talked five or ten minutes about blood pressure. What stands out is the standard is less than 120/80 mmHg. There is talk among the medical profession that the standard should be even lower. I would cynically note that if it were, it would increase the number of diagnoses of hypertension and thereby increase prescription drug sales considerably. I told the practitioner there must be a political aspect to a potential change in standards. He professionally refrained from commenting.
In late afternoon, the nurse who gave me my vaccination and drew blood phoned. I was at a political event in the next town over from home, so I picked up and went to a quieter corner of the room. I had read the lab results in my patient portal before leaving for the event. The results indicated everything looked good, they said, and my behavior regarding exercise and diet was working to hold off advancement of diabetes. It was a good call to receive.
Hopefully my next appointment will be back in the regular clinic. Staying on top of vaccinations and medical conditions is an important aspect of aging in America.
Part of the shore of Lake Macbride after continued drought conditions.
It is supposed to get hot during Iowa summer, yet not like this. On Wednesday and Thursday, ambient temperatures climbed to nearly 100 degrees with heat indexes approaching 120. I got outside shortly after dawn and walked along the lake shore. Neighbors were also on the trail early to beat the heat. The air was like soup. I spent most of the days indoors after walking and tending the garden.
August is almost a five week month. The writing I have done for Blog for Iowa is helping me get in practice to take up my autobiography again after Labor Day. My readership on this site after cross posting has not been as good as usual. Perhaps that is because my long-time readers are used to a different kind of writing. That’s okay. The small stipend I received to cover a vacation helped pay for necessary, existential things around the house. Things like pumping the septic tank.
I asked my friends on social media what book I should read next. There were plenty of suggestions. I picked The Circle of Reason by Amitov Ghosh, to be followed by A Fever In The Heartland by Timothy Egan. If you have reading suggestions, please leave a comment. Rarely has someone recommended something that I didn’t evaluate and read it.
It occurs to me I haven’t been to the farmer’s market in a couple of years. As I scaled up the garden, I needed less outside produce. I can’t imaging going to the orchard for apples as my trees have more than I can harvest before they fall. The pear tree is keeping us in sweet fruit, so I skipped all the commercial berries, peaches, nectarines and the like in favor of eating from our yard.
The heat is not good for septuagenarians. I feel healthy, yet realize I have to take it easy on working outdoors when it’s hot and humid. All the indoors time has not been particularly good for me, yet I’m able to process vegetables and fruit and cross things off my electronic to-do list. I look forward to autumn.
More and more I feel like a survivor. My parents and grandparents are gone, and I never had an excessive number of friends when I lived in Davenport before 1970. My political friends are aging and dying. I don’t feel like driving, except when I have to get groceries or run an errand. I need a haircut.
My spouse has been at her sister’s home for the last month, so I do what I want indoors. Notably, the radio has been on whenever I want to listen. Our child has their own life, which increasingly doesn’t involve parents. All of this means I am forced to deal with aging in America, which includes a large rasher of loneliness. I’ll be fine. As a writer, I crave being alone with my thoughts and writing.
The pattern of a hot August lives in memory. Living in this week’s excess heat hasn’t followed any traditional pattern. We have a new air conditioner so that’s a plus. (I raise a toast to Willis Carrier, the inventor of air conditioning). Except for dairy products, there is no reason to leave the house. Some say I should give up dairy products, but I’m not ready. When I went outside to get the mail, the neighborhood was exceedingly quiet. So quiet, it was eerie.
I can see the end of this heat wave and it gives me hope. Soon my spouse will be home and we’ll get back to whatever passes for normal. We survived the coronavirus pandemic without contracting COVID-19. We’ll survive this.
Cart of five varieties of kale picked June 17, 2023.
The best kale is harvested before the characteristic little green worms have a chance to establish themselves. I deter them from getting too far by a couple of applications of Dipel, an insecticide containing toxins from Bacillus thuringiensis kurstaki (Btk), a naturally-occurring bacterium found in soil and plants. Btk is not harmful to humans, to birds, or to most beneficial insects and pollinators. It is widely used by farmers who use organic practices. The truth is one has to do something about the little green worms to have a good crop. This year, because of these applications, the cruciferous vegetable patch of kale, collards, broccoli, cabbage, chard, and cauliflower looks quite good.
The spring greens harvest has two major purposes outside eating fresh kale and collards. I stem the leaves and put as many packages as will fit in the freezer. Less attractive leaves, as well as the stems go into canned vegetable broth. I have been following this practice since we got a small freezer during a power outage. Since then, we upgraded to an upright freezer. This enables us to eat greens all year, until next year’s crop. It is something that goes well in our garden. Something upon which we rely in our everyday cooking.
Based on the number of white butterflies spotted in the cruciferous vegetables yesterday, it will be hard to keep up with them soon.
We like kale, especially in stir fry, soups, and tacos. Many people do not care for it. I learned to grow it from my friend Susan back in 2013. I would stop eating it if I didn’t grow it myself and control all the inputs. Part of aging successfully will be figuring out how to continue the annual kale crop.
I’ve turned from society to soup. Not sure how I feel about that, yet the soup smells pretty darned good. The leafy green vegetables were harvested the same day, many of the vegetables were grown in the kitchen garden last season then preserved, and lentils and barley came direct from a super market. This soup made a fine dinner with five quarts leftover for the coming week and beyond.
As we age we spend more time alone. Children, if we have them, develop their own lives. In the Midwest, many of us work to age in place and the home becomes a quiet warehouse of memories and too much stuff no one needs or wants any more. To expect something different puts too much burden on our offspring. A key element of successful living after age seventy is learning to live well alone… and to let go of the possessions because you can’t take them with you.
After working a five-hour shift in the garden, I’m pretty tired for the rest of the day. Yesterday I came indoors for lunch and started the pot of soup. Most of the knife work was done before I put up the vegetables last year. All I had to do was peel potatoes and carrots, gather items from the freezer and pantry, and put everything in the pot with salt and a few bay leaves. It simmered all afternoon.
Loneliness is a normal part of aging. Because of connections formed over a lifetime, we live in a galaxy of friendship. From time-to-time we forget about our network, although we shouldn’t. When one makes so much soup, there is plenty to share.
It is getting easier to box up books to donate to the friends of the public library used book sale. I donated seven boxes so far and three more are ready to go. Creation of two large sorting tables has helped move library downsizing along.
The room I built for writing has bookcases on all four walls. For the first time in years I am dusting and rearranging them. I’m not sure there was any consistent method in how they were shelved.
A lot of space is taken with collections by author: Norman Mailer, Saul Bellow, John Irving, Joan Didion, Jane Smiley, Vance Bourjaily, David Rhodes, Ruth Suckow, James Baldwin, Hamlin Garland, Al Gore, William Faulkner, William Carlos Williams, William Styron, W.P. Kinsella, and others. There is a case to be made the collections by author belong in boxes. If I labelled the boxes, I could draw on the books when I need them, leaving shelf space open for my current research and interests.
I keep thematic collections: U.S. Presidents, Iowa City and Iowa writers, Iowa history, reference books, cookbooks, gardening books, art books, and poetry. One shelf is devoted to a printed copy of my blogs. Another has volumes on ancient history. I find myself asking the question, “which books are meaningful for life going forward?” Not as many as there are.
With retirement during the coronavirus pandemic, things changed to enable this sorting and downsizing. Our automobile remains in the garage most days. The weekly shopping trip has become a special event, for which I shower, shave and consider which clothes I might wear to the store. There is time to work on the project especially when weather is wintry.
Part of the great book sort is learning more about myself by remembering who I have been. A different me bought a copy of The Great Escape by Paul Brickhill at the corner drug store soon after seeing the then recently released film. I used money earned from my newspaper route in grade school. Today, I feel compelled to buy John Irving’s latest book, The Last Chairlift, in part for his Iowa City connections, in part for his discussions of the LGBTQ community, and in part to fill out my shelf of Irving novels. Sorting books juxtaposes all the different versions of me during the last 60 years. There are more than a few of them.
I am lucky to have lived to be seventy. Book sorting is teaching me to be more deliberate in life, to consider each element of life’s construct. I also realize there is not enough time left to read everything I want. If luck holds, I will read everything I need.
On the corner of my sorting table rest piles of recently read books. I am shocked at the level of retention from the experience. It is not as much as I want. Is there an issue with reading while aging, or not?
In an article titled, “Reading in Normally Aging Adults,” authors associated with the American Psychological Association present the following article abstract which describes the physiological and cognitive process. Sorry, it is a bit long, yet everything in it is important.
Skilled reading requires coordination of knowledge about language with a broad range of basic cognitive processes. While changes due to aging have been documented for many of those cognitive processes, the ability to read declines little during healthy aging. Aging is associated with slower reading, longer eye movements and more regressive eye movements, but the qualitative patterns of older adults’ eye movements in response to lexical characteristics (e.g., frequency) and sentence characteristics (e.g., word predictability) largely resemble those of younger adults. The age-related differences in reading behavior are due in part to older adults’ reduced visual abilities. In addition, they may result from compensatory strategies wherein older adults rely more on their intact semantic intelligence and less heavily on perceptual processing of text, or alternatively they may be a consequence of older adults being less adept at effectively coordinating word recognition with processes of oculomotor control. Some age-related declines are seen when reading comprehension and text memory are assessed at lower levels of representation for complex sentences. However, older adults perform as well or better than younger adults when higher-level meanings of a text are assessed. These high levels of performance reflect older adults’ ability to draw on crystalized semantic intelligence that provides well-organized structures in long-term memory of the patterns that tend to occur in natural language. (PsycInfo Database Record (c) 2022 APA, all rights reserved)
Reading in normally aging adults by Gordon, P. C., Lowder, M. W., & Hoedemaker, R. S. APA PsychNet.
My take away is that while my vision has somewhat deteriorated, mental capacity remains strong, and I can draw on information and experience gained in my past to better and more quickly understand what I am reading. According to other articles I read this morning, reading can maintain mental functioning, and stave off common mental illnesses among the elderly like Alzheimer’s disease.
The money quote is, “However, older adults perform as well or better than younger adults when higher-level meanings of a text are assessed.” In theory, these psychologists say, since I have visual acuity, I retain the potential to be as good a reader as anyone.
Why am I worried about the piles of books read yet little remembered?
The abstract points to a borderline area of reading: the interaction between read text and the stored intelligence in my brain. To what extent am I processing what I read in context of past reading experience, and to what extent am I taking in text to gain new experiences? My fear is it is the former. If we read, it should be to expand our knowledge and experience, not to intake words and sentences as a form of confirmation bias.
Because I curate a large home library, I plan to continue reading for as many months and years as possible. My daily reading goal is 25 pages from a book. For the most part, I exceed that amount depending upon how engaging the writing has been. Importantly, I want more than to check off the daily reading goal box on my to-do list. I want to gain knowledge and experience that will help me better cope with society. I want to read to become a better writer.
By year’s end I will have read almost 60 books. If the text is being assimilated into my existing cognitive capacity, there is nothing wrong with that. I take up each new book with hope it will reveal something about society, something specific in life, an answer to a question or something about myself. I also read to see how other authors write. As long as I take a few minutes to appreciate each book after finishing it, I am of an age where everything read becomes part of my world view.
Like many Americans, after my paid work life ended, I planned to use my pension from Social Security as a basic financial support system. So far, so good.
I’m not sure I’m finished with paid work. The prospect of earning a couple hundred dollars a month to supplement my pension remains. A disruption in Social Security could devastate our lives, leaving the future uncertain. We need a contingency plan for dealing with changes to Social Security.
The Social Security system is a key campaign issue in 2022. Republicans and their libertarian financial backers have not liked Social Security since FDR proposed it. The latest is the Republican proposal to sunset all laws every five years, about which I wrote in August. Feeling some pressure from challenger Michael Franken, U.S. Senator Chuck Grassley spoke to reporters, including Caleb McCullough, who published this story in the Cedar Rapids Gazette on Sept. 29.
Grassley: No sunsetting Social Security, Cedar Rapids Gazette, Sept. 29, 2022.
Grassley adopted a majority view of Social Security with this article. While he hits some highlights — not changing the benefits for current and soon to be retirees, and removing it from sunsetting every five years — his statement is vague enough to leave anything open. Grassley said any changes to Social Security would involve “broad consensus.” What we don’t know is if he means the consensus of all U.S. Senators or just the Republican caucus.
Do voters believe him? I posted the clipping on Twitter and the answer was a resounding no in the replies. Of course Twitter serves as an echo chamber for views, so reading those replies is not a scientific data collection method. There was consensus among posters Grassley could not be believed.
Since leaving the workforce during the coronavirus pandemic I spend more time at home. I try not to think about worrying things all the time. Yet it is like the embers of a campfire waiting for new wood to burn. For the moment, I’ll warm my hands on the present, vote Democratic, and watch for new information in my news feeds.
Journey Home 
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