I've been wanting to make some observations for some time, but the operational tempo of my life has prevented it. There are some big changes occurring, and it seems spooky that big changes happen in my life generally in the fall, and close to one of the big birthday date years. I've been forced to take a series of long hard looks at the second half of my life, and what I want to do with it- and exterior circumstances have forced it. These changes also face this country, in many respects.
First, that Great American Dream of being a homeowner has made me more socially isolated than when I lived in an apartment, conserving capital for that great financial bonanza of home-ownership. (You can figure out what happened to that bonanza, and I had even, to my chagrin, predicted it). That is not a good thing, as one grows older and needs the support network.
I was camping out in my home, not living in it. The vast majority of my possessions that I had joyously unpacked, free of their storage tubs, went untouched. My friends did not visit, as I had moved into a small house that did not permit the gathering of a dozen geeks in one room...so much for hosting.
Secondly, the utility and self-esteem that went along with the house went quickly, eaten by the time spent traveling to all the minor destinations of shopping, etc, lawn care (lawn Nazi's), and the continual hassle and financial drain of maintaining the structure. I did *not* automatically attract female attention by living in a very nice zipcode, my dog had to be driven to parks, to avoid annoying the neighbors who kept *their* pets as weapons, and the favorable location for radio and TV did not pay off in terms of long term satisfaction. Amateur radio is an expensive money and time sink, not to mention the need to climb my roof every time something new came along. Five figures to the left of the decimal point spent to listen to boasts of how great it was to not have teeth anymore...regardless of frequency band. TV DX'ing has gone to hell since the digital transition. The thrill is gone.
Third, financially, all I was doing was renting, paying higher utilities and other frictional costs, and getting a slight tax benefit for it. The recovery in home values will not be soon enough for me to monetize a gain (as I'm past fifty), and I can literally save faster than I can realize a gain from the house. The house will require lots of cosmetic work, as I kept it as a doghouse, literally. It would need to be refitted with handicapped features as well, if I planned to stay in it for life.
Fourth, time to face up to the fact that as a professional, my income would likely be stagnant until the economy recovers. These are supposed to be my peak earning years, and I'm screwed. White collar job, but functionally, a member of the working poor. Income impossible to raise, and increasing expenses to maintain the house. The only thing to do about cash flow is to cut expenses.
And I was dying faster in the house. So It Was Time To Get Out.
Hello, Rubbermaid tubs. Down came the antenna farm (most of it). Only needed one TV. Many old books got donated, thirty year old uniforms and clothes that did not fit went to Goodwill. Nearly forty years of paper records are in the process of being shredded. and so on.
It's like attending your own funeral. The smashing blow to the ego (YOU"RE A LOSER!!) was not made anymore pleasant by knowing that I was making the right financial and health choices.
Where I'm moving to, I can walk and bicycle to everything. One block to the Doggie Park. Max is happy, and the doggies are much friendlier. My utility and insurance costs go waaaay down. My car is now sheltered, not out in the open. My gut will go down, and I'll be eating a much healthier diet (cooked by me).
Here's where the Internet gets to laugh it's ass off.
My mom's arthritis, congestive heart failure, and scleroderma have made her mobility difficult. She is competent, not incontinent. It's just that walking and lifting are sheer pain. She can still drive, but entry and exit from her car is agony, and difficult.
She needs help. She's proud as hell. I'm the one she trusts with keys and money. I'm the one strong enough to lift her. She conspires with Max. And I wouldn't be able to face myself if I didn't try to help.
So, it's Mom's Basement.
I have a completely separate washer, dryer, refrigerator, stove, bathroom, bedroom, and entrance/exit. Its a square nearly fifty feet on a side. Plus, I'm not likely to have sex ever again, sooooo...
Yes, at past fifty, I'm going back in The Basement. Enjoy the laugh.
The irony is, the country will soon be following me.
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2 comments:
I'm not laughing, Wally. You're doing the right thing by your mom, and from what I can tell, you're in a better location for you.
As the recession deepens, multigenerational households, already on the increase, will become more and more common. Hey - the latest issue of TIME lists five things about China we'd do well to emulate and that's one of them.
Pat, whose oldest daughter would probably stash me in HER basement if I ever moved in with her.
Thank you, Pat.
The phone and DSL get moved Monday, and the furniture, Tuesday.
My mom is delighted with having the dog for company. Got a set of doggie steps, so Max can jump up with Grandma and watch TV, etc.
Collecting all the miscellaneous junk is the task for the weekend. Luckily, I have lots of trash bags. I was able to salvage a great deal of coaxial cable, for example. Sold most of my antennas and pre-amplifiers, plus two TV's.
My Mom has noted that Max is happier, now that he and I are more active together. He's enjoying the adventure. My back and feet are less happy.
The house is mostly empty, except for the heavy pieces that cannot be moved by car. The beds are staying, since I might need to rent the house out, as are the washer, dryer, refrigerator, and stove.
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