Golden Years

The mailbox is flooded with brochures for retirement communities that promise truly golden years for the inflated price of gold that the brochures omit.

The algorithms relentlessly find you. Take this test to see if you have the early signs of dementia. You know, the cognitive test Trump always claims he aced.

Bladder control? No problem. We’ve got you covered! Literally, with pads of mini- or maxi-size, and with exercise equipment guaranteed to strengthen those pelvic floor muscles. Life is short! Buy life insurance! Even Chuck Todd, the esteemed former “Meet the Press” moderator, is hawking it on cable. Or maybe sell your life insurance since “our kids are doing well, and we’re planning to take some long delayed trips.”

Smarter phones

Land line phones with large letters and numerals. Stairmaster lifts to get you up and down flights. “A place for mom” aimed at your now middle-aged children. The aches and pains of aging? It’s all there, on your phone, on your screen, in between what passes for “news” programming. You think you have a “smart phone?” In reality, the phone is much smarter than you. It knows everything about you. It’s got your number.

I find myself thinking back wistfully to the commercials of another era. “Double your pleasure, double your fun, with Double Mint, Double Mint gum.” “Wheaties: The Breakfast of Champions.” “Quaker Puffed Wheat and Rice – Shot from Guns!” Even from Alka-Seltzer: “Plop, plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is.” With no fine print or dire warnings of potentially deadly side effects. You know, back when life went on without constant reminders of its end, when there was no morbidity mania.