We Teach Our ADULT Children How to Drive

My 25-year-old daughter doesn’t have her driver license. If you’re from New York City and you just read that sentence, you probably aren’t too shocked. Many New Yorkers never learn to drive. There’s no need to. Subways and buses, which go to most parts of the five boroughs, run 24/7. (Or not, depending on the on-going service disruptions due subway construction. This recent article from the New York Times captures our sense of entitlement, frustration and dependence.) In fact, I had a much easier time of the teen years than did my friends in the suburbs, ex-urbs or car-dependent urban areas: I did not have to worry about my kids driving drunk. Sure I had to worry about all the other things parents of teens do — teens do stupid things and can end up in trouble, or, worse, hurt. And it wasn’t until my son was in college that he mentioned that one night their senior year of high school, his friend Ben had taken his grandparents’ car (with permission) and driven them all to Great Adventure down in Jersey. But back to my daughter. While many New York City non-driving kids do learn in college because getting off campus becomes imperative, my daughter went to school outside of Boston, and was within walking distance of the “T.” (My daughter had one friend in college at Emory who owned a car before she managed to get her license, and got in trouble at a routine traffic check because she was driving without a license. As I said, young people can have lousy judgment.) So here she is, at age 25, without a driver license and maybe about to move out of New York City. (Yes, I wrote those words, and I’m sick over it, but that’s another blog.) Her permit had actually run out. But she took care of that. And now we (and her boyfriend) have been giving her driving lessons. I must say that this time around–she actually did try half-heartedly several years ago–she is fantastic. She steers well, keeps to the speed limit, and shows great confidence and determination. She came upstate for a few days and drove the long way to the supermarket (six miles) and the very long way back. We had even thought of making a trip to the outlet mall in Lee, MA on Friday. I90 may be one of the easiest interstates around. But we woke Friday morning to snow, and that killed our outing. No more driving lessons from us for a while. No outlet bargains for us.

The One and Only Mahaiwe

1/2/12 On New Year’s Eve we went to the Mahaiwe Performing Arts Center in Great Barrington to hear the Berkshire Bach Ensemble perform all six of J.S. Bach’s Brandenburg Concerti. The founder, harpsichordist and conductor, Kenneth Cooper, was his usual ebullient self, giving a really virtuoso performance of the solo in the 5th concerto. And Eugene Drucker is such a fine violinist. The whole troupe, though, was great — and in a festive mood, as was the audience. Although Howard at one point joked that the average age of the audience was 72, and would have been 74 were it not for the two 20-somethings sitting nearby, the spirit was wonderful. Not everyone attending was a connoisseur of baroque music, but it didn’t matter. When people applauded in the middle of a movement, or between movements, or after a particularly roaring solo, it all felt so right. And being in the Mahaiwe is such a privilege. Built in 1905, it was the home to vaudeville performers, and is one of the oldest theaters in the country. John Phillips Sousa played there once. In 1930 it became a movie theater, and that’s how I knew it when my kids were little. It was dilapidated and freezing in the winter. I saw Saving Private Ryan there, as well as Duck Tales: The Movie (which I deserved a medal for sitting through). At some point the theater suffered a terrible fire, and we figured that was that. But starting in 2005 funds were raised for an amazing and meticulous renovation. My photos do not do it justice. The Mahaiwe is the theater we all dream about: sumptuous details, boxes overhanging the stage. Now on the National Register of Historic Places and featuring incredible acoustics — well, let me say that the next time you’re in Western Massachusetts, it’s worth a visit.

Mahaiwe Performing Arts Center
14 Castle Street. Great Barrington. MA 01230
Box Office: 413-528-0100
Mahaiwe Box Office Hours:
Wednesday – Saturday: 12noon – 6pm
plus 3 hrs prior to all showtimes
www.mahaiwe.org

Have you been there? Let me know. Any other historic theaters you love? Tell me about them in the comment box below. As always, I’m at on Twitter @wordwhacker.

I Wish You a Jewish Christmas and a Happy New Year

Jewish Christmas. It’s a hashtag on Twitter. @JewishTweets and @JewishConnectiv both asked people about their movie/Chinese food plans. We, of course, had those plans, as we have for years. I can’t even remember when we first did this; certainly I didn’t get it from my parents. In the 1950s-60s Chinese food was still exotic enough that I don’t think I even had some until I was a teen. My mom did buy canned Chung King stuff, though. We also almost never went to the movies when I was little, only drive-ins in the summer.

For many years, when the kids were little, we spent every Christmas vacation in Florida visiting grandparents. There were the weeks when our days completely revolved around the pool and we had such a good time with other young parents and kids similarly visiting their families. Then there were weeks when we bundled up in our winter coats and went to Sea World. Several times the fake waterfall outside my in-laws condo development froze. Even south Florida can get cold in December. But without really knowing that we were on the cutting edge of something that would become A HASHTAG!, we would take the kids to the movies Christmas day because there was nothing else to do, and then we’d eat Chinese food for dinner because no other restaurants were open. The kids loved driving by all the houses with Christmas lights. That was one thing about south Florida: Christmas was obvious in a way it wasn’t necessarily in New York City.

These days my now-adult kids say they never felt deprived around Christmas time. They say the accepted completely that Christmas was a holiday we didn’t celebrate. The year my son was six, his friend Willy confided that he was getting suspicious about Santa Claus because Santa had used the same wrapping paper as his parents. “I think that’s proof,” I overheard my son tell his best friend.

Me, on the other hand, I had horrible Christmas envy. Growing up, the only other Jewish family besides my uncle’s (who lived next to us) in the neighborhood was the rabbi of our synagogue. The Jews in Worcester lived in and around the streets that had once been part of “The Ellis Estate.” We lived on a 1/3 acre that had been part of the “Salisbury Estate.” My parents tended to do things differently. When they finally retired, they went to Sanibel Island and then wondered where all the Jews were.

So there I was on Waconah Road, looking out on Christmas decorations on every house. Friends’ parents invited me to tree-trimming parties, which my parents let me do (though my mom would not let me go to the WASPy “Cotillion” classes when they began). I even went to midnight mass with friends. One of my nicest memories is waking up on a Christmas morning when it had snowed a foot during the night, and all the neighbors, including my father, uncle and brother, were outside to shovel the street so people could get to church. So even though I what I really wanted was a Christmas Tree and a stocking hung up on living room fireplace, what I have carried into my adult life is a good value: help your neighbors, no matter what their religion.

New Years Eve also seemed to pass me by when I was a child. One year we went to a fancy party thrown by my best friend’s parents. Kitty wore a sleeveless green velvet dress with a drop waist that her father had purchased in Paris. I wore a wool skirt. (No wonder I’m always afraid of being dressed incorrectly.) Yeah, my college, post-college New Year’s Eves were filled with drunken revels. But once I was married — the Florida thing. Professors have Christmas vacation. We’d go out to dinner, but we were certainly in bed by midnight. So in the years when friends started their New Years Eve rituals, we were in Florida. A few years back, when there was no longer any reason to hit the tropics, we found we had nothing to do.

Several times Howard and I went outside before midnight and walked to the boat pond gazebo right off Central Park West to see the New York Road Runners Club Midnight Run and fireworks. That was great fun. But then it got crowded; it became a “thing,” like the blowing up of the balloons before the Thanksgiving Parade. Last year we went into Great Barrington to hear the Berkshire Bach Ensemble play Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos. This year we’re going again–with our daughter’s boyfriend’s parents. Then it will be back to their house for dinner (the concert ends about 7:30) for Veuve Clicquot. I expect we’ll be home by midnight. But we will have had a wonderful time.

People make a big deal of the holiday season. Considering how short and dark these days are, it’s a good idea. I loved how Hanukkah came so late this year. It gave the candle lighting more joy–menorahs in the window! (The last night, with all those candles going, we set off the fire alarm. Oh well.)

The holiday customs we inherit, those we make ourselves–it’s interesting, especially considering that baby boomers are the largest population cohort ever. You can leave your comments below. I’d love to know:

  • What holiday traditions have you inherited and still keep up.
  • What holiday traditions you have make up.
  • Whether you think holiday customs are important or have anything to do with who we are.

To everyone out there: Wishing you the best holiday season. See you on the flip side.

Oh, and here’s a picture from our Hanukkah party. And I’ll give you my latke recipe. This year I made the best latkes ever. Then again, it’s not a recipe I practice a lot. So

8 baking potatoes

2 large onions

1/2 cup flour

4 eggs

salt, pepper

I use one large potato for every person, and adjust the recipe accordingly. Peel and grate the potatoes. I do this in the food processor, although I know latkes taste better when grated by hand. Mix everything together in a large bowl (not metal) so that it’s one big mess. Drain off the extra liquid. There will be more and more of that as the mixture sits. Also, grated potatoes left out in the air turn kind of orange. That doesn’t matter. I use a cast iron skillet with about 4 tbls of oil for each batch. I take out enough grated potato so it’s the size of a small hamburg and press it pretty flat. Each batch has about six pancakes. The flame is medium high because they need to cook through but be really crisp. If necessary turn over more than once. Keep adding oil. Remember: Hanukkah is all about the oil. I then drain them on paper towel that’s on a  baking sheet in the warmer drawer. This way everyone can eat at the same time. Serve the latkes with applesauce and/or sour cream. As I make them only once a year, the latkes are the feature of the dinner, and the sides include whitefish salad, marinated vegetables, etc. Most people use them as a side dish with some other “traditional” main dish, like roast brisket.

Always remember you can tweet me @wordwhacker

 

You Can Call Us Old, But We Are Not Selfish

The first mention of the article came to me by way of Twilert–my morning hashtag delivery service–via some young guy named Charz Kelso. (Coming attraction: I’ll talk about Twilert on my next post about Baby Boomers and Twitter.) True, we can all use 30-year-old pictures of ourselves as Twitter avatars (translation: pictures), so maybe Charz Kelso isn’t a Gen Yer angry at his parents. But this was his tweet:First off, I don’t get the idea of someone mad about not getting his inheritance. A woman I know once complained bitterly while her parents’ estate was being settled that she wanted her money. “Her money,” I thought. “It’s your parents’ money. They worked for it. They had the right to do with it whatever they want.” So I object to that kind of spoiled kid attitude, whether the person is six or sixty-six. An inheritance, should one be so lucky, is a gift, not something you are owed.

Anyway, next I clicked on the link in his tweet, which brought me to Time.com’s “Moneyland”: http://ti.me/oiPZF0. This article cited a study by U.S. Trust (a retirement investment company) that concluded that “a surprisingly low 49% of millionaire boomer parents said that leaving money to their kids was a priority.” They also referred to the Baby Boomer reputation for selfishness–something I hadn’t heard before and would much dispute. (The so-called “me” generation was around before Boomers had come of age.) I tried to check out the study itself, but the U.S. Trust page didn’t have a link. So I went to the original article in the L.A. Times. (http://lat.ms/oUvor4) The only information I got there was that U.S. Trust surveyed some millionaire boomers. But how many they surveyed, how they picked their sample, and so on I couldn’t ascertain. So I called a friend who manages money for millionaires. He was circumspect, of course. That’s his professional stance. But mostly he was “huh?” His logic? The multi-multi millionaires have more than they can possibly spend in their lifetimes, and their plans often include trusts for children and grandchildren.

The L.A. Times article also quotes Ken Dychtwald, a former economics guru who somehow manages to still be a quotable person, even though the recession flushed his “age-wave” theory down the tubes:

“Many boomers already are giving the equivalent of an inheritance, except they’re doling out the cash while they’re still alive, said Ken Dychtwald, chief executive of research firm Age Wave. They’re supporting elderly parents, adult children or other family members who are suffering professional or financial woes. ‘How can you say no when a child asks ask for a down payment for a house or money to remodel their house to have a bedroom for a second child?’ Dychtwald said. ‘A lot of boomers are finding that family members are taking cash advances on those inheritances right now.’”

In other words, come inheritance time, what with all we’ve spent sending out kids to college, helping them buy homes, getting our parents the best medical care, well, there just might not be that much money left. Let’s forget about the multi-millionaires. There aren’t that many of them anyway, and really, whether the Hiltons are putting away money for Paris or the Kardashians for their famous kids, I don’t give a hoot.

Let’s talk instead about the upper middle class or regular old middle class baby boomers whose 401ks and other retirement investments kind of shrunk during the recession. We aren’t nearly as rich as we thought we were. We also can expect to live well into our 80′s. It might be really hard if we want or need to retire to live just off principal so that there will be a chunk of money available (when we die) to our heirs. The continued resistance, indeed vilification, of a sensible medical system where people could get good care for relatively little money–the kind of system in place in Canada, Israel and many Western countries–makes more plausible the possibility that we shall have to finance our own care should we get hit with an illness in our older years.

I might have ignored this tweet, except that Creating Results (http://creatingresults.com), a PR company that focuses on BabyBoomers and seniors and that usually tweets important information about this enormous cohort of our population, picked up the same quote as Charz Kelso, and tweeted this:

To which I replied, “no way, silly study,” or somesuch. They came back with this (and by the way, I’m @wordwhacker on Twitter, for those of you who don’t know):

And that’s the point. For most of us, decisions about inheritance might be moot. We are not selfish. Far from it. So many of us are right now helping out unemployed recent college/professional school graduates. How could we possibly do otherwise? They’re our kids. Or we might be paying medical bills for the elderly and infirm. But how could we do otherwise? They’re our parents. Personally, I am grateful for how comfortable my husband and I are. And if we somehow amass a nice chunk of cash before we die, I’ll be really happy for my kids to have it. I’m glad I’m not so rich that I’m too busy spending everything I’ve got so that there will be nothing left for my children and (I hope) grandchildren when I leave this earth.

One more thing: Charz Kelso’s tweet reminded me of other ones that come through on my #babyboomer Twilert feed or comments I read online–young people all lathered up into a fury by right wing Republicans and Tea Party-ers because they say we’re taking their money when we get Social Security and Medicare Baby Boomers. I’m not going to argue that there aren’t problems with the way Social Security is set up now because there does seem to be a tipping point a couple decades from now when the system could go broke. Nonetheless, it’s not “their” money we’re getting. It’s money that has been taken from our paychecks every day of our working lives. It belongs to us. It is not a gift. It has been an investment.

Some things to consider:

  • Clue your kids in about your finances. No, not when they’re in their teens, but if they’re adults, they should know where your money is invested and how you foresee financing the rest of your lives.
  • Talk to them about what they’ll inherit. Look, we’re getting on to 60, and people die. Adult kids should have some idea how to access your assets. At some point, you should also have the “Suzie gets grandma’s china” discussion. Find out what is important to them and write it down. Your lawyer can keep a copy.
  • Speaking of lawyers, have a will and a living will. Even if you don’t have that much money, it’s important that you leave clear instructions about what you want to happen when you die. Do you want your kids to sell your house and split the proceeds, or are you hoping one of them buys out the others? Be clear. Also, make it known what you want to happen to you–do you want “heroic measures,” i.e. feeding tubes, if you’re in a coma an not expected to revive? Do you want to be buried or cremated?

Finally, a shout out to Charz Kelso (who seems maybe to live in Singapore): That was a really well done tweet. For those of you interested in what makes a good tweet, note that he has all the elements: A new and interesting idea; a hashtag (#inheritance) under which this tweet will be filed and seen; a link to an article; wit.

As always, you can leave your comments here on the blog. You can find me on Facebook at facebook.com/Linda.Bernstein or facebook.com/LindaBernsteinPhD. On Twitter I’m @wordwhacker. Do you think Baby Boomers are selfish? Let me know.