Letter from the Editor #16
The humbling realization that we've gotten too old to shovel heavy snow; Thank Goodness for Mel Brooks; Live streaming tickets will be available for the Oldster Variety Hour March 4th...
Readers,
Some of you have let me know you’re enjoying this new series, and I’ve been happy to hear it. Thank you for telling me! I began writing these weekly Letters From the Editor last October after a number of subscribers who’d read a personal essay of mine here wanted to know why my own voice wasn’t more present in Oldster. It was the nudge I needed, and now we’re up to #16.
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The humbling realization that we’ve gotten too old to shovel heavy snow…
Welp, Brian and I both hurt ourselves shoveling last Sunday.
It snowed hard that day, dropping about two inches per hour, and we tried to stay on top of it. It didn’t seem smart to wait until the 24-hour storm ended the next day, when there’d be some 22 inches to deal with. We figured it’d be easier on our bodies if we lifted smaller amounts more frequently, and made a plan to shovel every three hours or so.
On our second pass, though, Brian pulled a bicep and I threw out my lower back. (Five days later we’re still in pain. Fun with aging. Wheeee…) When we awoke the next morning to another 10 inches, I suggested something I fully expected Brian to reject out of pride: paying for snow removal. But he didn’t hesitate one second before saying yes.
This came as a surprise because for years Brian had dismissed concerns about dangers associated with shoveling. He’s not a macho guy, but he’s a proud do-it-yourselfer (he calls himself “D.I.Y. Bri”), who defaults to never seeking help with a homeowner-related task if he can avoid it. He does light carpentry, electrical wiring, plumbing, and more. I’m in awe, and grateful for all the money it saves us. So I rarely push him to seek the services of professionals.
I’ve also rolled my eyes along with him every time my family has called to warn me, “DON’T LET BRIAN SHOVEL!!!” at the first hint of snow in the forecast. (It helps to picture a bunch of wild-eyed, anxious [well-meaning!] Jews here, like in a Roz Chast cartoon.)
They’ve been doing this from the time he turned 45 (he’ll be 64 next month). They’d read somewhere that shoveling snow becomes dangerous for men starting around that age, and after digging around I bit, pun intended, I’ve learned that in many cases, that’s true.
According to a Good Housekeeping article published just this week, entitled “This Is the Age When Shoveling Snow Becomes Very Dangerous”:
“The incidence of sudden heart attack spikes some 16% in men of a certain age when it snows, particularly if it’s a big storm, leading to a 34% rise in deaths, a large, two-decade Canadian study found.”
Okay, that’s terrifying. But reading a little further it becomes apparent that this doesn’t apply to everyone:
“…if they’re 45 to 50 or older, with known or hidden heart disease [italics mine], especially people who are habitually sedentary, this activity is very dangerous.”
At the risk of a committing a HIPAA violation, I’m happy to report to all of you (and my anxious family) that last week Brian paid a visit to a cardiologist (prompted by a close family member’s mini-stroke), and received a clean bill of health. “You’re a boring patient,” the doctor kibbitzed him. “All your numbers are good.”
Brian has neither known nor hidden heart disease, so he’s officially licensed to wield a snow shovel. However, he does have a 60-something form, as do I, and our forms are, shall we say, more than a bit out of shape. After the first half of this massive storm took a toll on us, it became clear we needed to bring in the big guns to deal with the second half. It was humbling to realize it had come to this, in our 60s. But not so humbling we wouldn’t do anything about it.
I took to Nextdoor and found a team of sweet, burly building contractors in their 20s from two blocks away. Three of them showed up with a plow, a snow blower, and industrial grade shovels that put ours to shame, and methodically dug us out in the space of a half-hour. We were stunned by the bill: $175. But let me tell you, it was worth every goddamned penny, and from now on, we’ll be budgeting for snow removal services annually.
Hilariously that Good Housekeeping article recommends you “pay a neighborhood kid” to shovel. Remember when teenagers would ring your doorbell and offer to help out for a few bucks? Those days are over, and they probably should be. Heavy snow removal is hard labor, and I have respect for those who do it as professionally and efficiently as the men we hired.
The storm ended Monday, but the snow isn’t going anywhere soon. There are thick, high walls of it lining the city of Kingston, reducing two-lane roads to one lane, making driving dicey. I wound up bowing out of my Tuesday night conversation with the wonderful Emma Tourtelot (yesterday’s Oldster Questionnaire subject) in Rhinecliff, out of a combination back pain and fear of navigating the icy streets. Thankfully Norm Magnusson, who lives on that side of the river, filled in for me. I’m sad I didn’t get to discuss Emma’s excellent novel, No One You Know, with her, but we might do something else soon.
I for one can’t wait for this winter to end. I’ve never liked this season (except for when snow pre-empted school, as a kid) and this edition is a doozy. I hope those of you in colder climes are able to stay safe and warm through the rest of it.
Do you shovel yourself? Do you pay for snow removal? (Or maybe you live in a building where management handles it?) Have you had any humbling realizations about your aging-related limits? How old are you?
Thank Goodness for Mel Brooks…
Since I wrote last week about the concept of the evening “comfort watch,” things in this country have only gotten worse, and the need for both action and comforting has sharply risen.
In the wake of another protester’s murder in Minneapolis I’ve been even more vigilant about calling my reps (5 Calls makes it so easy!) and donating to help people in need there. This week I was moved by Erin Boyle’s post about matching funds to help affected Minnesotans pay their rent, and contributed to that.
At the end of each day I’ve needed a serious antidote to the horror, in the form of uplifting programming. Judd Apatow’s two-part HBO documentary Mel Brooks: The 99 Year Old Man! was just what the doctor ordered.
I’ve always loved Mel Brooks, but now I love him even more. What an enduring comic genius. What a mensch. What a love story between him and his second wife, Anne Bancroft. Whoever Is In Charge of the Universe, please, please, let this man live to 100 (or older), at least so he can see Space Balls 2 released into the world in 2027.
You will not regret watching this movie. After we did, we were inspired to rewatch some of Brooks’s comedies. We started with 1977’s High Anxiety, because the title mirrors the emotional state we’re currently in. It is such a fun, screwball comedy. We cracked up, and it felt so good.
We tried to find 1974’s Young Frankenstein, but it doesn’t seem to be available for streaming right now. Next up is 1981’s History of the World Part 1. It might seem like a bit of a disconnect to laugh at some of the most horrible events of the past and most monstrous dictators at a time when history seems to be repeating itself. But there is tremendous absurdity in it all, and recognizing that offers at least a bit of comic relief.
Last week we also caught Song Sung Blue, another feel-good movie, starring Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson. It’s a sweet, moving story about a couple who, from 1989 through 2006, toured the country with a popular Neil Diamond tribute act. I don’t want to spoil it by telling you more, but Kate Hudson totally deserved her Oscar nomination for it. It’s currently in movie theaters, but you can also stream it.
Got any shows or movies to recommend? Preferably non-violent, at least a little funny, ideally with multiple seasons. Tell me in the comments:
Live streaming tickets will be available for the Oldster Variety Hour March 4th…
In-person tickets are nearly sold out for the next Oldster Variety Hour at Joe’s Pub in Manhattan on Wednesday, March 4th at 7pm. If you want to attend, don’t sleep on grabbing your seats! It’s going to be so great.
If you do get shut out—or if you don’t live in or near New York City—I’ve got good news for you: I’ve found a way to make remote live streaming available. Next week I’ll share the Eventbrite invitation with you, with a very affordable ticket price. Stay tuned…
No paywall this week…
This week I’m not putting the bottom part of my Letter from the Editor behind a paywall, as I had in prior installments. If you enjoy all that I publish here, I’d love your support. Publishing Oldster takes a lot of work. 🙏
Check out the rest of this series here. P.S. Typos happen. Please forgive me if you find any!
That’s all for today. Now go make your 5 Calls. Thanks for reading, and subscribing. I appreciate it. 🙏💝
SHOVELING, not shoving. 🤦🏻♀️ Fixed the typo.
I think, once you start receiving Medicare, you shouldn't even have to walk through snow. Big, good-looking guys should be posted on every block to carry you.