At any age to be on the floor and immobile, the message, “I’ve fallen and can’t get up” is not a joke. The situation is a constant concern to seniors. The time to prepare for such an emergency is now. Maybe you think you have taken care of the problem by giving a key to a neighbor. Sorry, that is not enough. They may be out or have no idea you are in trouble. You need to exchange your key with more than one member of your circle who will help each other.
Should trouble arise, one of them will eventually notice you are not answering the phone or have missed a meeting and become alarmed enough to take action. But what action? Call the police? Possible, but try less drastic measures first. Notify the others and by pre-arrangement the nearest one goes to check. If an apartment building is involved, another tenant, once the situation is explained, will probably push the entry button, but maybe not. Don’t take the chance; provide a second key and entrance code to the friends. There must also be a hidden key. Please, not under the welcome mat nor inside the plastic, phony looking “security rock.” It is highly suspicious, especially when placed in the building’s corridor. It is better to tape it under or behind something nearby.
The trusted neighbor with your key or knowledge of the hiding place is often the first responder, so it is vital that your trusted confidants know their name and phone number. Do not count on the on-site manager to have a key. They (like mine) often refuse to accept the responsibility. Form a security circle now, before something happens tomorrow. We, who live alone, must look out for ourselves and each other.
Getting lucky
Saturday night, in a moment of whimsy, a friend and I ventured out to some popular gay bars. Not being in such decadent places for a long time, I was disappointed to find the decadence at a minimum. The noise naturally was horrific, but the young crowd paid no attention as they shouted, danced and played with their phones.
Most unsettling to us was the number of women and their dates in the gay bars and men with their dates in the dyke bars (Can we say that now? The new “may say” and “may not say words” are so confusing). Everyone seemed accepted and accepting and of course that is good, but I missed the ambiance of the bars of our youth. There was always the danger of police entrapment and arrest, but there was specialness about our secret places, our private worlds where we were free to be ourselves among others enjoying the same.
But that night I felt (maybe unfairly) the outsiders were in our territory for the thrill of looking at and being near real, live queers. I couldn’t relax enough to comment about some of the gorgeous guys for fear I would be heard and somehow judged by the nearby straights (is that word allowed?).
As a senior from a completely different world, I did not enjoy myself. To you who have been to a bar recently, I don’t have to convince you as to our overall sensation of being invisible. We were not ignored, that is a deliberate action, we were just not there. This explained the small size of the older crowd. It was wonderful to see the acceptance and mixing, but I missed “our bars” and the joy of finding sanctuary. As for “getting lucky,” that now means finding a hustler offering a senior discount.
Would love to chat as founder of the UK LGBT HISTORY MONTH