A Man Alone

So much to tell.  

Joke. 

Nothing happened.  Nothing happens.  

Oh. . . I read this in The Washington Post yesterday.  Excerpted by me. 

“I was a somewhat distinguished physician with a 60-page résumé,” Rousseau, now 73, wrote in the Journal of the American Geriatrics Society in May. “Now, I’m ‘no one,’ a retired, forgotten old man who dithers away the days.”

In some ways, older men living alone are at a disadvantage compared with older women in similar circumstances. Research shows that men tend to have fewer friends than women and to be less inclined to make new friends. Often, they’re reluctant to ask for help.

Slightly more than 1 in every 5 American men ages 65 to 74 live alone, according to 2022 Census Bureau data. That rises to nearly 1 in 4 for those 75 or older. Nearly 40 percent of these men are divorced, 31 percent are widowed and 21 percent never married.

When men are widowed, their health and well-being tend to decline more than women’s.

“Older men have a tendency to ruminate, to get into our heads with worries and fears and to feel more lonely and isolated,”

Depression can ensue, fueling excessive alcohol use, accidents or, in the most extreme cases, suicide. Of all age groups in the United States, men over age 75 have the highest suicide rate by far.

Well. . . this certainly ain't good or cheery news. . . but it sounds pretty accurate, I guess, although I thought the percentage of men living alone would be much higher.  Why?  I don't know.  In truth, all my male friends are married.  I have, by far, more women friends who live alone.  Maybe I should transition.  Women have a longer life span than men, and apparently they don't commit suicide as often.  

See the photo above.  I think I'm transitioning.  

Everything I read from medical news to scientific and social studies tells me I'm fucked.  

And yet. . . "You people wouldn't believe the things I've seen."  

And done.  

Not so much lately, though.  I went to the cafe.  Woo-hoo.  I've been trying to figure out my new X100vi.  I finally got it connected to my phone.  I can shoot remotely now and transfer the images to my phone.  What is the advantages of that?

I took this photo using my phone to remotely control the camera.  Sneaky.  That cup o' Joe hadn't any idea I was photographing it.  I was just curious.  But then!!!  I transferred the image to my phone and printed it out on a portable printer on sticky back paper and pasted it to the wall where I was sitting.  

I've become a child.  

Oh. . . and it was late in the afternoon--hence "Decaf."  Eff you.  I wanted a green tea with steamed milk, but because of the hurricane, they are out of green tea.  That's what they said.  

I saw my mother.  We are bored.  Her neighborhood is having a "get together" at the nearby golf course clubhouse on Tuesday.  My mother reminded me.  Oh, boy!  I think she is excited for me to take her.  

Listened to more Proust.  I am getting along in the novel.  I would never be able to read it, but I am enjoying the listening.  The language is too circuitous and flowery for me, but I get ideas.  

You wouldn't know it from a post like this, though.  

The camera is a pip, but I have become too paranoid in public.  I will head out this morning to make some more pictures and put that little camera through its paces.  

This is the sound of nighttime in my home.  Smell the frangipani.  Taste the whiskey.  There may be goat cheese and figs and perfect almonds.  See the flowers.  

How is it that I am alone?