Sunny Acres Assisted Living Facility. Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home.
Where do they get those cutsie names for places where America warehouses its old folks? Do you really want to live in a place called Daffodil Village? Is the very last thing you ever see a red emergency alert button on the wall that’s just out of reach?
“Here at Butterfly Gardens, we take pride in our beautiful surroundings and professional staff…” That’s what the brochure tells you. You sign up for the tour. When you get to B-G, it stinks of medical waste and disinfectant. It’s dark. The dining room reminds you of your high school cafeteria except there are no food fights because no one is strong enough to pitch a paper bowl of mystery stew at anyone else.
These are warehouses. Storage lockers. Some are better than others. And when you see the payment schedule, you’ll have shortened your stay, maybe to zero.
The worst of them are expensive. The “OK” ones are very expensive. The “good” ones radiate bankruptcy vibes… yours, not theirs.
Why are so many of these places under fire for everything from dirt to abuse to incompetence? They charge fortunes but not enough to hire enough workers -- or adequately screen them? So where does the money go? It’s certainly not back into grandma’s accordianized net worth.
Safety concerns, medical concerns, general condition concerns abound. And it doesn’t matter if the home is run by Bentley driving Pillars of the Community with hidden offshore bank accounts, or churches or government. Every state has problem warehouses.
In fact, if the people warehouses were actual warehouses in this low state of repair, maintenance and inspection, the owners wouldn’t be allowed to sell the lettuce or chickens or milk they stored.
But don’t worry. Grandpa is perfectly safe at Daffodil Village... just ask the chief daffodil who gets his mail at Sing sing. Better yet, ask Bubba, his charge nurse.
SHRAPNEL (Tax Day Edition):
--You have until midnight tonight to get your electronic tax return sent and you’d better hope Google or AOL or Yahoo doesn’t have one of its inexplicable “glitches” and that the time stamp is correct. What, you forgot? Shame on you.
--You have until midnight tonight to get your snail mail tax return postmarked and you’d better hope the post office picks up the mail from the corner box on time and that there’s ink in the postmark making gizmo. What, you forgot? Shame on you.
--There are a few post offices that remain open until midnight. Hope you can find one. If you do, and you go there, you’ll think you stumbled into a flash mob gathered around a string quartet or an open bank vault.
GRAPESHOT:
-My own taxes were lower this year than last but I can’t figure out whether that’s because of the Republicans’ “Miracle” tax cut or simply because I near-exhausted my 401 K last year.
-There’s something comforting about Tiger Woods winning the Masters… it’s a comeback worthy of other once-troubled champions… with like Muhammad Ali, Lou Gehrig, Pele, Agassi, Ben Hogan and Seabiscuit.
I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®
Correspondence? Write to wesrichards@gmail.com
© WJR 2019
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