Six Hours And Counting....

Yesterday, I spent six hours with a woman who has been targeted by transient criminals.

They found her on Craigslist and were quite charming when they came to find out about the granny unit she had for rent behind her house.

The man was well-dressed and his girlfriend was very poised with her Sarah Palin smile. "Georgia" let them move in without a background check or even a reference check.

Credit checks are meaningless, particularly in this economy. I'm not in favor of credit checks but a background check is very easy and tells all the story someone might need to know before opening their home to a stranger. I gave Georgia my private information so that she can do a background check on me, given that she is sharing a lot of private financial information. That's the only way I can do anything is to have that info.

Before two months had passed, they had stolen two of her credit cards, gained access to her debit card PIN by claiming only that they wanted to help her and run errands for her. Georgia, being disabled and not capable of driving or getting around easily, allowed them to do it. These criminals know how to target vulnerable people. Georgia is 66 years old, has had a stroke and is isolated and depressed. I spent six hours with her and she is a very caring, good-natured and kind person.

After it was all done, Georgia was several thousand dollars in debt. Sarah Palin Smile had gone to Macy's, Target, Costco and assorted big box stores. She maxed out Georgia's cards. Her bank account was drained. Her mortgage was behind since the tenants weren't paying their rent and she nearly lost her house. If her ex-husband hadn't come along to rescue her, she would have lost everything.

When I got home and began researching Well Dressed and Sarah Palin Smile, I found extensive criminal histories on both. Well Dressed had an assortment of evictions with judgments for the landlords, burglary charges, drug possession and check fraud. Sarah Palin Smile has a case pending for identity theft. She goes to court on 1/13/10 for sentencing.

All of this information was readily available before they targeted Georgia. I found all of this free of charge on the Internet. I searched court records and general Google searches that led me from one place to another. Begin here if you want to check someone out. If you feel particularly ambitious, you can look through this database from the Seminole County Sheriff's Office which is the most comprehensive. Just click on "Transient Offenders".

It's unlikely that Georgia will ever recover any of her money. Transient criminals have multiple identities, live off the grid and judgments can't be collected.

The good thing is that I will be able to contact local law enforcement, specifically the detectives who specialize in financial fraud and elder abuse. More charges will be brought against Well Dressed and Sarah Palin Smile. It's a small consolation to see them get a bit more jail time when Georgia's life was left in shambles.

But at least it's something.

On January 13, I will be at the courthouse and will snap a picture of Sarah Palin Smile. I will post it on Craigslist, including her aliases and current address. Hopefully it will protect some other unsuspecting elderly landlord.

Doing this work really gives my life a lot of meaning, too. If I can protect even one or two elderly, vulnerable people, I'll call it Good.



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Memory Is A Crazy Woman...

Memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food. ~Austin O'Malley

Yesterday, I took my housemate to the Memory Clinic. She is being evaluated for Alzheimer's. Three different people with different skill sets gave her a lot of tests and interviewed me. There was a physician (a neurologist), a memory specialist and a social worker. The entire process took three hours. It was very thorough and I trust that she will get a solid diagnosis and a treatment plan. We won't know the outcome until next month.

This got me to thinking about memory and has resulted in several hours of Internet searches, reading everything from anecdotes to articles from neurology journals. Lots of it is over my head but still useful for a general understanding. Memory is a funny thing, something most of us lose at particular times and other events remain cemented in the forefront of our recollection, almost as though they are tattooed on our frontal lobes.

Personally, I've always had a sketchy and fluid short-term memory. It is a large dumping ground. Facts, figures, events and snippets of information, storylines of books that have impressed me, quotes, all sorts of things gather there and crop up when I want or need them. Sometimes they've gone into the ether where they can never be retrieved again. It's more like a subtle smell or a fragment of a song lyric that can't quite come to the surface.

Most of the time, I don't remember when I learned those things or how I gathered that information. It doesn't matter. Now that I'm retired, I often don't know the date or the day of the week. It simply doesn't matter.

At what point it becomes significant is what interests me. Many of the questions asked of us yesterday were obvious attempts to get a grasp on her orientation to time and place. They had her draw a few things and tested her verbal skills and understanding. She did her best and I could see her struggling.

But at what point is it pathological and when is it simply a function she doesn't need in her day-to-day life? Is it really that important that she know the day of the week or when something happened?

I came away from the experience yesterday knowing I want to protect my memory. I don't expect it to store everything for me like a super-computer. I don't expect to be able to call up every snippet of information I've ever learned without having to look it up again. (Calendars and books are good for that. They function as my memory and work perfectly well.)

As I age (and that's closer than further away), I want to make sure my mind and brain are active. It's important to not get caught up in pettiness and drama, to make sure that our capacity for memory is respected, protected and used well.

That means making a conscious effort to keep those neurons firing. I was discussing all of this with a friend last night and we both, of a similar age - my being a few years older - decided to learn Spanish. It is a good way to stimulate our brains and exercise our memories.

One of the people at the clinic yesterday, it might have been the social worker, said that people who stay active and involved in their environments, learn new things, stay socially active and interactive, are less likely to develop dementia in old age.

I'm in. This needs to be an effort that is just as conscious as eating well and exercising. Personally, I can't imagine anything worse than getting old and losing my cognitive ability. As has been said by many others thousands of times, when that happens, just shoot me.

Most of the people who read this are too young for this to be an issue - but still something worthy of keeping in mind. Remember. :)



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Sacred Life Sunday: Mindless Fun

Last weekend, I went to an estate sale in one of the more exclusive neighborhoods in Sacramento. (Yes, believe it or not, there are a few!) The sale is extending over two weekends. Last week, it was clothes. Today, it will be furniture and housewares. I'll be there when it opens.

The homeowner in this case is not dead. She is a doctor who was reassigned to Texas. Rather than pack up and move, she decided to sell everything. From the looks of things, she packed a suitcase and walked out the door. Someone bought her mustard yellow Mercedes and the clothes in the house could have easily filled a boutique. There were dozens of suede coats, designer dresses, pants, outfits, bathrobes. There were so many pairs of shoes that it was startling. I would guess at least 100.

On first glance, it would appear the woman has a serious shopping addiction. There were Maggie Sweet pants outfits that hadn't been removed from the cellophane packaging. Shoes that had never been worn. Designer outfits with the tags still hanging from the sleeves.

It must be nice to be able to walk away from an entire household and leave it all behind. I imagine her driving south on I-5 toward Los Angeles, I-10 toward Texas and the sense of freedom she must have been feeling.

Yard sales, estate sales and garage sales are all tremendous fun. It's a kick to go to the ATM, take out forty bucks and mindlessly shop. A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Pretty housewares that are often in brand new condition. I've furnished more than one home exclusively through estate sales. There are always very good deals to be found. If I wanted to get political, which I don't, it's an excellent way to recycle things. Nothing goes to waste.

One of my shameless weaknesses is designer clothing. I might be as poor as the proverbial church mouse but refuse to dress that way. Last weekend, I bought designer outfits for ten dollars apiece. (I have to lose a few more pounds to wear them.) Two pairs of shoes. I even bought a jacket. These are things she probably paid hundreds of dollars for. I spent $43.21 and walked out with a full bag.

Today I will be looking for some of the housewares and appliances that I'm lacking for my move. I need a blender, a new microwave, an electric frying pan and a few other things. If there's some pretty flatware, I'll probably buy that. I already have a set of dishes from another estate sale... very high end. I paid $18.00.

All harmless fun!


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Sacred Life Sunday: No Slime Zone!

Typical of so many women of my generation, I've been taught that subjugating my will to the preference of others is a sign of kindness, a sign of selflessness which is the cornerstone of a "good woman". Women of my mother's generation got that pounded into their consciousness even more than mine. It's a hard one to let go.

A few days ago, my housemate loaded a bucket of slime on me that actually caused me to physically recoil. It wasn't about me. She didn't insult me. She was talking about her own life in such hateful, negative and angry terms that I actually walked away from her. There's a time when I would have stood there and listened, figuring it was the kindest thing to do even though it made me feel horrible.

Last Sunday I sat through a class that made me feel slimed as well. It was a very dark, cold place with heartless people. It was harsh, judgmental and punitive. I recoiled.

Yet in both cases, I grappled long and hard with my right to remove myself from those kinds of environments. How does someone walk out on a woman who probably has Alzheimer's? It feels cruel. At the same time, I know it is not my responsibility to take care of her. That is her childrens' responsibility. It is up to her family to make sure her needs are met. I've singlehandedly taken that on for several years now and I feel done. I no longer choose to have that in my life and now I believe I have the right to make that choice.

This is a woman who has consistently shown absolutely no interest in my life or well-being. She has no boundaries. She doesn't know what it means to wait for a "come in" before walking right into my rented unit. It is assumed that I am always available to her for her concerns. She has a sense of entitlement that would send anyone over the edge. I'm sick and bloody tired of humoring her. I've never given her a thorough tongue-lashing even though she deserves it because she's old and sick. It seemed too far out of the range of civility for my personal tastes.

This is part of a larger constellation of changes I have been making. Most of my life has been consumed with the needs and wants of others. First it was my parents. Then my live-in boyfriend. Then it was my ex-husband. Then it was a boss or supervisor. Now it's this woman. It's always been someone else coming first.

Now I'm ready for a new apartment. I just found it this past week. The rent is reasonable and it's in a safe location. I will choose the people who come over. I will choose who has my phone number. I will decide when I want to answer the door and no one will come in unless I let them in. I will - finally - own my own existence in a healthy way. My place will be full of plants and pretty things. It will be a happy, peaceful... perhaps even joyful.. place.

A few months ago, someone on a newscast offhandedly said, "I never got the memo that told me I was supposed to have low self-regard and take crap from people." It was a young woman, filled with the confidence of youth and accomplishment.

I thought about that for a long time. I did get the memo. The women of my generation and before got that memo. It was marked "Urgent" and was written in bold print.

I've torn it up.



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Hateful theology.....

Words mean something. And when we use words to promote hate, however cloaked it is in theology, it's still just plain wrong!

Sunday morning, I went to my class. It is a fill-in class and a big disappointment after the Life Coaching class last month. The focus is Psalm 119. The class is called "Sweeter Than Chocolate." Well, the way it is being interpreted and presented, it should be given the name "More Bitter Than Lemons".

The instructor of the class has blown me out of the water twice now with hateful comments. Her first statement was regarding the death penalty, justifying her support of institutionalized murder. She didn't talk about deterrents or any of the other usual justifications. She framed it in hatred for the criminals.

If this woman was a Muslim, she'd be on the Homeland Security Watchlist!

Her second statement was "we should hate sin. There is too much tolerance of sin these days."

I'm no one's theologian but even I know that the word "sin" translates to "mistake".

There are many approaches to human imperfection and our mistakes. The one I hold is that people who make mistakes usually act from woundedness or ignorance. And, yes, some people are just "born bad". I do believe that. But that's another issue for another time. I still don't believe I have the right to murder them.

At the same time, I think the purpose of religion is reconciliation and healing. It is about a loving universe or God that seeks to heal us, to comfort us and to help us make good choices. It's not all that different than the Ten Precepts of Buddhism. There are rules that make our lives work. There are behaviors and beliefs that lead us to misery. It should be used to bring us together, not tear us apart.

There are some who believe that religion is to execute social control, discourage freedom of thought and to scare people into following cultural customs and norms. They use it to disempower large groups of people so that they can control them. Their greatest tool is fear. That kind of religion, as Marx once said, is the opiate of the masses.

I've read a lot about Jesus over the years and he was amazing! He was straightforward, blunt, honest, authentic and he was very, very kind! Kindness isn't always sappy sweetness. Sometimes kindness is giving someone information they need to make good choices. Sometimes that's bluntly. He healed. That's not to say he never got mad. He got frustrated. Cursing a fig tree for being barren out of season is a sign of frustration, not hatred. There are times when he rebuked people but it wasn't out of hatred or rejection.

The instructor of this class has a superior, smug, arrogant and judgmental attitude. I can't help but believe Jesus would find that appalling. I can feel the tentacles of her judgment, even sitting in the class. It's an energy she throws off.

She has taken a dislike to me, as well she should. We think nothing alike. While I'm sure we have some things in common, I doubt either of us care enough to share our time with each other. I offered to buy a book for a woman who couldn't afford one. I negotiated a bit, said I would pay $15.00 for it rather than $25.00. It's better than giving it away, right? She commented that the woman who needed it hasn't been coming to the classes that long, so why should she get a break? I said "kindness" and walked away. What could I possibly say to something like that? The woman didn't get the book because they wouldn't sell it to me. I guess they think she should be "punished" for not coming to enough of the classes. Yecht! (Since I likely won't finish the class, I'll just give her mine.)

The next few weeks are going to be a challenge. If nothing else, it will test my tolerance for being around people who honestly carry such hateful attitudes - and choose to live their lives in such a small, harsh and unrelenting cocoon. I think it would be a rather smothering and unhappy place to be. I'm happy and grateful that I no longer live in that world.



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Sacred Life Sunday: Indra's Net

It's been an interesting few weeks. It seems the universe is providing me with lots of new opportunities to reconcile the past, become friends with it and make connections with some people, related and not, with whom I have not communicated in 40 years.

At a relative's prompting, I set up a private Facebook account, as private as Facebook can be, that is meant only for old contacts. Relatives and friends left behind in Los Angeles many, many years ago. There are also some cousins I've never met who live on the east coast.

There's a woman I knew in 1967 through 1970. A girl then. We went to high school together. She had it all together. She wasn't overly popular by high school standards. There were three of us who hung out together, an unlikely group. One wanted to be a model. She was tall and blonde and beautiful. The perfect physical type. I was a compulsive, nomadic seeker and it isn't what I wanted to be. It's just what I was - and what I am. I was the hippie. And then there was Carole.

Carole was quiet by nature and that stoicism hid a deep wisdom uncommon for her age. She was always very clear. If I had to sum Carole up in one word, it would be clarity. She stood tall and proud, even during an uneasy adolescence.

I heard from Carole this week. She found me.

She wrote a long newsy letter, filled with accomplishment and ambition. She lives in a lovely, exclusive part of Los Angeles. She is someone for whom achievement clearly matters. On the other hand, that compassion was still present. It was a turn of phrase that let me know. Books she's chosen to read. Seminars she's attended. Her career choice which is in Human Services. Her comment in my yearbook was "never forget that the biggest surprises come in the smallest packages". While I understood the cliche in a superficial way, it took some number of years before I understood what she was saying. She was right on target.

Carole and I have both done human potential seminars. The one we shared the same year but in a different location is est. We both care about the world and the people who inhabit this fragile planet. We both have a quiet nature. We do and did have much in common when you scratch below the surface.

I haven't responded to her letter yet, although I intend to do it soon. I've grappled with myself about how to frame an unusual life at best. I've spent years and years living hand to mouth, gathering up traveling money and taking off to Parts Unknown, hoping to find that One Thing that would make sense of this earthly existence. When I finally made it to Thailand, I knew it was not unfamiliar soil. That's where the compulsive seeking stopped. I was nearly 50 years old.

Everything I own to this day can fit in a 5X5 storage unit. I haven't accumulated things, achievements or people. My life flows. Things come and things go. When I decide to move, I give away huge amounts of accumulated "stuff", then I get more in my new location. People come and people go. It's not that I consider others to be disposable. It's just that I accept at a really root level that people pass through our lives and sometimes moving on is appropriate. My primary achievement is freedom. I don't just want freedom. I need it to exist. It is my oxygen. Anything else would suffocate me. If I didn't die physically, I would die spiritually. The latter is worse than the former in my humble opinion.

These are all things I want to communicate to Carole in a positive way. I no longer find it acceptable to apologize for my life. She hasn't asked that of me but many years of conditioning and culture have led me to believe that it is required. I feel the need to justify my existence for the past 40 years. But this is about me, not her. It's only been the past several months that I've allowed this very judgmental, harsh part of me to surface. When something surfaces that way, it's because it needs to be healed.

So I grapple with some vanity. I want to feel "worthy" of her. I want to feel "equal" to her. And I look at all the ways I don't "measure up".

I can frame this in a way that will accentuate the commonalities between us. I understand Indra's net. We are all connected. We all seek although we might do it in different ways. While our lives might look very different, we share a common bond. We are here. We're all sharing this life experience.

In that context, we can't fail with each other. Carole and I will learn from each other. I will learn from the example of her life and she will learn from the example of mine.

In the end, that's what matters.



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Okay. What in the world was I carrying on about?

Okay. I was vague in my last post about what I am doing. I wanted permission to discuss it in detail and that wasn't forthcoming. There's a very good reason for that and it is one I respect. But I can discuss it in a general sense.

Most of the people who read here are young enough that this probably doesn't have much reality. I'm technically middle-aged (closer to "old" than I like to admit) so it didn't have much reality to me, either. Still, we all have older relatives, older friends and older neighbors or acquaintances.

I am involved in an investigation of elder abuse. Someone I have known for a long time has been targeted by transient criminals who, if allowed, would do harm to her. Since I trained with a private investigator in Tucson and learned those skills, I decided to put them to use now. (Just goes to show that everything we learn along the way comes to good use eventually.) Basically I gather information, compile it, follow up on it and give it to a licensed PI who adds it to information he already has and passes it along to Law Enforcement if that's appropriate. So.. generally, that's what I'm doing.

Older people who don't have a strong support system in their lives are often vulnerable to these transient criminals. The more information Law Enforcement has, the better chance they have of catching and prosecuting them.

Transient criminals move into an area, identify their targets, commit their crimes and move on. They are sometimes called "travelers". They have multiple names and social security numbers which makes them very difficult to track.

An example of the crimes they commit is financial elder abuse. They get close to the targeted old person, often treat them very well in the beginning, giving them plenty of attention and essentially ingratiate themselves. When the time is right, they close in, take advantage of the older person's weakness, perhaps confusion, memory issues and other maladies of old age. They become caretakers.

Often the older person builds a trust relationship which is soon abused. The supposed caretaker will get the older person to give him or her financial control. He might get her to sign a joint tenancy agreement. When she dies, he gets the house. At the very minimum, the "caretaker" will empty out her bank accounts. Another method is to gain the old person's sympathy with elaborate stories of illness or a relative's need. The old person will hand over large sums of money.

A sign of this happening is when an older friend, relative or neighbor begins to isolate. They no longer respond to phone calls or take visitors. This is not the old person's choice. They are being intentionally isolated by the caretaker.

Lonely old men are vulnerable targets. A younger woman will begin to court him, fawn over him and ultimately wipe him out financially. She will tell him how much she loves him and ask for a BMW. She cooks him meals and generally pampers him until he believes she really loves him.

Being old is difficult in this culture where old people are viewed as disposable. This is really the larger issue.

So what can we do? We can pay attention to older relatives, friends, acquaintances and neighbors. We can notice who is hanging around and make sure their motives are pure. If we do have to provide a caretaker, make sure he or she is accredited and bonded.

These criminals often put ads out on Craigslist, offering their services as a caretaker. Never, ever, respond to those ads! If you need a caretaker, go to a reputable source. Have a background check done and make sure a Trusted Someone is in charge of the money.

Educate yourself and those in your community about these crimes. One way is to have a speaker come from ElderAngels to give a talk at your community organization, school, church or other gathering place.

When the case is closed that I am involved in, I'll be able to talk about exactly what I am doing and what I've discovered. At first, my intention was to protect only the older person I know. The more work I've done with this, the more I realize it's an issue I care a great deal about. I've decided to continue on, volunteering my services in a more general sense.


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