To Be or Not To Be

 

Not the Hamlet quandary, rather, to be or not to be a Californian—that is the question. It has been just over a month since our return to SoCal, prompting our annual quest for the “perfect home,” knowing full well that in all likelihood the search will be inconclusive! We have pursued the question with vigor as is our wont.

My ambivalence about California persists. The weather has been a bit cooler than normal, but it is certainly not what is to be expected in the Midwest this time of year. We walk nearly every day, enjoying the sand and sea, filling our lungs with salt air, starting to get tan lines around watch bands and shirt sleeve borders.  Our grandchildren are growing, becoming individuals of interest and delight. We have the opportunity to see them nearly every week. The privilege of becoming a genuine part of their lives is sacred. Yet something about California living be whispers “be wary.”

Once again we have engaged the time of a realtor, although I feel guilty commanding a professional’s time when I could give her 1:20 odds against making the sale’s commission.  She has shown us dungeons and do-ups, but nothing that could prompt a bid.  The charming lady tells us that realtors have very little “product” to show; Orange County homes are selling like hot cakes once again. It is amazing to solid Mid-westerners that homes selling for 500-600 thousand have cardboard cabinet shelving and water heaters ready to begin a great conflagration.  

We have been encouraged to give Laguna Woods a second look. As I recall most of the very reasonably priced homes there hadn’t seen an interior decorator since 1952, or a cleaner in a decade. The sellers were either recently deceased, or sitting in wheelchairs manned by home health aides waiting to whisk them off to a nursing facility as soon as the ink was dry on the contract. Despite descriptions of golf courses and recreation buildings teeming with activities the leisure village for seniors was depressing, depressing, depressing—but cheap.

In a more venturesome mode we have also been looking at new homes. The construction industry in California is booming (take note all you investors).  I am interested in the Central Coast between Santa Maria and San Luis Obispo, hoping soon to make a visit to active lifestyle communities in the model homes stage. The smaller homes—and people our age need smaller—are fairly reasonable in this area of California. It is about 2.5 or 3 times farther from our grandchildren however which may or may not be a good thing. If we were to move to Orange County I’m afraid that we would always be second best to the girls’ California grandparents—lovely, loving people who have been a part of their lives since birth.

The quandary continues, uppermost in my mind is the query “Is it really too late for us to relocate?”  We are no longer young; our time has most probably past, and besides, who wants to have a mortgage in their 70s!  Frankly we are torn between the safety of our wonderful Midwest home or the risk of an uncertain future in a land long overdue for an earthquake.  The slings and arrows propagate exponentially… 

In all probability we will return to the Chicago area in March with the question unresolved, but not really unanswered.  Once again life will resume, all too quiet, searching for a place to rent next winter, choosing which snow shovel to use on the driveway, facing dreams discarded with a brave smile, acquiescing to sensibility, waiting for the home health aide.

No TV

My grandchildren have never had a television in their home. They play no video games. They have no concept of consumerism driven by commercials. The concept of asking mom or dad to buy something advertised on Saturday children's programming has never entered their heads. No whining in the grocery store. Indeed, I doubt that they realize that they could ask.

They are interesting, intelligent, and creative elementary school girls. Something exciting waits around every corner when a child's imagination has never been channeled (pun intended) by Tony the Tiger. They read; art fills the walls of their home; dance and musical performances spontaneously engage their afternoons; stories and jokes fill their conversation. I have never seen them be physically aggressive. They seldom argue, preferring to negotiate a solution to their differences. I do not claim their perfection, but the girls are awfully good company, albeit a bit exhausting.

It cannot be easy for our son and his wife to maintain their stance on TV. It would be so very easy to let the television be the "babysitter" for a few hours. I applaud their determination and dedication to the integrity of their children by keeping their childhood open, creative, and free. My son and his wife are busy, but engaged, parents who take their parental responsibilities very seriously. I admire their courage. The results have been very good.

While some will view a total TV prohibition as too severe, many others might benefit from a bit of media rationing in their own homes. Yes, there are some educational programs on TV. The quality of a few programs is good. Have my granddaughters missed anything really important? Not really. (Be honest!) Give your children more credit. Trust their innate creativity; nurture their journey through self-discovery, uninfluenced by media and dubious cultural influences. Say "NO" to TV, if only occasionally.