Despite the pleadings of those nearest and dearest to me, I’ve chosen to write some more.

Sadly, I have absolutely nothing new to report since my last entry, which feels like it was about five years ago. So, you have every right to ask, what are you going to write about?

I’ll answer that the way my 22-year-old answers most questions. “Good question,” she’ll say, as if that’s any kind of an answer at all.

I will say that I have had all the time I could wish for to read, to exercise, to try to evolve spiritually, and to learn the guitar. Don’t get me wrong.. I haven’t actually DONE any of those things; I’ve just had the time to do them.

Which also explains why this is my first post since … April 2021. (I had to look it up.) Life becomes weary for a chronicler of life when there is such little life around. With little to observe, I’ll be forced to write about myself. (I saw that I just lost 22 ‘followers’. Thanks a lot, people!)

But, enough about that. Let’s talk about me.

There is no clearer sign on the road to getting older than this.. my Medicare card. Really????

There’s this rule that three months before you turn 65, you have to sign up for Social Security. I was happy to do that, knowing there’d be a payday down the road. But unbeknownst to me, you must also sign up for Medicare at the same time (replete with dire warnings of what will happen if you fail to do so. Late fees, penalties, and more!)

Know why seniors seem so confused? It’s because they’re trying to comprehend something that is incomprehensible. You see, I have insurance through my company, and Medicare Part A, and so I called the local Social Security office to find out which becomes my primary coverage, and also to find out just what in the heck I’m supposed to do when I go to visit a doctor. The conversation went a little something like this..

“Hi. I just signed up for Social Security but also got Medicare, and now I just want to know what to do when I go to visit a doctor,” I said to the person I was connected to after spending a good five minutes punching my PII into a bot.

“Can I get your name, last four of your social, address, date of birth, zip code and your mother’s maiden name?”

Another five minutes of providing the EXACT SAME INFORMATION I had just provided!!

“I see, Mr. Rubinstein.. congratulations on turning 65!” I guess congratulations is the right term. Softer than, “Hey you made it!”

“So how can I help you?”

Repeating the very first question I asked. They must be geezers on their end too, with lessened abilities of recall — I started the conversation by telling her how she could help me.

“OK, so Medicare becomes your primary.”

“Yes, but. I only have Part A, which is for hospitalization.”

“OK, so your private insurance is your primary.”

“That’s not what you said literally 10 seconds ago….”

After another 10 minutes of getting absolutely nowhere, I still don’t have a clue. But now I’m being hounded to sign up for Medicare Part B, with more dire warnings of late fees, penalties and more if I don’t sign up now. But I have my own insurance! Why should I pay for TWO premiums?

I call my current health insurer.

“Can I get your full name, last four…” I know the drill.

“So,” I ask, “are you primary, or is Medicare primary?”

“Medicare is primary.”

“Yes, but I only have Part A, which covers hospitals only.”

“Oh, then we’re primary.”

This was getting comedic already. “Wait a minute, Abbott!” I said. “Who’s primary?

“Medicare.”
“Well, if that doesn’t cover office visits, then who’s secondary?”

“We are.”

“So, which card do I show the cashier at the doctor’s office?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“THIRD BASE!”