Exercises For The Elderly: What Fresh Hell Is This?

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Dear Readers,

Sadly, it has come to my attention that ‘exercise for the elderly’ has become the latest health fad to hit the headlines. According to so-called scientific studies, the more one exercises in one’s twilight years, the longer one’s faculties remain intact. But has this grotesque observation ever been solidly proven?

old exercise

Personally, I am against doing anything more strenuous than forging a cheque, an activity that has been shown irrefutably to improve one’s handwriting skills AND one’s bank balance, well into old age. Husband Helmut is in absolute agreement (or is it that he finds Absolut agreeable?).


One of my biggest peeves, is constantly having to hear that exercise is a panacea for all of life’s woes. It isn’t. Exercise in all its forms, is DULL to the extreme, and a waste of precious drinking time. Apart from the physical act of doing it, talking about exercise is even duller – if that’s possible.

Yes, there is an entire industry devoted to this piteous pursuit, including hours of aimless conversation extoling its benefits. In addition, sporty types and ‘health gurus’ regularly subject innocent, stationary seniors to obscenely boring monologues regarding upcoming sporting events, sports injuries and garish sports apparel and accessories.


Alas, not content with performing Pilates at home and in one’s nighties, the athletically-afflicted among us possess an overwhelming desire to be seen in public wearing ‘the gear’ i.e. ‘treds’ meaning running shoes, and ‘sweats’ meaning expensive brand-name pants and T-shirts. As well as ridiculous neon clothes that smell in no time, the latest must-have while exercising is a wristwatch or smart phone app that monitors one’s heart-rate and calorie count. Dear readers, there is only one set of figures that warrants careful monitoring: ALCOHOL CONTENT


When it comes to staying fit, one has to ask: what could be more bothersome for us Old Relics than a once-a-day lower body workout? One such workout, known euphemistically as pelvic floor exercises’, is supposedly a most effective  treatment when it comes to improving one’s bladder control. But where’s the proof, dear readers? Are Port-a-Potties and ‘Products for the Elderly’ on their way out? Is mopping up after one of Helmut’s little accidents, a lesser kind of floor exercise? Nowhere. No. And Definitely No.


Are Port-a-Potties on the way out?

Are Port-a-Potties on their way out?

As for weight-bearing exercises, or ‘weight-BORING exercises’  as Helmut prefers to call them, should we Golden Oldies ever feel bullied into bearing more than our fair share (by sadistic offspring, for example), then may I suggest we increase the number of hip-flasks we carry to two or more, rather than our usual ONE? Naturally, keeping our flasks filled with Bombay at all times. When it comes to exercising with weights, Helmut’s personal motto: “just gin and bear it” is more than suitably appropriate!


Dear readers, in my opinion this simple monitoring, plus a zombie-like shuffle to and from the pub, should be more than sufficient to keep one alert and in tip-top shape. On a more personal note, I find hauling a stupefied Helmut OFF THE FLOOR every night, and dragging that dear man, inch by inch, up those rickety stairs to bed, to be a most gratifying form of exercise. One just has to pay attention he’s not been lying on any sort of pelvic floor…

Cheerio. Bottoms Up & Happy Exercising!




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Helga’s Topical Tips

Dear readers, as a professional Freeloader, Travel Writer and Food Critic, my work occasionally takes me into the social realm, where I am reluctantly called upon to fulfill the role of ‘Village Elder’ – a sort of Agony Aunt, in modern parlance. Funnily enough, Hubby Helmut has been called upon to fulfill a different type of role, and one that also begins with the word ‘village’.

In these dark, uncertain times, people crave guidance and inspiration, so who better to give them sound advice than a well-traveled old sot? Accordingly, I have spent many a night at our Sunny Meadows lock-up, poring over letters sent in by clueless, bothersome people, and dealing with what they perceive to be important topics.

Since so many of my readers’ missives contain recurrent, universal themes, I have compiled a useful, informal guide, to help them steer – or in some cases stagger – through life. This is a most efficient way of imparting wisdom, and rather than answering trite letters from tedious fans one by one, Helmut and I are now able to devote even more time to enjoying our hedonistic lifestyle, courtesy of the offspring.


Traditional Family Life

Narrow-minded people are always rabbiting on about how loose morals, being gay and eating at different times, etc., will spell the end of traditional family life. Utter drivel! Traditional family life is best ended by what I like to call ‘alcohol disparity’ because as everybody knows, ‘The Family That Imbibes Together, Thrives Together’!   

Lesbians, Gays, Bisexuals & Trans-Genders

Members of the LGBT community have always fallen for Helmut, or should I say, fallen OVER Helmut, mainly because he has passed out on the floor, but also because Hubby H is tolerant, open-minded, and the perfect role model for maintaining a loving, long-term relationship with alcohol. Also, gorgeous members of the LGBT community know that they can always count on me, their Fag-Hagony Aunt’ to advise them on serious issues, such as which species of crab goes well with Châteauneuf-du-Pape, and more importantly, how to avoid unflattering ‘winter colours’.


When Helmut and I first started courting (and frankly, there were a LOT of court appearances), we were besotted by a certain brand of gin. Quite simply, we have been drinking that same brand faithfully ever since. Why go looking elsewhere for a lesser alcohol content, when one can have the full percentage at home?

Obesity & Lack Of Exercise:

This is a HUGE problem, but on the plus side, Delirium Tremors burns a lot of calories and is set to be the new Pilates

Global Warming:

Yes, global warming is real, imminent, and poses a dire threat to humanity’s drinking habits. Longer, hotter summers and milder winters, means that Ice-Cubes are in danger of melting faster than ever before. Entire species of grapes, grains and fruit are under threat of extinction, and cocktail life, as we know it, could be a thing of the past. Learn to appreciate what little time we have left propped up at the bar, and cut down on carbon emissions, by pouring less tonic water.





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A Day At The Airport

Dear readers, I am often asked by thoroughly seasoned globetrotters, how it is that Helmut and I stay so unflappable when it comes to undergoing the rigors of Air Travel. “How do you remain so calm, so dignified, so GROUNDED?” fellow travelers inquire. It IS a science, certainly, but one which can be mastered with a smattering of useful tips, and of course, pills.
Practice Pills For Airports

I am of the firm belief that at airports, one should make every effort to sail gracefully through Check-In, Passport Control and Security, and to be as accommodating as possible to the ground staff. Unfortunately, many of these same ground staff employees tend to be gaunt, anal-retentive types, who rarely afford us Silver Shirkers the same courtesy in return

Anal-Retentive Type


Oh Dear! Is Madam A Little Overweight?

It is a sad fact dear readers, that, in terms of baggage weight restrictions, the more budget-conscious the airline, the more nit-picky its staff. How then, can one avoid being at the mercy of a mealy-mouthed check-in assistant, who triumphantly declares a traveler’s suitcase to be one teensy nanogram overweight? And worseuses this flimsy excuse to force us Old Crocks to either lighten our suitcases on the spot, or suffer the outrage of being charged a hefty fine!

In our twilight travel years, the constant threat of having to cough up, for even the slightest weight infraction, has forced Helmut and I to give those check-in-cheapskates what they crave – a very public offloading of our suitcase contents. 

We have discovered that cramming the spare space in our coffers, with copious amounts of polystyrene ‘peanuts’ (those tiny, lightweight protective fillers used by the packing trade), is well worth the drama that ensues. Could it be because those minuscule styrofoam mischief-makers are apt to GUSH OUT haphazardly, in every direction, thus creating mayhem and a carpet of instant litter, throughout the entire check-in area? Absolutly!

Dear readers, such a satisfying outpouring of plastic rubbish from one’s suitcase is guaranteed to cause an equally satisfying outpouring of vulgar expressions from the check-in staff!

                                            “Sh**! B**ger! F**k!”


Passport Control

Original Passport Photo

Helga’s Handy Hint: When going through Passport Control, in order to avoid any discrepancies relating to one’s date of birth, eye colour, etc., do try to ensure that one is in the EXACT same advanced state of inebriation, as when one’s original passport photo was taken.

Current State Of Inebriation

Security Check

Hubby Helmut, a saint of a man, who would gladly sell you the shop-lifted shirt off his own back, admits there is no love lost between him and today’s overly zealous Airport Security Officer. I am referring, of course, to the mirthless employee who, after demanding that innocent, geriatric holidaymakers open up their carry-on luggage, proceeds (often without the reassuring barrier of fresh latex gloves) to snoop around in their private belongings, under the very public gaze of fellow travelers.

Dear readers, one should only agree to this type of search under protest, especially if it is conducted by those who relentlessly single out retirees by  delving willy-nilly into their carry-on luggage!

Say NO To Willy-Nilly Delving!

To follow, is a classic method Helmut and I employ, to irritate the increasing number of security staff members who deliberately profile pensioners. On the day of travel, we bury Helmut’s trusty nostril-hair clippers, deep within his carry-on – a devilish act, which sets off the metal detectors when his bag enters the X-ray machine. This alarm gives the nosy officer on duty or ‘old snoopy-drawers’, the right to open our luggage and search inside. But what horrors await this hapless individual?

Horrors abound, because in Helmut’s Louis Vuitton carry-on bag, we Old Fossils have deliberately packed a sordid selection of intimate products for seniors. What is our preferred choice of embarrassing items?

Helmut and I can thoroughly recommend the following:

  • soft, padded products for ‘ultimate bladder control’
  • laxatives for retentive retirees
  • spare sets of dentures
  • disposable urinal or travel potty
  • large tube of hemorrhoid cream (plus applicator)
  • re-usable home colonic irrigation enema kit, complete with graphic safety instructions (in color).

Dear readers, if all goes well during the search, even the most weasel-like security officer will turn pale and break into a cold sweat. This is especially true if these same intimate items, or ‘Goodies for the Golden Years’, are placed on a bed of Helmut’s rancid, week-old socks and underwear. As this unfortunate officer discovers: Louis Vuitton carry-ons, are not be sniffed at!

Helmut’s Extra Smelly Socks & Underwear

Disarray achieved? Yes! Time, then, to move on to the next stage of our airport adventure – duty-free shopping. 

Cheerio, and Happy Holidaying, 

Helga x



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