USA: Artist Louise Bourgeois dies in NYC at 98

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SEATTLE, Washington / The Seattle Times / Obituaries / May 31, 2010

Artist Louise Bourgeois, whose sculptures exploring women's deepest feelings on birth, sexuality and death were highly influential on younger artists, died Monday, her studio's managing director said. She was 98.

By JENNIFER PELTZ
Associated Press Writer

NEW YORK —

Artist Louise Bourgeois, whose sculptures exploring women's deepest feelings on birth, sexuality and death were highly influential on younger artists, died Monday, her studio's managing director said. She was 98.

Bourgeois had continued creating artwork - her latest pieces were finished just last week - before suffering a heart attack Saturday night, said the studio director, Wendy Williams. The artist died at Beth Israel Medical Center in Manhattan, where she lived.

Working in a wide variety of materials, she tackled themes relating to male and female bodies and emotions of anger, betrayal, even murder. Her work reflected influences of surrealism, primitivism and the early modernist sculptors such as Alberto Giacometti and Constantin Brancusi.

In this 1990 file photo released by the Guggenheim Museum shows Louis Bourgeois alongside her sculpture "Eye to Eye, 1970." A retrospective of Bourgeois' work is currently being shown at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York. Her studio's managing director says artist Louise Bourgeois has died in New York City at age 98. GUGGENHEIM MUSEUM / AP

"I really want to worry people, to bother people," she told The Washington Post in 1984. "They say they are bothered by the double genitalia in my new work. Well, I have been bothered by it my whole life. I once said to my children, `It's only physiological, you know, the sex drive.' That was a lie. It's much more than that."

Bourgeois' work was almost unknown to the wider art world until she was 70, when New York's Museum of Modern Art presented a solo show of her career in 1982.

Related
Guggenheim.org Louise Bourgeois collection

"This is not a show that is easy to digest," New York Times critic Grace Glueck wrote. "The reward is an intense encounter with an artist who explores her psyche at considerable risk."

In his book "American Visions," Time art critic Robert Hughes called her "the mother of American feminist identity art. ... Bourgeois's influence on young artists has been enormous."

He noted the key difference in her use of sexual imagery: She explores "femaleness from within, as distinct from the familiar male conventions of looking at it from the outside, from the eyeline of another gender. ... Surrealist fascination with the female body becomes, so to speak, turned inside out."

Among the honors coming to her were a National Medal of Arts, awarded by President Clinton in 1997. In October, she was inducted into the National Women's Hall of Fame in Seneca Falls, N.Y.

In 2001, thousands of tourists saw her work "Spiders" when it was exhibited on the plaza at Rockefeller Center for 2 1/2 months as part of a Public Art Fund program to promote outdoor exhibits in New York.

It featured a 30-foot-high spider, "Maman," carrying a basket of eggs, flanked by two smaller spiders. ("Maman" means "Mama" in French.)

In 2007-08, an elaborate retrospective of her career, from the 1940s onward, was displayed at the Tate Modern in London, the Georges Pompidou Center in Paris and the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York.

Meanwhile, younger artists cited her as an inspiration.

"I orbited Bourgeois," conceptual artist Jenny Holzer, known for her piquant use of words as art in projections and electronic displays, wrote to Williams after learning of Bourgeois' death.

In many interviews, Bourgeois cited a childhood trauma as the source of much of the emotion in her work: her father's affair with a woman hired as an English tutor for young Louise.

"You see, I always hated that woman," she told The Washington Post. "... My work is often about murder."

In "Dangerous Passage," from 1997, Bourgeois drew upon memories of her childhood, strewing a cage with symbolic objects: an antique child's swing on one side; broken bones on the other.

Her room-size 1991 sculpture "Twosome" combined a flashing red light, two steel cylinders and a motor that propels the smaller cylinder in an out of the larger one. The materials suggested a machine, but the movement evokes sexuality, or birth.

Ferocious vulnerability … Seven in Bed, 2001.

Photograph Christian Sinibaldi for the Guardian


In 2007, she depicted the effects of aging on her own body in a series of 11 large panels called "Extreme Tension."

In an e-mail exchange in early 2008, The Associated Press asked Bourgeois what advice she would give young artists just starting out.

"Tell your own story, and you will be interesting," she responded. "Don't get the green disease of envy. Don't be fooled by success and money. Don't let anything come between you and your work."

Bourgeois was born in Paris in 1911; her parents ran a business restoring antique tapestries. In her early years, she studied at the Academie des Beaux-Arts and other schools and studios.

She moved to New York in 1938 after marrying the American art historian Robert Goldwater and became an American citizen in 1955. A professor of art history at New York University, Goldwater was also director of the Museum of Primitive Art, established in 1957, and wrote a key book on the topic, "Primitivism in Modern Art."

While Bourgeois work shows the influence of primitive artists, she was quick to note that her work was not primitive.

"My husband said 15 years ago that primitive art is no longer being made," she told The Washington Post in 1984. "The primitive condition has vanished. These are recent works. Look at it this way - a totem pole is just a decorated tree. My work is a confessional."

Her husband died in 1973. She is survived by two sons, Alain and Jean-Louis, as well as two grandchildren and a great-grandchild. A third son, Michel, died in 1990, Williams said.

Copyright © 2010 The Seattle Times Company

USA: The Doctor Will See You Now. Please Log On.

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NEW YORK, NY / The New York Times / Business Day  / May 30, 2010

Dr. Jerry Jones uses two-way video at his home in Houston to consult with a patient across town. Dr. Jones is under contract to NuPhysicia, one of the new telemedicine companies. Michael Stravato for The New York Times

By MILT FREUDENHEIM

ONE day last summer, Charlie Martin felt a sharp pain in his lower back. But he couldn’t jump into his car and rush to the doctor’s office or the emergency room: Mr. Martin, a crane operator, was working on an oil rig in the South China Sea off Malaysia.

He could, though, get in touch with a doctor thousands of miles away, via two-way video. Using an electronic stethoscope that a paramedic on the rig held in place, Dr. Oscar W. Boultinghouse, an emergency medicine physician in Houston, listened to Mr. Martin’s heart.

“The extreme pain strongly suggested a kidney stone,” Dr. Boultinghouse said later. A urinalysis on the rig confirmed the diagnosis, and Mr. Martin flew to his home in Mississippi for treatment.

Mr. Martin, 32, is now back at work on the same rig, the Courageous, leased by Shell Oil. He says he is grateful he could discuss his pain by video with the doctor. “It’s a lot better than trying to describe it on a phone,” Mr. Martin says.

Dr. Boultinghouse and two colleagues — Michael J. Davis and Glenn G. Hammack— run NuPhysicia, a start-up company they spun out from the University of Texas in 2007 that specializes in face-to-face telemedicine, connecting doctors and patients by two-way video.


From thousands of miles away, Dr. Oscar Boultinghouse checks the eye of a patient.
Michael Stravato for The New York Times

Spurred by health care trends and technological advances, telemedicine is growing into a mainstream industry. A fifth of Americans live in places where primary care physicians are scarce, according to government statistics. That need is converging with advances that include lower costs for video-conferencing equipment, more high-speed communications links by satellite, and greater ability to work securely and dependably over the Internet.

Related
NuPhysicia Videos of Doctor-Patient Visits (inplacemedical.com)

“The technology has improved to the point where the experience of both the doctor and patient are close to the same as in-person visits, and in some cases better,” says Dr. Kaveh Safavi, head of global health care for Cisco Systems, which is supporting trials of its own high-definition video version of telemedicine in California, Colorado and New Mexico.

The interactive telemedicine business has been growing by almost 10 percent annually, to more than $500 million in revenue in North America this year, according to Datamonitor, the market research firm. It is part of the $3.9 billion telemedicine category that includes monitoring devices in homes and hundreds of health care applications for smartphones.

Christine Chang, a health care technology analyst at Datamonitor’s Ovum unit, says telemedicine will allow doctors to take better care of larger numbers of patients. “Some patients will be seen by teleconferencing, some will send questions by e-mail, others will be monitored” using digitized data on symptoms or indicators like glucose levels, she says.

Eventually, she predicts, “one patient a day might come into a doctor’s office, in person.”

Although telemedicine has been around for years, it is gaining traction as never before. Medicare, Medicaid and other government health programs have been reimbursing doctors and hospitals that provide care remotely to rural and underserved areas. Now a growing number of big insurance companies, like the UnitedHealth Group and several Blue Cross plans, are starting to market interactive video to large employers. The new federal health care law provides $1 billion a year to study telemedicine and other innovations.

With the expansion of reimbursement, Americans are on the brink of “a gold rush of new investment in telemedicine,” says Dr. Bernard A. Harris Jr., managing partner at Vesalius Ventures, a venture capital firm based in Houston. He has worked on telemedicine projects since he helped build medical systems for NASA during his days as an astronaut in the 1990s.

Face-to-face telemedicine technology can be as elaborate as a high-definition video system, like Cisco’s, that can cost up to hundreds of thousands of dollars. Or it can be as simple as the Webcams available on many laptops.

NuPhysicia uses equipment in the middle of that range — standard videoconferencing hookups made by Polycom, a video conferencing company based in Pleasanton, Calif. Analysts say the setup may cost $30,000 to $45,000 at the patient’s end — with a suitcase or cart containing scopes and other special equipment — plus a setup for the doctor that costs far less.

Telemedicine has its skeptics. State regulators at the Texas Medical Board have raised concerns that doctors might miss an opportunity to pick up subtle medical indicators when they cannot touch a patient. And while it does not oppose telemedicine, the American Academy of Family Physicians says patients should keep in contact with a primary physician who can keep tabs on their health needs, whether in the virtual or the real world.

“Telemedicine can improve access to care in remote sites and rural areas,” says Dr. Lori J. Heim, the academy’s president. “But not all visits will take place between a patient and their primary-care doctor.”

Dr. Boultinghouse dismisses such concerns. “In today’s world, the physical exam plays less and less of a role,” he says. “We live in the age of imaging.”

ON the rig Courageous, Mr. Martin is part of a crew of 100. Travis G. Fitts Jr., vice president for human resources, health, safety and environment at Scorpion Offshore, which owns the rig, says that examining a worker via two-way video can be far cheaper in a remote location than flying him to a hospital by helicopter at $10,000 a trip.

Some rigs have saved $500,000 or more a year, according to NuPhysicia, which has contracts with 19 oil rigs around the world, including one off Iraq. Dr. Boultinghouse says the Deepwater Horizon drilling disaster in the Gulf of Mexico may slow or block new drilling in United States waters, driving the rigs to more remote locations and adding to demand for telemedicine.

NuPhysicia also offers video medical services to land-based employers with 500 or more workers at a site. The camera connection is an alternative to an employer’s on-site clinics, typically staffed by a nurse or a physician assistant.

Mustang Cat, a Houston-based distributor that sells and services Caterpillar tractors and other earth-moving equipment, signed on with NuPhysicia last year. “We’ve seen the benefit, ” says Kurt Hanson, general counsel at Mustang, a family-owned company. Instead of taking a half-day or more off to consult a doctor, workers can get medical advice on the company’s premises.

NuPhysicia’s business grew out of work that its founders did for the state of Texas. Mr. Hammack, NuPhysicia’s president, is a former assistant vice president of the University of Texas Medical Branch at Galveston, where he led development of the state’s pioneering telemedicine program in state prisons from the mid-1990s to 2007. Dr. Davis is a cardiologist.

Working with Dr. Boultinghouse, Dr. Davis and other university doctors conducted more than 600,000 video visits with inmates. Significant improvement was seen in inmates’ health, including measures of blood pressure and cholesterol, according to a 2004 report on the system in the Journal of the American Medical Association.

In March, California officials released a report they had ordered from NuPhysicia with a plan for making over their state’s prison health care. The makeover would build on the Texas example by expanding existing telemedicine and electronic medical record systems and putting the University of California in charge.

California spends more than $40 a day per inmate for health care, including expenses for guards who accompany them on visits to outside doctors. NuPhysicia says that this cost is more than four times the rate in Texas and Georgia, and almost triple that of New Jersey, where telemedicine is used for mental health care and some medical specialties.

“Telemedicine makes total sense in prisons,” says Christopher Kosseff, a senior vice president and head of correctional health care at the University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey. “It’s a wonderful way of providing ready access to specialty health care while maintaining public safety.”

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Copyright 2010 The New York Times Company

JAPAN: How can it get too late to learn?

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TOKYO, Japan / The Japan Times /  Life in Japan / May 30, 2010

How can it get too late to learn?

Diplomas yield little reward for most older people who go to university in Japan, with their considerable endeavors barely rated by employers at all

By WINIFRED BIRD

Professor Ryusuke Yoneyama was in the middle of explaining to the members of his music-production class why Baroque-era violin bows, which resembled loosely strung archery bows, produced a weaker sound than their contemporary counterparts when he paused to ask a question.

Food for thought: This copy of French artist Auguste Rodin's famed 1902 sculpture, "The Thinker," sits pensively outside the entrance to Wakayama National University in Wakayama City. Nationwide, many are pondering why it is that in Iceland 40 percent of entering undergraduate students are aged 25 or older, and 23 percent in the United States — but only 2 percent in Japan. WINIFRED BIRD PHOTOS

"Has anyone here ever tried archery?" inquired 56-year-old Yoneyama, who is both a professor in the Faculty of Tourism at Wakayama National University and a professional classical oboist.

For a moment, a deathly silence hung over the small, nondescript classroom where 10 students sat around a couple of pushed-together desks. Six young women in heavy eye makeup and three young men in T-shirts and zippered sweatshirts fidgeted in their seats. Then the tenth student raised her hand.

"I have!" said Yoshiko Matsuzaki, an attractive, petite woman sporting a lavender suit-jacket with small black flowers embroidered on it, beige pumps and a chunky bob streaked with a few strands of white. "Just a little," she added with a sheepish smile.

Matsuzaki is a 57-year-old fourth-year student in the undergraduate tourism program, and it just so happens that she was married to a local archery champion for two decades. As the owner of an audio-equipment store and a classical concert enthusiast, she also knows a few things about Baroque music.

"Wow . . . " murmured her 20-year-old classmates.

In Iceland, where — according to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) — 40 percent of entering undergraduate students were aged 25 or older in 2005, Matsuzaki wouldn't be anything special.

In the United States, too, she would blend right in with the almost 24 percent of students the OECD identified as falling into that category.

In Japan, however, she is one of fewer than 2 percent of undergraduate students who bring their experience as adult members of society into its university classrooms.

Experts agree that adult learners should be flocking to Japan's universities. According to the Research Institute for Higher Education at Hiroshima University (RIHE), the number of 18-year-olds nationwide fell from 2,007,035 in 1990 to 1,214,389 in 2010 — meaning universities are scrambling to keep their classrooms full.

At the same time, a poor economy and relatively high unemployment rates mean more adults are looking for ways to improve their careers.

"The government and universities are all working to increase the number of older students. At private universities in particular, the number of young students is decreasing, so if they don't increase their intake of older students they are not going to be financially stable," said Ikuo Amano, an emeritus professor at the University of Tokyo who has authored more than 25 books on Japan's higher-education system and is a vocal proponent of educational reform.

The Executive Director for Admissions at Wakayama University, Tatemasa Hirata, put it more simply: "We really want them to come."

Nevertheless, the numbers remain persistently low. Explanations range from university policies geared to serve traditional full-time students, to social mores that define university students as young — to an employment system that often discriminates against older graduates with prior work experience. For many adults who might otherwise head back to school for a new start in life, the barriers simply prove too high.

For Matsuzaki, it literally took a brush with death to get back to school.

"In high school I was a tennis star, and I got sports scholarship offers from a number of universities," said Matsuzaki, who grew up in Niigata Prefecture. She didn't want to keep playing tennis, however, so she turned down the offers and instead moved to Tokyo and found a job at Isetan, a famous department store.

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(C) The Japan Times

NEW ZEALAND: An oldie ... but still a goody

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WELLINGTON, New Zealand / The Sunday Star Times / May 30, 2010

By MICHELLE SUTTON

Albert Cunningham is a music teacher playing to a different beat. The 90-year-old is the country's oldest classroom teacher, and has no plans to give up. He entered the classroom in New Zealand at 66 – an age when most teachers are retired – having moved here from Canada.

Twenty four years on he is still teaching, taking classes in electric bass at Whakatane High School and saxophone at Kawerau College.

Mr Cunningham to his pupils and "Ham" to his colleagues, he is older than most of his students' grandparents, but says teaching keeps him young and there's never been a reason to quit.

"I love it and just kept doing it. Why make a change? You have to work," he says in his matter-of-fact way.

He occasionally falters in thought, but quickly recovers, speaking in smooth, sure tones with a hint of his Canadian twang – "how did that work out – oh yeah, so how it worked out was..." – continuing with a never-ending supply of anecdotes, such as the time his orchestra performed for the Queen.

Keeping pace with his 13-17-year-old to students is no problem, he says, but he laments the lack of discipline in today's schools. In particular, Cunningham notes a lack of respect from some students, and a carefree attitude.

"Discipline was so strict when I went to school, you didn't dare lift a finger. Now kids talk whenever they like and say whatever they want."

Albert with students Terence Apiata, left, and Kahurangi Hunia. Photo: Chris Skelton

At times, he says, it's even worse than "the promiscuous" 1970s in Canada, when teachers were threatened by students with stabbing or shooting.

The final straw prompting him to leave was the day his son came home, saying he couldn't make friends because everyone was on dope. "So, I thought, we have to get out of here."

He read New Zealand newspapers for a year before settling on safe and warm Whangarei, where he ran a fish and chip shop and played trumpet and string bass in the occasional band. But for someone who spent four years at Canada's Royal Conservatory of Music, an approach to teach music was too good an opportunity to pass up.

He started out teaching music one day a week at five Waikato schools, and is still in the classroom.

With his emphysema under control, his health is holding up. And although he's living alone, three of his five children are nearby in Whakatane.

He dismisses talk of quitting, and vows to continue for as long as possible. "I guess I will carry on until the day I die, or until I win the Lotto."

© 2010 Fairfax New Zealand Limited

JAPAN: When East Marries West

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TOKYO, Japan / The Japan Times / Life in Japan / Features / May 29, 2010

WHEN EAST MARRIES WEST

An ode to aging English teachers

By THOMAS DILLON

"I haven't lost a beat," he tells me.

"He" being an old friend. The adjective is qualified by both his appearance and our years of association. He sports gray hair, wrinkles, bifocals . . .

And what he has really lost is his way of life.

"It's the economy," I say back. "Times are hard."

That's a tidy excuse. But what's bugging him is something different . . .

The thought that, after years of teaching English in Japan, he might — just might — be over the hill. For he can't draw students like he used to.

"But I can still say, 'Repeat after me.' And I can ask good questions too. Like . . . 'How was your weekend?' Or . . . 'What did you eat for lunch?' Plus my joke repertoire has been breaking ice for decades."

He pauses. "Ever hear about the shrink who opened an office with a proctologist? They called it .  'Odds and Ends!' "

He roars — by himself. And when his laughter dies away, he says with icy awareness. "Just what has gone wrong?"

I avoid giving him an answer. For he is seeing what we all see sooner or later. The end. And, not so oddly, he can't accept it.

What do you do when you can't do what you've always done? Especially when you're an outside resident with limited options?

"But I can still speak English. And if I can speak English, then what more can students want? It's not like I'm forgetting. I mean, have you ever heard me mix up 'L & R'?"

"You mean 'R & L'?"

He gasps. Then sees I'm kidding.

"Don't tease me. Sometimes things happen. Like last week I told my class the story of my first year in Japan twice — in the same hour."

And before I can speak, he adds . . .

"It's a great story, too. Have you heard it?"

I have. But that won't stop him.

"I was two years out of high school, I wore bellbottoms, and my hair was shaggier than a sheepdog's. I didn't have any degree, any experience, any anything, and people would pay me money just to sit there and talk about whatever was in my head — the weather, baseball, Raquel Welch, anything. I didn't have to prepare. I didn't have to think. All I had to do was open my mouth."

"It was the best job in the world. I got paid for just 'speaking my native tongue.' And paid by everybody too — businessmen with company budgets, housewives in need of a hobby, parents hoping I could make their kids bilingual. The money burned through my fingers. I'm surprised I don't have scars."

He shows me one hand. All I see are age spots.

The years surprised him too. He taught everywhere but finally settled down, married, and opened his own neighborhood classroom, with offerings for both adults and children. It went well. Both his days and his coffers were full. Until the bubble burst.

"But I survived." By "I," he means "we." For his wife's job carried him until the classes — somewhat — rebounded.

"And they will now too!"

But can bravado overcome Father Time?

"I think the real problem is the kids these days," he says. "They just don't know what's good. I mean, there's this younger guy two stations down, got his own little school. He teaches song lyrics from Lady Gaga and so on, and the kids flock there. But I do the same with Bob Dylan. Tell me, who is better? Gaga or Dylan? You're a man of the world."

But I am not a 15-year old kid.

"Or maybe it's the parents' fault. They can't see quality. They prefer a bottle of Boone's Farm over a selection of fine aged wine."

Or maybe they see that the bottle is dry.

"Ever think of slowing down? You know . . . Kicking back and sniffing the roses?"

"Quit?" he says "Me? But why quit when you've still got it?"

By "it," I think he means his mortgage.

"I'm not finished yet. Not by a long shot."

But he once lucked into the perfect situation. People paid for his services when he had no true services to offer. And he milked that into a living. Hundreds, if not thousands, of other gaijin did the same. But things changed. It's time to appreciate the good run he had.

"But it isn't done! And now that I've got experience, I am a priceless commodity!"

Who will work for pocket change.

"I like little kids the best. I can teach 'Bow Wow' and 'Oink Oink.' And the ABC song never gets old."

Not like the rest of us.

"But the kids don't get my jokes. Say, you ever heard about the shrink who opened an office with a proctologist?"

"Um . . . Odds and Ends?"

He nudges me. "No! Nuts and Butts! See? I've still got it! Right?"

But the room fills with shadows, not echoes.

"Right?" he says again.

And the clock ticks on.

(C) The Japan Times

Illustrative photo by courtesy: How-to-teach-English -in-Japan

AUSTRALIA: The warm heart in winter

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SYDNEY, NSW / The Sydney Morning Herald / Society & Culture / May 28, 2010

NATIONAL TIMES

The warm heart in winter

MICHAEL LEUNIG

More and more lonely, your path struggles on through incomprehensible mankind. Rilke (Lament)

Winter arrives and the face looks suddenly more blotchy. Summer's healthy glow has gone from the brow and a mean pallor is asserting itself like sickly moonlight from the darkness within. Under the strain of countless bygone disappointments the flesh has drooped into irregular, irredeemable saggings that now wither into an insipid glare from the mirror. It is you. It is winter.

To save the day, a cheery mirror smile is attempted, but this is instantly recognised as a mistake. Joyless desperation never works. There is something utterly implausible and futile about this forcing of the lips, this clumsy disturbance of the cheeks; something so failed and frightening that the traumatised inner portrait takes another turn for the worse.

Yes, it's the descent into old age and winter — two journeys barely discernible from each other and rolled into one. What a well-suited couple, hand in hand as the darkness gathers and the cold rain comes down. All of us are getting older of course, but some of us are getting old — me included, and as the beloved Rilke has plainly declared: "Who has no house now, will never build one. Whoever is alone now, will long remain so . . ."

Yet it's not all over. There is a promise about old age, something to do with the soul that still needs to flourish. There is surely the chance of ripening into sweetness — not sickly sweetness, but the sweetness of a well-ripened plum. Maturing into fullness is the idea — yet fullness with a lightness of being. The prune is another idea but we won't go into that just yet.

There appears to be a fork in the road in one's "late middle age" where the plum of self can either develop according to one's lovelier aspect or else go down the path of a personality's more dismal and heartbreaking qualities. The light touch of loveliness is a very inviting prospect, since there has been enough bitterness, heaviness and conflict in the rat race already.

Of course there is the old curmudgeon stage that all eager pilgrims must go through on the difficult road to wisdom and this is a healthy growth phase necessary for shaking off the world's angering oppressive nonsense in order to become a happy hermit, a grinning grandpa or a rapturous philosopher-painter in the shed.

The trick of good ripening is to keep the heart warm. This appears to be the great task of old age and rather than closing the doors as we do in winter to keep the house warm, we must open the heart as wide as possible. That's what keeps it warm. Perhaps this is a lifetime's work and it's better to start earlier than later.

It is said that some faculties start to fail or not work so well as we get old. This is obviously so but it may also be discovered that some things start working better than ever. Oldness may compromise eyesight, and usually does, but it can also produce an astonishing capacity for X-ray vision whereby certain funny old folk can see through things very easily.

Seeing through things can bring a certain measure of despair, yet it brings humour, relief and a measure of forgiveness also. Smiling old X-ray visionaries can see through such well-defended things as corporate systems, celebrities, appalling individuals, cultural ways and the juggernauts of ruthless power — and quickly discern the pathos and fear within these entities, and recognise the complex tragedies that created such mad fraudulence. X-ray vision begins by seeing through yourself. Historian Manning Clark may have been referring to this when he asked us to "look with the eye of pity".

It's not a case of old faculties that don't work any more; it's the ways of the world that don't work and don't wash in the old liberated mind. The prestigious earthly power of politics, commerce, art and entertainment becomes an ineffectual transparency. Prime ministers and opposition leaders who are younger than oneself become objects of dismay, pity or amused fascination.

Yet that which is valuable and true remains, and without the obfuscating detritus of cultural claptrap, authenticity shines more clearly than ever.

It's not that cynicism has taken hold; it's more to do with the emergence of a quality we might call "mature innocence". The innocent child sees that the emperor is not wearing clothes but mature innocence sees that this naked person is not even an emperor — and that deep down, nobody is an emperor.

There may be less and less of the temporal world we can subscribe to or take part in as we age — not because of physical incapability, but because we become discerning and spiritually disinclined. Nationalism, religious categories, mass fixations, popular pastimes or collective certitudes: these things may seem like hubris and piffle to an old soul who's had enough of all that and is developing the wings of mature intelligence.

There's a sense in which the wiser of the elders are a sort of dispossessed indigenous people. They have their stories, their own spirituality, their peculiar dignity and ways, which are not greatly valued in the booming imperial world. Material progress has overtaken them, yet there they always are — confronting and in varying degrees of pain, but connected to something sacred and ineffable, and somehow prophetic and disturbing to humanity's remnant conscience.

In preparation for an eagerly awaited concert recently, I decided to refresh my hearing by granting the long-suffering ears some respite from any radio broadcast or recorded sounds for about a week, in the belief that the music from the forthcoming concert would fall like seed on this fallow ground and germinate more joyfully. This may have been a flawed theory derived mostly from childhood and my father's insistence that potatoes could have grown in my ears, but I did it and went about my business in a solitude and silence that grew richer and more delicious as the days passed. A comforting spaciousness gradually opened up and grew around me; an ethereal emptiness alive with an atmosphere of freedom and creativity — not because I got hold of something, but because I got rid of something.

Ripening age probably means, more or less, you've had much of many things, so it's hardly surprising that the joys of solitude and "not having" should present themselves.

Not-having is a skilfulness of being, acquired slowly over a lifetime that has included episodes in the crucible of suffering and sin. This ability naturally helps when it comes eventually to the not-having of life, but while we still live and breathe in a madly overstimulated world of material orgy, it can be such a sumptuous rapture if you can bear it; this peace and freedom you always wanted — that was lying at your feet the whole while.

In spite of having attained some measure of equanimity and spaciousness of mind, the mean wintry face in the mirror still mocks me cruelly. Not quite a bitter prune but a bit too angrily wasted and pinched for my liking.

Who can do it well? Who can ripen like a plum and drop off the twig without too much fuss? It's a work in progress. A nurse I knew came home late one night after her shift at the country hospital. I found her alone in the kitchen making a cup of tea. She was crying.

"Dear old Mr Davison died tonight," she said, smiling at the kettle through her tears. There was a deep faraway silence for a moment and then her simple benediction: "It's OK. It was good." A few more tears. "There are only two ways to die," she said. "The good way and the terrible way." And perhaps there are only two ways to go through winter or grow old.

Source: theage.com.au
Copyright © 2010 Fairfax Media

Illustrative Photo courtesy: The View in Winter

JAPAN: "Every story can have a happy ending. You just have to wait it out!"

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TOKYO, Japan / The Japan Times / Life in Japan / May 27, 2010

WORDS TO LIVE BY

Geisha Chikako Pari

By Judit Kawaguchi

Chikako Pari, whose stage name is Ichizuru, is the last geisha, also known as geiko, of a small town in Kyoto Prefecture. Her unusual last name, Pari — written in kanji — refers to the city of Paris and her French ancestry, although the details of her French great-grandfather's life were never revealed to her. Pari's happy childhood came to an abrupt end at age 12, when she was sold to a geisha house to pay off her father's debts. Though thrown into a vicious cycle of suffering and drama, both in her private life and as an entertainer, the ravishing and exotic Ichizuru managed to turn her situation into art and laughter. Today, she has plenty to smile about: She recently married a police officer who stole her heart 43 years ago, and the couple are still captivated by each other's charms.

Tears are useless. For a week after I was sold, I did nothing but cry. I was in shock at being torn away from my mother. I was just a little country bumpkin who spoke with a thick Osaka dialect, who was dragged and dropped into a gorgeous teahouse in Kyoto and left among cultured women who spoke eloquently, even when they were making fun of me. The ochayasan (teashop master) showed me how to clean the geishas' rooms. I didn't need a bucket of water: I had two waterfalls streaming from my eyes. I could have washed the room with my tears as I moved around, scrubbing and wiping those hard floors.

It's tough for a woman to make it in this world. Women are discriminated against, mistreated and discarded. One needs guts and brains to survive. If a woman has those, she'd better use them to find a strong, wealthy man to stand by her side.

Geisha Chikako Pari  Judit Kawaguchi Photo

Teaching styles change. I was hit a lot. All the sensei (teachers) carried long sticks with them and would whip us when we made mistakes. I'd get a sudden hit on my left wrist when I missed a chord on the shamisen, or a speedy slash on my right foot if I made the wrong move. They were hardest on those who had potential.

Never do anything half-baked!  I was 15 when I had my first show performing the Komori, a dance full of humor. Being on stage was fun, so I decided that if I were to become a geisha, I'd be a good one.

If you owe someone money, they own you: Even if they treat you well, you're their slave. I began accumulating debts at the age of 12. The daily arts lessons, the gorgeous kimono and the beauty regimen were extremely costly. I owed a lot to the ochayasan, and it took me till I was 25 to break even.

Once ties are severed, even when we reconnect, we can never be whole again. After I paid off my debts and was free, I met my parents for the first time. I didn't think of them as my family anymore. I didn't feel any affection for my father. I couldn't respect him. But my mother was lovely. Still, in a distant way, I couldn't help but admire such a beautiful creature.

A woman never asks a man to marry her. When she's fun and attractive, he simply can't help but marry her.

Men who have money are all married — to someone else. I was popular, so I took my time to pick the man I wanted to be with. He turned out to be the president of the best Chirimen kimono company. Of course, he had a family. He spent most of his time and money on me though, so after a few years, it was over. It's always the money that gets in the way.

Once a man takes care of us financially, we like it and feel we owe him. Eventually we love him, as he is good to us. That's how the feelings of a lover are born.

A geisha may sit down on the tatami mat with a client, but it takes a lot more than just words and alcohol to get her into bed. Having sex before a lengthy courtship and many gorgeous presents is not proper for a lady. A man can be close to the prize yet still so far from the goal.

Men will pay more for a woman who doesn't have sex with them. Ojorosan were beautiful prostitutes, yet men were willing to pay three times more for a geisha, who wouldn't have sex with them. Of course, the hope was there.

Prostitutes deserve respect, as they do jobs few people can. On the street, we'd walk behind them, out of respect.

All men are single for a geisha. We never ask about our clients' families.

Humor is the greatest art of a geisha. We make men laugh, and since all our clients are smart, it's not easy to put them into stitches. A woman who can bring about laughter is loved and respected, because to get a repartee going she has to be smart and quick.

Having a very high price tag means picking your own customers. Anyone can pay for a cheap thing. But geisha are a luxury for the superelite. In other words, we geisha pick our own clients and we want the top 1 percent of society. If I am to sit with a man for hours, I want him to be witty, elegant and polite. The rich used to be that way.

Working will help you live a long and healthy life. I love my job so I'm alive and well.

When the time is right, do it right. My husband and I always loved each other, but when we met he had a wife. She lived in Kyoto and he stayed with me here. For 40 years! We didn't want him to get a divorce because his wife deserved a respectable, good life. When she passed away three years ago, we got married. He was 90 then, but still very handsome!

Marriage is better than living alone. I feel happy now. When I was young, I worked hard and things went well, but the war interrupted everything. Now we have enough to eat well and we have each other.

We can't argue if we use polite language. My husband and I use keigo together, it's the most polite form of Japanese expression.

Every story can have a happy ending. You just have to wait it out! [rc]

Judit Kawaguchi loves to listen. She is a volunteer counselor and a TV reporter on NHK's "journeys in japan" Learn more at: http://juditfan.blog58.fc2.com/ Twitter: judittokyo

Seniors World Chronicle has featured several of Judit's interviews of people who give us words to live by. Click here view some
(C) The Japan Times

USA: New Breed of Specialist Steps In for Family Doctor

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NEW YORK, NY / The New York Times / US / May 27, 2010

Dr. Subha Airan-Javia lowered the steroid dosage for Marilyn Lopp, 72,

who has chronic pulmonary disease.  James Estrin/The New York Times

By Jane Gross
 
PHILADELPHIA — By the time Djigui Keita left the hospital for home, his follow-up appointment had been scheduled. Emergency health insurance was arranged until he could apply for public assistance. He knew about changes in his medication — his doctor had found less expensive brands at local pharmacy chains. And Mr. Keita, 35, who had passed out from dehydration, was cautioned to carry spare water bottles in the taxi he drove for a living.

The hourlong briefing the home-bound patient received here at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania was orchestrated by a hospitalist, a member of America’s fastest-growing medical specialty. Over a decade, this breed of physician-administrator has increasingly taken over the care of the hospitalized patient from overburdened family doctors with less and less time to make hospital rounds — or, as in Mr. Keita’s case, when there is no family doctor at all.

Because hospitalists are on top of everything that happens to a patient — from entry through treatment and discharge — they are largely credited with reducing the length of hospital stays by anywhere from 17 to 30 percent, and reducing costs by 13 to 20 percent, according to studies in The Journal of the American Medical Association. As their numbers have grown, from 800 in the 1990s to 30,000 today, medical experts have come to see hospitalists as potential leaders in the transition to the Obama administration’s health care reforms, to be phased in by 2014.

Related
The New Old Age Blog: In Hospitals, New Fingers on the Pulse (May 26, 2010)
A Busy Schedule Is Never Boring (May 27, 2010)

Under the new legislation, hospitals will be penalized for readmissions, medical errors and inefficient operating systems. Avoidable readmissions are the costliest mistakes for the government and the taxpayer, and they now occur for one in five patients, gobbling $17.4 billion of Medicare’s current $102.6 billion budget.

Dr. Subha Airan-Javia is a hospitalist, or physician-administrator, at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia.
James Estrin/The New York Times

Dr. Subha Airan-Javia, Mr. Keita’s hospitalist, splits her time between clinical care and designing computer programs to contain costs and manage staff workflow. The discharge process she walked Mr. Keita and his wife through can work well, or badly, with very different results. Do it safely and the patient gets better. Do it wrong, and he’s back on the hospital doorstep — with a second set of bills.

Dr. Subha Airan-Javia spoke with a patient, Djigui Keita, and handled many details of his care, relieving the burden on family doctors who are pressed for time.
James Estrin/The New York Times

“Where we were headed was not a mystery to anyone immersed in health care,” said P. J. Brennan, the chief medical officer for the University of Pennsylvania’s hospitals. “We were getting paid to have people in the hospital and the part of that which was waste was under the gun. These young doctors, coming into a highly dysfunctional environment, had an affinity for working on processes and redesigning systems.”

But hospitalists are not a panacea. Some have made mistakes when they sent their short-term charges home, failing to pass along necessary information to the regular doctor and family. Another concern is that patients will balk at an unfamiliar doctor at the scariest of times.

Carol Levine, in charge of family caregiving at the United Hospital Fund of New York, remains skeptical that hospitalists will completely smooth the process. “The patient,” she said, “is still expecting a doctor-doctor, when ‘Wait a minute I don’t know you’ is going to take care of them.”

The hospitalist appeared in the early 1990s, before the primary care situation was the crisis it is now. Today’s private internist may carry a roster of more than 2,000 patients, older and sicker than ever before, and the workload is expected to increase 29 percent by 2025. To keep tabs on hospitalized patients, the doctor generally races in, white coat flying, at 7 a.m., when the patient is asleep and the family is not there. (Physicians also earn 40 percent less for time spent with a hospitalized patient than one in the office, according to a report in the journal Health Affairs. )

Mort Miller, 84, of Chicago, was hospitalized eight years ago for a broken hip. He already had congestive heart failure and diabetes and was on dialysis. He died after four weeks.

His son, Joseph, said that he did not once communicate with the family doctor. “He rounded in the morning when I wasn’t there and never returned my phone calls,” Mr. Miller said. “I guess he didn’t have time.”

Mr. Miller left his business to help run the hospitalists’ professional group, the Society of Hospital Medicine, a career change inspired by his father’s experience.

The most compelling argument in favor of hospitalists, who are now in 5,000 institutions, from academic giants like the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania to small community hospitals to innovators like the Mayo and Cleveland Clinics — is that they are there all the time. Another is that they are more comfortable than their predecessors with technology and cost-cutting decision-making. One day in April, Dr. Airan-Javia was in and out of the rooms of a dozen patients, toggling between clinical work and designing a computer system for the safe handoff of patients between residents whose hours are now limited by law.

Bad discharges generally result from hurried instructions to patients and families and little thought to where they are headed. One such situation was the centerpiece of a class taught for doctors at Mount Sinai Medical Center in New York. The patient, an elderly woman in the hospital for scoliosis, a spinal condition, was discharged by a hospitalist on a Friday night, with a prescription for a narcotic pain reliever that her pharmacy, as it turned out, did not stock. No one explained how her new medication differed from the old, or gave her a contact number for help. Without medication, by Tuesday, her ankles swollen and her breathing irregular, the woman was back in the hospital.

In 2008, the hospitalists’ organization decided to invent better discharge systems rather than respond defensively to criticism, not unlike the simple operating room checklist, made famous by the physician and author Atul Gawande, which reduced accidents and deaths.

In 65 participating hospitals around the country, the Society of Hospital Medicine identifies patients at high risk for readmission, provides staff mentoring, and designs user-friendly discharge forms listing follow-up appointments, potential signs of trouble and phone numbers for the hospital team. Peer-reviewed research on the reforms in the system is expected in a year or two.

Even experts who were initially skeptical agree that the hospitalists’ skill set is timely. They are young and thus not entrenched in the current order. They enjoy working in teams, when older doctors tend to be hierarchical. And, like Dr. Airan-Javia, who has a 16-month-old baby, they appreciate the regular hours and a paycheck of, say, $190,000 — higher by $30,000 than community-based peers.

Dr. Airan-Javia says she made an inspired career choice. Forty percent of her time is spent on the floor, treating diseases and helping patients and families though complex life events, like deciding when it is time to suspend medical care and let life end. Sixty percent of the time she is designing systems to improve workflow and advising the hospital’s chief medical officer. At meetings with her fellow hospitalists, phrases seldom spoken by most doctors, like “cost-effective delivery of care,” and “preventable adverse events,” flow off everyone’s tongue: The language of health care reform.

“The tools have never been better,” she said, “for finally getting all of this right."

Copyright 2010 The New York Times Company

AUSTRALIA: Is there fashion past 40?

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SYDNEY, NSW / The Sydney Morning Herald / Life & Style / Fashion / May 27, 2010

There's a telling scene early in Sex and the City 2 when 52-year-old Samantha, played by 53-year-old Kim Cattrall, spots a gold, beaded bustier minidress that she thinks will be perfect for a big red-carpet moment.

The saleswoman is the first doubter. "Is it maybe a little young?" she asks.

On trend ... Sex and the City 2 tackles the fashion dilemmas of middle-age.

Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda have fashion confidence like few others - on film or in real life. But the sequined armor these women wear along with their microminis, harem pants and stiletto heels suffers a few chinks over one issue: Do they dress their age?

Samantha's friends question the minidress, too. But an even more important movie moment is when Samantha rocks the dress, putting conventionalists and teenager Miley Cyrus, who is on the same red carpet in the same dress, in their place.

Throughout the movie the posse parades around in the most au courant clothes, seemingly not deterred at all by the fact that designers often use lithe, lean teenage runway models as muses instead of the 40-plus successful shopaholics the characters now represent.

Some of the outfits are knockouts and incredibly flattering - like the pleated, flame-colored sundress worn by Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) on the beach, and the plunging V-neck gown with metallic studs worn by Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) to a wedding - but there also are the misses........
Fashion gold ... Kim Catrall rocks the red carpet.

...............................................An honest analysis of one's assets - and trouble spots - as well as lifestyle and personal style will get you farther in developing a flattering, appropriate wardrobe than counting birthday candles, say the experts.

"You need to know what parts of your body should be shown off," advises Deborah Lloyd, co-president and creative director of Kate Spade New York.

The actresses in Sex and the City surely work hard at keeping their figures in good shape so they can pull off some daring things, she says, but they also stay true to their characters' fashion personalities.

Highlight your best feature ... Michelle Obama makes a virtue of her toned arms.

Lloyd points to first lady Michelle Obama as an example of a woman who highlights her strengths - those toned arms, in particular - and maintains a youthful, modern look with interesting silhouettes and bright colors, while never trying to dress too young. "Fashion as you get older is about an evolution, not just about changing your look because you're older. You can't get stuck," Lloyd says...............

...women (are) having a more youthful appearance than previous generations at the same age." [rc]

AP

To read the complete version of the report, click here

Copyright © 2010 Fairfax Media

USA: Veteran TV host Art Linkletter dead at 97

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LOS ANGELES, California / Reuters / Entertainment / People / May 27, 2010

Art Linkletter, the genial radio and television host who specialized in getting kids to say "the darndest things," died on Wednesday at age 97, his assistant said.

Television personality Art Linkletter walks through the Hollywood Pictures Backlot at the opening of Disney's California Adventure in Anaheim, California in this February 8, 2001 file photo. Linkletter, the genial television host who specialized in getting kids to say ''the darndest things,'' died on May 26, 2010 at the age of 97, his assistant said. Credit: Reuters/Sam Mircovich/Files

The Canadian-born Linkletter, a mainstay of American broadcasting in the 1950s and '60s with long-running shows like "People Are Funny" and "Art Linkletter's House Party," died of natural causes at his home in Los Angeles' upscale Bel Air community, assistant Jennifer Kramer told Reuters.

His programs sometimes featured conversations with celebrities but emphasized man-in-the-street interviews, interaction with audience members and comic conversations with children.

Linkletter also served as master of ceremonies for opening day at Disneyland in 1955, and returned decades later to officiate at the 50th anniversary celebration of the theme park on his 95th birthday.

Linkletter's famed interviews with youngsters were popularized as a regular segment of his weekday series "House Party," which debuted on radio in 1945 and ran on CBS television from 1952 until 1970.

Playing on the natural guilelessness of his young subjects,Linkletter became a master of eliciting completely candid, occasionally insightful and often hilarious responses from children on topics ranging from history and religion to family relationships and manners.

This produced a number of classic TV moments, such as the 8-year-old boy who told Linkletter, "My mom is going to have a baby but my father doesn't know."

"My art," Linkletter once said, "is getting other people to perform ... People are more interesting to me than anything else."

Decades later, the format was turned briefly into its own prime-time CBS show, "Kids Say the Darndest Things," hosted by Bill Cosby with Linkletter making appearances to present vintage clips from his old "House Party" broadcasts.

"House Party" overlapped for parts of its run with several other Linkletter-hosted shows, most notably the weekly series "People Are Funny," which originated on radio in 1942 and aired on NBC television from 1954 to 1961. It featured members of the studio audience taking part in on-stage gags or stunts.

DAUGHTER'S SUICIDE

In 1969, after the suicide of his daughter Diane was linked to LSD use, Linkletter campaigned against drug abuse. He also traveled the world on behalf of World Vision, a Christian charity, and served as a leader of Goodwill Industries, the Arthritis Foundation and the Los Angeles Orphanage.

He was born Arthur Gordon Kelley on July 17, 1912, in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, but was abandoned by his biological family and adopted by the Linkletter family. His new father was an evangelist who moved the family to California.

He attended San Diego State College with the intention of becoming a teacher but drifted into radio. In 1942, Linkletter moved to Hollywood and launched "People Are Funny" on radio.

He also found wealth as a businessman and investor, becoming involved in oil drilling, copper mining, an Australian sheep ranch, the Hula Hoop toy and the board game "The Game of Life."

With his wife Lois, whom he married in 1935, Linkletter also had two other daughters and a son, Jack, who produced TV programs, and a son Robert, who died in a 1980 automobile accident.

A neighbor and longtime friend, music producer Quincy Jones, remembered Linkletter as "one of the brightest, funniest inspiring and profound people that I have ever known."

"Art would always say, 'Quincy, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans,' and he was right." [rc]

(Editing by Bill Trott and Cynthia Osterman)

© Copyright 2010 Thomson Reuters

CANADA: Nearly one-quarter of Canadians will be seniors by 2036

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TORONTO, Ontario / The Globe and Mail / National / May 27, 2010

Some demographers say much of the concern over the health burden of aging population is inflated, reports Ann Hui

Two Terraces of Baycrest residents share a tender moment at the Terraces

The Globe and Mail

Canadians may be aging, but there’s no need for panic, researchers say.

Nearly a quarter of Canadians will be seniors by 2036, Statistics Canada reported Wednesday. While this is almost double the 13.9 per cent of the population that seniors currently represent, there is no reason to assume they will become a burden on the country’s systems, some experts say.

In February, Parliamentary Budget Officer Kevin Page released a report warning that elderly benefits and health-care costs associated with aging will require Ottawa to hike taxes or cut spending by at least $20-billion over the coming decade.

But some demographers say that much of the concern is inflated.

“There’s no need to panic,” said Susan McDaniel, Prentice research chair in global population at the University of Lethbridge. “Some of the mistake is that people, including policy people, see people who are 85 needing health care now, therefore thinking that people 20 years from now will need the same thing. But people who are 85 now were born in a time when smoking was chic, they sometimes went through the Depression – they’re an entirely different person.”

The Canadian Institute for Health Information released a report last year detailing the cost of different age groups to the health-care system. The average spending for a person between age one and 64 was less than $3,809 a year, compared with $17,469 for a person over 80. But these numbers reflect the elderly today, said Ms. McDaniel, and are not indicative of the lifestyles of baby boomers and those who will be entering retirement in 2036.

Siloni Waraich, a corporate communications manager, is 36, but will be approaching retirement by 2036.

“I think every generation goes through the ‘We’ll definitely not be like our parents,’ ” she said. “But I honestly believe that, because we’re going to be a lot more active and healthier at a later age.”

Not only are the future elderly not going to be a drain on the system, they also will be contributing, productive members of the economy, said Monica Boyd, professor of sociology at the University of Toronto.

Many elderly people are choosing not to retire right away, she said, and many are able to work until they’re much older as jobs move from labour-based to technology-based.

Even many of today’s elderly citizens are living lifestyles completely unlike those of previous generations. Connie Daxon, 86, lives in her own condo in Toronto, volunteers regularly, and walks daily to nearby Bloor West Village. “I go out all the time,” she said. “I walk, I jump on buses – the same sort of thing I’ve always done.”

John Cravit, vice-president of Zoomer Media, a media company aimed at the over 50 population, calls those like Ms. Daxon “the new old,” saying they’re a group insistent on self-reliance.

Those who are 65 now, he said, have a 50-per-cent chance of living to the age of 90. Because of this, Mr. Cravit said, “You’re not going to be sitting passively on the sideline, waiting for crumbs from an active society.” [rc]

© Copyright 2010 CTVglobemedia Publishing Inc.

JAPAN: Landscape gardener, 57, plants seeds of friendship

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TOKYO, Japan / The Japan Times / News / May 27, 2010

Bangladeshi's deportation sparks cultural exchanges

By Ryota Wakamatsu, Kyodo News

MOBARA, Chiba Prefecture. — When immigration authorities deported Md Tarique six years ago, landscape gardener Masao Sekiya lost an assistant and gained a mission: fostering friendship between Bangladesh and Japan.

Sekiya met Tarique in 1994 and hired him to work in his landscaping business even though he knew the Bangladeshi had overstayed his visa.

The 57-year-old Sekiya admits it was wrong to put Tarique on the payroll but felt treating the man from Dhaka with compassion took precedence over the law.

"I taught him a great deal of the business because he is an honest man," Sekiya said, adding he took him on job assignments from his company in Mobara, Chiba Prefecture, to places like Ishikawa and Aichi prefectures.

Footloose: Masao Sekiya looks at one of his art pieces at his home in Mobara, Chiba Prefecture last month. Kyodo Photo

At the time Sekiya hired the Bangladeshi, now 47, he was busy with such projects as building log cabins and expanding his landscape gardening business to include selling housing lots with garden plots.

Work also involved erecting tombstones, waterworks and some hard, dirty and dangerous tasks. Tarique worked diligently, though he was ever fearful that the authorities could arrest him at any time.

However, orders began to decline and Sekiya was on the verge of bankruptcy, buried under ¥2 billion in debt.

Sekiya said Tarique was "my spiritual supporter when more and more people walked out on me." He also said he was encouraged by Tarique's positive attitude on life.

Tarique received ¥10,000 a day, the same as his Japanese colleagues. He went to the Tokyo Regional Immigration Bureau in 2004 to seek a special permit and Sekiya was there to support him.

The number of foreigners overstaying their visa declined from about 219,000 in 2005 to about 113,000 in 2009 following a government crackdown. The number of illegal entrants dropped from an estimated 30,000 to anywhere from 15,000 to 23,000 in the same period. Sekiya pleaded with the authorities to allow Tarique to stay, pointing to "his enduring and hard work that would be of help to the country." It did no good. Tarique was sent back to Bangladesh.

He now works in an office with a desk, chairs and a personal computer in a Dhaka building stained light brown by car exhaust and dust.

"I thought if he couldn't stay in Japan, I should set up what amounts to my company's branch in Dhaka to create a job for him," Sekiya said. "He speaks Japanese well and he can serve as a coordinator to pass on our orders to fellow Bangladeshis."

Sekiya ordered samples of fences and bamboo products for gardens, but he found the items he received from Tarique were inferior and couldn't be sold here.

So he focused instead on cultural and spiritual interchanges rather than importing goods, thinking that low-priced merchandise from Bangladesh couldn't compete with products manufactured in China.

In April, Sekiya set up a project team comprising Dhaka University students majoring in fine arts and musicians, with Tarique serving as its leader. His plan is to hold concerts and make art objects.

He puts emphasis on manufacturing products in the shape of a human foot, based on his belief that strong feet and hips are the basis of good health.

Tarique "says he often remembers Japan when he goes to bed," Sekiya said. "He tells me of fond memories about Japan. I want him to become a bridge of friendship between the two countries." [rc]

(C) The Japan Times

UK: Plan to link retirement age to life expectancy

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LONDON, England / The Times / News / Politics/ May 27, 2010

By Rosemary Bennett, Jill Sherman and Sam Coates

Plans to link retirement age to life expectancy are being studied by the man in charge of welfare reform.

Iain Duncan Smith, the Work and Pensions Secretary, signalled that he thought longer retirement periods were bad for the economy. The Government has already begun an inquiry into raising the retirement age to 66 not sooner than 2016 for men, and 2020 for women.

“It is an absolute imperative to start moving that retirement age up,” said Mr Duncan Smith, seeing it as attractive to link the state retirement age to rising life expectancy. “Ultimately, governments should head to that sort of process, which is rather like the link between benefits and RPI inflation.”

In an interview with The Spectator, he said that he wanted to “get rid of this statutory retirement age, which is a ridiculous nonsense, because people are going to have to work longer”. Mr Duncan Smith has also asked officials to “see how far they can get” in replacing 51 benefits, from disability to housing, with a single, flexible benefit for those of working age to ensure that those moving from unemployment into a job will always be better off.

He will outline his vision of a “21st-century welfare system” in his first speech on the subject in London today. But he will also acknowledge that spending cuts mean his initial proposals to spend more up front to make future savings may have to wait.

Mr Duncan Smith’s original reform proposals, drawn up in opposition, were costed at £3.6 billion over the Parliament, but are now highly unlikely to receive Treasury backing.

This means that some groups could see benefits cut dramatically. Experts say that the 37,000 lone parents who work 16 hours a week — where tax credits are the most generous — may be among those hit to pay for the changes.

But given that most spending departments will be cut by about 20 per cent in the next five years, Mr Duncan Smith may also be forced to look at means-testing universal benefits such as child benefit, disability allowance and attendance allowance to make his figures add up in the short term.

Freezing most benefits for a year or two is also being examined by the Treasury, which would save between £4 billion and £5 billion annually, and £25 billion if extended across the Parliament. The total welfare bill, which is now more than £200 billion including tax credits, has more than doubled since 1997.

Mr Duncan Smith will say in his speech today that he is not interested in making piecemeal reforms. “A system that was originally designed to help support the poorest in society is now trapping them in the very condition it was supposed to alleviate.

“We must not underestimate the challenge ahead. One of the biggest problems is that, for too many people, work simply does not pay. For many people, the move from welfare into work means they face losing more than 95 pence for every additional £1 they earn,” he will say.

“As a result, the poor are being taxed at an effective tax rate that far exceeds the wealthy. We have in effect taken away the reward and left people with the risk. That must and will change.”

One official from the Department for Work and Pensions told The Times that developing a single universal benefit was “very much the direction of travel”.

“It has long been a goal of reformers to try and achieve this. He wants to see how far we can get,” the official said.

Under current rules, those moving from income support to jobseeker’s allowance or into work can find that they suddenly lose not only almost all their housing and council tax benefit, but a range of other entitlements such as free school meals and school-trip subsidies, while they are still on very low rates of pay.

Mr Duncan Smith will say that creating one benefit would allow a far smoother transition, with these cost-of-living benefits being reduced more gradually.

“Instead of helping, a deeply unfair benefits system too often writes people off,” he will say.

He will also publish a “poverty audit” with the latest figures and analyses on the problem. One section will examine how 1.4 million people have been on an out-of-work benefit for nine or more of the past ten years.

The Tories’ programme to scrap Labour’s New Deal welfare programmes, and replace them with a single scheme operated largely by the private sector, will on its own cost £600 million over three years. Mr Duncan Smith is expected to give further details of the new programme today, but there are said to be some tensions over the scale of the sanctions proposed.

The Conservative manifesto said that, under the scheme, those who repeatedly refused jobs would lose their right to benefit for three years.[rc]

Copyright 2010 Times Newspapers Ltd.

UK: Leicester nursing home failings 'led to death'

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LEICESTER, England / BBC News / May 26, 2010

Failings by staff at a Leicester nursing home led to the premature death of a resident, a coroner has said.

Joyce Mason, 86, would have survived if staff at Braunstone Firlands Care Centre had admitted her to hospital earlier, an inquest found.

Mrs Mason's health deteriorated during her three weeks as a resident at the care home, the inquest heard.

Owners Prime Life said an internal review would take place. The inquest found Mrs Mason died of natural causes.

Coroner Catherine Mason said there were at least three separate occasions on which Mrs Mason, who had dementia and a heart condition, could, and should, have been admitted to hospital before she died in April 2009.

Notes unavailable: The high standard of record keeping and delivery of care the family should have received "did not happen", the inquest heard.

The coroner added: "If she had, on the balance of probabilities, she would have survived.

"The elderly deserve the right to be treated with respect, dignity and care. In the case of Mrs Mason, that simply didn't happen."

Mrs Mason was not checked for hours at a time, she was not registered with a local GP and her notes were not available, the inquest heard.

Mrs Mason's son Philip said: "We put our mother into care with people we thought we could trust and they let us down completely."

A spokesman for care home owners Prime Life said: "The inquest into the cause of death has concluded that Mrs Mason died of natural causes, however, Prime Life will now consider the detailed findings contained within the coroner's report to review the matter internally." [rc]

© BBC MMX

UK: Living in the countryside 'can add two years to life'

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LONDON, England / The Telegraph / Health News / May 26, 2010

Living in the countryside can lead to a longer life, a new analysis suggests

By Kate Devlin, Medical Correspondent

Researchers found that people in rural areas tended to live for around two years longer than town dwellers.

Experts said that clean air, green space and availability of exercise could all contribute to greater longevity.

But they also credited increasing “gentrification” of the countryside, in which more affluent people move to rural areas, as one reason such communities might be expected to live longer.

The analysis, commissioned by the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra) took a snapshot of life expectancy between 2001 and 2007.

It found that on average rural men could expect to live until they were around 77 and a half, more than two years longer than men who lived in towns.

However, the benefits of countryside living were not as great for women, the study found.

Although they could expect to live until the ripe age of almost 82 and a half, women in urban areas lived to an average of 81 years of age. [rc]

© Copyright of Telegraph Media Group Limited 2010

IRELAND: Confessions of a working mother

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BELFAST, Ireland / Belfast Telegraph / Life & Style / BT Woman / May 26, 2010

Confessions of a working mother:

The debt that we all owe to grandparents

By Karen Ireland

I lost all my family to the lure of the great outdoors over the weekend as the tent went up and the sleeping bags came out.

The fantastic weather saw my three children and the biggest child of all, my husband, have their first camping adventure of the season — in the back garden.

Karen Ireland's Earlier confession:
March 3, 2010

Beached: An unusual appearance of snow at the seaside in Ballycastle, part of the patch of bad weather that hit our shores

I must admit as I went out to say goodnight to them part of me thought “if you can’t beat join ‘em” but my bed was too close and too alluring so I tucked them all in and headed for my close-by home comforts.

As I headed inside on my own I had one of those moments that happens to all parents (well I hope it does) at some stage when I thought — how did I suddenly become a mum to three maturing boys at six, eight and 10; how did that happen?

Sometimes this just happens and your heart feels like it is going to burst as you realise the enormity of parenting but also the speed with which it whizzes you by.

I started to think about the amount of support and help I have had in getting them thus far. (Being in the house on your own in the silence obviously gives you a lot of contemplating time).

I think this was semi instigated by an item on the news last week about the increasing role of grandparents in the upbringing of modern families that struck a real chord with me as well as serving to infuriate me somewhat.

The item was discussing this increasing role but also the conflict that can arise due to difference of opinion of parenting methods.

It doesn’t take Super Nanny to realise that different generations are going to differ in their outlook on how things should be done.

But as mums were being interviewed and giving off about how granny spoils wee Jimmy and gives into his every whim or feeds him too many sweets or fusses too much over what he has to eat while the parents are off working, I wanted to scream at the television that they should be grateful they have young and active grandparents who are willing to help. It frustrates me that parents who have never had to pay for a day’s childcare in their working lives often take it for granted.

My mum took ill when Jesse who is now 10, was just 10 months old. She passed away when he was just a year and from that point until this year when I have scaled back my work commitments to try to work around the boys, we have always paid for childcare and it is an expensive business.

However my recent illness and subsequent surgery found we were in need of childcare as I couldn’t drive or do the school runs for several weeks — a quick straw poll of local nurseries revealed afterschool care was going to cost us £200 a week to have the three of them collected from school and looked after until Tom got back from work.

This just wasn’t a viable option for us — so what did we do? Call on reliable and dependable grandparents. I’ve said before in this column that I hate asking Tom’s parents for childcare as with eight grandchildren I feel it isn’t fair to ask them to single some out and help them more than others.

However this was one of those needs must situations when we didn’t have much choice. My in-laws were wonderful during my enforced confinement. Not only did they pick up and look after the boys for several weeks — they also helped out with homeworks and ensured we were all fed and watered during this time.

Did they do it to my exacting standards? No they didn’t! But that’s because they did it much better — the boys came home to home-made pancakes every day, had lots of treats and proper dinners and yes, were spoilt rotten.

But is that not the beauty of having grandparents? And for one I am ever grateful for the help and support they provided.

Now that I am back driving again normal services are set to be resumed and I know the boys are disappointed they won’t be going to nanny’s for pancakes every day.

Instead, it will be back to the homework task master and back to fish fingers and waffles for tea.

So in the quiet at the weekend — I realised that we have got this far because when we have needed it we have always had help and support and that is something I hope I never take for granted. [rc]

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