Acknowledgments

Preface

1 Mischievous Seniors?

2 Germinating an Idea

3 Turning Vegetables into Flowers -

Creating a Community Garden

4 The Kush Doctor Comes to Town

5 The Great Debate Begins –

Reefer Madness vs. Science

6 The Great Debate Climaxes -

Ganjapreneurs: To Be Or Not To Be?

7 Finding Cash to Grow the Crop –

The Most Unlikely Investors Bankroll Us

8 Dinner Theater Saves the Restaurant

9 Our Secret Underground Cavern

Yields Unexpected Benefits

10 Seniors Strut Their Stuff –

Circus, Cowboy Action Shooting, etc.

11 The Magical Mystical Experience –

The Woodstock Bus Rolls Again!

12 Getting Mellow –

Is it Time to Get Naked?

13 Feed your Head –

Reaching New Intellectual Highs

14 Mission Accomplished?

15 Residents' Reactions

Yiddish Dictionary

About the Authors

**************

PREFACE

Faced with a major loss of services, daring seniors throw caution to the wind and embrace ganjapreneurship. Einstein Meadows teeters on the cliff of bankruptcy soon after Ned and Nancy arrive. However, through the couple’s youthful energy and initiatives, this southwestern enclave now enjoys success. Today, less than three years later, the community is 100 percent full. Einstein Meadows now benefits from a waiting list of buyers and no Homeowners Association dues.

So how does a neighborhood go from stagnation to rejuvenation in such a short time? We invite you to join us on an incredible adventure, which was a life-altering experience. Moving to a new neighborhood can have many unexpected consequences – none of which are easily predictable from reading typical retirement guides. But, this is fiction and anything can happen at Einstein Meadows!

Sometimes finding the right location has very little to do with the climate. It’s not just where in the world you want to be – or what type of dwelling you desire – it might come down to who lives next door or down the street. Retirement communities make many promises in their advertisements and especially when you first visit. Einstein Meadows offered the possibility of a university culture transplanted into suburbia--that sounded great to us. After all, who needs a golf course when you can have equestrian trails?

We humbly offer a cautionary, albeit fictional tale about what might lie beyond the entrance gates of your new community. We recognize that many people are afraid of change and attempt to mandate conformity. Perhaps you share this belief, especially if you already live in a retirement community and have sat through board meetings where the officials were meditating on whether a flea has a belly button or making an elephant out of a fly.

In our travels, we heard so many laments about senior developments that we decided to write a story that demonstrates that change is possible and that there are always healthier paths. You could think of this novel as a fanciful and humorous look at retirement neighborhoods.

Although you probably read silently, this book is great fun to read out loud with a group of friends. They can spontaneously adapt to the different characters’ voices, and turn any party into a happening. We liberally sprinkled Yiddish words throughout the book, and they really enhance the oral reading experience. These colorful expressions are fun to use in everyday life. We define them in the Yiddish dictionary at the end of the book. If you're not sure how to pronounce the words, just say them with confidence and plenty of feeling. And if you can clear your throat spontaneously, so much the better! You might want to watch movies starring Woody Allen, Mel Brooks or Gene Wilder to perfect your delivery. Hey, impress your friends, surprise your enemies and most of all have fun.

As the wise man says, the journey begins when you turn the page….

Happy Trails!

***************

CHAPTER 1 — MISCHIEVOUS SENIORS?

While my wife Nancy and I were enjoying the weekly wine and cheese hour at Einstein Meadows soon after we moved in, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. It was Bella Blozkop, our single and vivacious neighbor. She leaned in close and whispered in my ear.

Bella: "Nancy just told me that you love a great story. Have I ever got a hot one for you. Let's walk over to the corner so I can tell you in private. I don't want anyone to overhear me revealing our neighborhood's dark secrets to a new resident."

Ned: "Sure thing, Bella. But let me refill my glass first."

Bella: "A month before you and Nancy arrived, everyone received a note in their mailboxes on official letterhead from the Aging with Acumen Center stating that there would be a workshop on erectile dysfunction since this was a common problem with seniors. The memo said to expect partner swapping strictly for medical purposes and community members were encouraged to participate with their spouses.”

Ned: “Wow! Did you go?”

Bella: “Of course! Imagine the possibilities. We were all very excited and there was a large group gathered in the activity room. But it turned out to be an April Fool’s joke by Wild Cowboy Bill.”

Ned: “What a disappointment! I've already met three different Bills in this community. Who is Cowboy Bill?”

Bella: “He’s the neighborhood prankster and he struck again!"

OK, you’re saying every group has its secrets. And, perhaps some of us become more gullible as we age. I prefer to think my neighbors were intellectually curious and/or just plain horny! Especially, since 45 people showed up out of the 180 residents.

What Bella didn't know is that Nancy and I had met Bill the previous year. In fact, he was one of the reasons we moved into Einstein Meadows. Although I hadn't heard his nickname or this story, I already knew Bill had quite the reputation. He was a tall, handsome man with a John Wayne build. He always wore a suede Stetson and sported a western string necktie. He strutted around in alligator boots with noisy spurs and drove a huge diesel pickup. His two white-pearl handled, nickel-plated six-guns were hard to miss. It was legal to carry loaded weapons in our state, except of course in government buildings -- bars, banks and vegan restaurants were fine. However, what most new Einstein Meadowites or guests didn't know is that Bill would control raucous meetings by firing some bullets into the air. Everyone assumed the bullets were blanks; nevertheless, they usually had a silencing effect!

Bill took me under his wing since I was the only New Yorker in the neighborhood. Plus, he had heard that no one had stepped forward to be our mentors; nor were we interviewed, photographed or given a write-up in the traditional "Meet Your Neighbors" column in the monthly newsletter. He asserted that it might be wise for me to learn the ways of the West. He proved his point one day when we were walking through a trail in the wash and surprised a rattlesnake.

Cowboy Bill: (handing me one of his six-guns) “Show me what you’ve got."

Ned: “It isn’t loaded!”

Cowboy Bill: “If I were you, I’d shoot that bad boy before he bites. It’s a long drive to the hospital and you may not make it.”

Well I blew that snake's head right off, and I thought so much for all blanks in the six-guns!

Cowboy Bill: “Nice shot. I couldn’t have done any better myself. I think you’re ready to sign up for the NRA. It’s time to lose your liberal ways and start buying weapons. This part of the southwest is still frontier territory. The NRA could stand to have some sensible Democrats in the membership ranks – perhaps you could be the first.”

Of course, I didn’t own any guns at the time. So this was a tall order for a skinny Jewish guy from Brooklyn. Now I own nine! Maybe we will get to that later. OK, back to the story!

We had moved into a unique southwestern development. Einstein Meadows advertised itself as an active 55+ community with a focus on continuing learning. A trio of former professors (aka the Three Amigos) created Einstein Meadows as an exclusive enclave for retired educators. Through the university connections of the Three Amigos, every resident received full access to the university library and other typical staff/student perks including discounted admission to concerts, lectures and special exhibits.

Einstein Meadows was part of a 3,000-acre ranch in a box canyon with beautiful adobe structures surrounded by impressive mountains. The Meadowites seemed friendly, and it was very quiet since the working part of the ranch was a quarter of a mile away. Everyone was welcoming when Nancy and I visited. The weekly concerts were wonderful and the pool, hot tub, tennis court and gym were usually empty. All of the residents could ride beautiful horses for free, and it was fun to see so many Gray Panthers trotting around the neighborhood.

So, you are probably thinking what a wonderful neighborhood with some truly special attributes, right? Wrong! Nancy and I later learned that the locals and county officials called the residents "academentians" and referred to the ranch as "Rancho sin Saykhel." If anyone had mentioned this name, we might have thought twice before we bought our house.

Since I had been an adjunct instructor, it never occurred to us that transplanting academia to suburbia wasn’t necessarily a good idea. When the educators relocated to Einstein Meadows, they brought all of their old baggage full of intrigue, power grabs, endless backstabbing, insecurity and one-upmanship so prevalent in their prior work settings.

Nancy and I ignored other red flags. We were among the youngest people at Einstein Meadows; only five percent of our neighbors were under 60. And, committees ran the place with the developer Scott Gonzaga holding the deciding vote. However, Scott was awestruck by the academics, and had a much lower IQ. What normal person enjoys committees? For some of these control freaks, Viagra would be a better choice.

The year after we moved in, the economy sank. The Homeowners Association (HOA) board reduced the pool and restaurant hours and began to charge for the horseback rides. Many people wondered how the homeowners’ dues would be enough to keep everything maintained. Those who tried to sell their houses could not and people became very angry and depressed. The younger folks even started singing lyrics from the famous Eagles’ rock song “Hotel California." The closing verse seemed to be everyone’s favorite: “Relax, said the night man. We are programmed to receive. You can check out any time you like, but, you can never leave!”

Have you ever experienced buyer's remorse? You are not alone. Wow! I can't believe we made such a foolish decision. It all seemed so perfect in the beginning; if only we had listened to our real estate agent who suggested we rent first. However, Nancy and I were not about to throw in the towel. We had just spent over $350,000 on our dream winter retreat.

The stage was set for some drama. Out of the blue, a new resident appeared to give even Cowboy Bill some competition. Going by the pen name “Captain Anonymous," this secret do-gooder started placing “Dear Neighbors” letters in community center mailboxes. He called for a more thorough review of the budget decisions and questionable practices of the HOA board.

Dear Neighbors,

It's time to wake up -- this HOA board needs a shakeup. Let's make the board accountable; that's not insurmountable. Demand one vote per house; our dues are already too high. Just because their egos are weak doesn't mean we have to be meek. And to board members who don't comply, let's wave goodbye.

Yours truly, Captain Anonymous

This really drove some board members wild. Who would dare to question their Ivory Tower authority? Well, I wish I could describe him - or her - for Captain Anonymous could very well be a woman -- no one knows for sure. Some even suspected the new New Yorker. The mystery continues!

Everyone figured that with so many Ph.D.’s, Ed.D.’s, J.D.’s, a few M.D.’s, a DOM and one Psy.D., surely we could come up with an answer to our financial straits. Additional working groups addressed marketing, but nothing seemed to change. Then a remarkable turnaround began. Today, less than three years later, Einstein Meadows has a waiting list of buyers. You are probably surprised by this transformation and wonder how this could be possible. Well at Einstein Meadows, it would seem nothing is impossible. Let’s see what transpired.

***************

CHAPTER 2 — GERMINATING AN IDEA

So how do you turn around a failing and dysfunctional community that advertises itself as a great spot to age in place while, in reality, it is rotting in place? Well, you harness the talents and resources of all of the people in ways that break their nonproductive patterns of behavior.

Since I was a recently retired psychologist and Nancy was an experienced Master Gardener, we decided to contribute these skills, although we wouldn’t make any money. We hoped that we could at least preserve our foolish investment.

The idea was to get people to work collaboratively. Several thoughtful neighbors agreed with us that many seniors are adverse to conflict, so we wanted to find something that would be helpful and empowering without making people uncomfortable. We weren’t willing to accept the adage that "you can’t teach an old dog new tricks". The question was where to start. And then something strange happened.

One night right before bedtime, Nancy and I asked each other “the miracle question." If we woke up the following morning and all of the problems at Einstein Meadows were resolved, what would it be like? How would we know it? How would others notice the difference?

We fell asleep before we could formulate an answer. During the night, I heard Dr. Freud addressing me while I lay on his couch.

Dr. Freud: “Dr. E., I am astounded that a licensed psychologist could move into such a fercockt neighborhood. For Pete’s sake, you got two research-based doctorates, not one of those lichtgewicht Psy.D.’s, and this is the best you could do? Didn’t you notice all the German names on the board and committees? I looked at the local directory; there are not even enough Jewish men for a minyan. Oy gevalt! Not only are they biased, but they suffer from analysis paralysis – they are even more clinical than I am and they don’t have the credentials.”

Dr. Freud continued his monologue. (I wondered why he didn't have his pad. I would have liked to see his notes - or were they doodles).

Dr. Freud: “OK, you are a licensed, board-certified psychologist, what are you going to do about it?”

Ned: “It’s not my responsibility to cure this place.”

Dr. Freud: “Of course it is! It is your obligation to perform a mitzvah a day. No one else is qualified. I’m dead and you have to do it or you will get NO sleep.”

Unbelievably, when I awoke the next morning I had a clear idea of what the miracle would look like. Keep reading to see it in its entirety. Now, I know the skeptics among you may say this was just a dream. Are you curious to know whether Nancy and I could bring about change on a grand scale? Please, fasten your seatbelt, hold onto your hat and come along for the ride.

We hear you laughing and we know you want to read more.

So, keep up the momentum and read the introduction to the sequel below.

Then click on the Order Books tab! You can order both books and save money.

CHAPTER 1–

Welcome Back To Einstein Meadows

Welcome to the sequel of Einstein Meadows: The Unspoken Perils & Thrills of Living in a Retirement Community. If you read the first novel, you are probably wondering what’s happening now. Are the Meadowites (Einstonians) still smoking, getting naked and feeling frisky? Of course! In this novel, you will discover that medicinal marijuana leads to enlightenment for the denizens of this wild, wacky, and unpredictable neighborhood.

So, who lives in the Meadows? We will start with Dr. Freud. Not to be confused with the internationally famous father of psychoanalysis. Our Dr. Freud stepped out from a parallel universe after Ned challenged one of the community’s Nobel Laureate physicists to create a vortex. How’s that for the power of intention? In our novel, Dr. Freud has hung up his diploma as well as most, but not all, of his undergarments. He replaced his cigar with an authentic peace pipe. Black socks and a bow tie are still de rigueur. Dr. Freud always likes to have the last word. (There are some who think this is a cultural trait.)

Dr. Freud: You two have some chutzpah by writing a sequel to Einstein Meadows without giving me the last word in your first novel. Where is your respect for elders? You should be ashamed. What would your parents say?”

Nancy & Ned: (in unison) “It’s our novel and we decide who gets to speak!”

OK enough of the foreshadowing! It occurs to us that you our paying customer may not have read our first novel, or may have already forgotten it. (Of course, that would be very hard to believe, unless you are seniors like us.) Therefore, you may not be aware of how the residents of Einstein Meadows liberated themselves or even who they are.

Here is a brief synopsis of the novel that inspired this genuine sequel. (But you should still buy the original.) Einstein Meadows: The Unspoken Perils & Thrills of Living in a Retirement Community relates the incredible adventures of a group of clueless seniors, and how we shepherded them to the promised land. After much kicking and screaming, the retired academics eventually saw the wisdom of becoming growers and sellers of medicinal marijuana. We affectionately called them ganjapreneurs or Einstonians.

The weed transformed most, but not all, of the residents by freeing them from financial and emotional constraints. Aside from making piles of money, the Einstein Meadowites evolved into better functioning, more fulfilled people. They rode around town in a Woodstock bus, hosted transgender weddings, got naked and generally had a good time. Now, we know that some of you may think we stretched the truth a bit. As strange as it may seem, our story is mostly true, somewhat true, or at least partially true. We let our readers decide.

As some of you may know, consuming weed often spurs creativity, makes it easier to write satire, and helps folks see life in a new perspective. The Einstonians were no exception. Since we were all advancing in age, it occurred to us that we should start to keep records of our epiphanies lest we lose them to our slowly fading memories. What epiphanies you ask. In the last three years, our formerly staid academentians gained epic amounts of collective wisdom. Thus, in the spirit of bettering the world, in this novel we will reveal some of our neighbors’ more high-minded nuggets. Just because we were all getting older doesn’t mean we have to resign ourselves to the harsh realities of life or hide in a basement bunker like some presential candidate.

We know the Einstonians are better than that, especially since they are already living an enhanced life. The journey is always easier when you do not have too much baggage. And, we are naked! Plus, the sacred plant is keeping everyone’s memories intact and our reasoning as sharp as a rusty nail.

Turn the page and we will share the 10 epiphanies that our stoned and naked seniors discover. Remember, marijuana leads to enlightenment! By spending more time at Einstein Meadows, you will discover how the denizens are no longer wearing out their britches or the soles of their shoes.

Nancy: “That’s because they are mostly naked and barefoot.”

Dr. Freud: “Yes, but you can still benefit from their insights. There is plenty to learn from your high wattage neighbors.”

Mystery voice: “And, what about their collective unconscious?”

Who knew that after Einstein Meadows reached full build-out we would still have such hullabaloos? If you thought the Great Marijuana Debate (which we featured in our first novel) was ridiculous, wait until you read this. Our neighbors created a rigorous screening procedure so posers wouldn’t invade the community.

If nothing else, the Einstonians were consistent. Not wanting to be impulsive (as if!!), they weighed all the pros and cons of every issue. That’s why Dr. Freud continues to call them the mental masturbators of the universe. Scott Gonzaga, the developer of Einstein Meadows, convened a task force which solicited questions from everyone in the neighborhood. He then scheduled a meeting of the Sustainable Growth and Development (SG&D) Committee to present our neighbors’ questions. As you would expect, some of the questions were outrageous not to mention downright illegal.

As people enter the Ponderosa Room, Brunnhilde puts “Long Time Coming” by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young on the CD player; and then shares marijuana-infused soda. Jeannette Gedankenlos brought bagels with marijuana butter to spread on them - a new and welcome twist to the traditional New York ‘schmear’.

Ben Chardonnay: “Do you have any wine to go with these delicious treats?”

Brunnhilde: “It is only 10 o’clock in the morning and today is Sunday, Ben. You know, we can’t serve alcohol until noon.”

Scott: “It’s been a while since I’ve attended a meeting. Now, I see why you folks accomplish more these days. Pass me a bagel, please. And would you spread some magic butter on it?

Jeannette Gedankenlos: “As our resident psychologist, I think we should have some common agreement about what types of people we’d like to have and, even more importantly, not have as our neighbors.”

Ned: “Excuse me lady, but you aren’t the only licensed clinician here.”

Jeannette: “Dr. E., I know you are licensed and board certified, but after all, you’ve been retired for more than a dozen years.”

Dr. Freud (whispering in Ned’s ear): “She’s a real piece of work. It took that loser three times to pass the exam.”

Ned: “At least I passed the licensing exam the first time. I think we should ask everyone here what they would like to see.”

El Sabio: “I’d like to see lots of naked bodies.”

Brunnhilde: “Who said that?”

Dr. Freud: “I think there must be a ventriloquist among us.”

El Sabio: “That would be me dummkopf.”

Suddenly El Sabio becomes visible. El Sabio is a chihuahua with gray hair on his chest. He wears round glasses and has very expressive eyes, which you can’t always see under his huge sombrero. Plus, he can make himself invisible when the mood strikes.

. . .

Reverend Vernon Verschwender: “And, we need to make sure we don’t let in any of those folks with the You-Know-Who Derangement Syndrome that the reliable reporters on the ‘Fair and Balanced’ network are always talking about.”

Brother Gunther Shaygetz: “Holy smokes, no! That’s all we need. As if we don’t have enough idiots from New York here already!”

Zachariah Denker: “Let’s be scientific and just ask the applicants which network they rely on for news.”

Ned: “Yeah, I don’t think the folks who watch the Comical News Network will fit in here since we all own guns and like to wear them even when we are naked.”

Brunnhilde: (waving her gavel, and taking a bite of a bagel) “Enough. You folks take off on more tangents than our so-called representatives from Congress.”

Heckler: “I think we need a regime change. It’s time for a revolution!”

Reverend Vernon: (under his breath): “I knew we should have seceded.”

Heckler: “Can I have an amen? The South will rise again!”

Dr. Freud: “It sounds like you’re setting up some sort of quotas; that’s too restrictive. I’m sure most of the Einstonians already here would not meet these new standards.”

Ben: “You bet it’s restrictive. We’re rolling in such a pile of bucks from the grow that we must be a little choosy. We all share in the profits, and there should be a limit to our largesse.”

. . .

Nancy: “Let’s concentrate on reviewing the proposed questions, then invite the entire community to vote on the application.”

Reverend Vernon: “Since when did this neighborhood become a democracy? I thought this was an oligarchy, albeit half-baked at times. Why would we give the rabble any decision-making ability, especially you New Yorkers from our low-rent district?”

Nancy and Ned: (jumping up to sway arm in arm and sing) “These little town blues are melting away. We’ll make a brand-new start of it in old New York. If we can make it there, we’ll make it anywhere. It’s up to you New York New York. Dot dot dota dah. Dot dot dota dah…”

Song fades away. Ned and Nancy continue to sway for a few more beats, hug and smooch, then take their seats.

Brunnhilde: “OK, let’s whittle down this mishmash of neighborhood questions to the top 20.”

The community rejected three of Jeannette’s favorite questions: Were you breast-fed? If yes, what age were you finally weaned? What age were you toilet trained?

Buford Swindler: “Hold on. What about an application fee?”

Reverend Vernon: “That’s easy. $10,000.”

Ray: “Whoa, Reverend! That is extreme, but completely reasonable considering what we offer. Be aware, however, that under the Fair Housing Act, we must refund the fee if we nix the applicants.”

Buford: “Just make sure we hold on to the application fee long enough to earn interest.

Ned: “If this application is an example of being enlightened, I am truly frightened!”

Jeannette: “With all due respect, that’s bupkes.”

Dr. Freud: “Vaht?? I’m not sure I understand your meaning. Please clarify.”

Reverend Vernon: “I think we should try it out. What do we have to lose? Who cares if they are offended?”

Ben: “I’ll drink to that. Wait a minute; I’ll vape to that. Ray, pass the pocket-sized peace pipe please.”

Ned and Nancy: (in unison, laughing) “Try that five times fast. Pass the pocket-sized peace pipe please, pass the pocket-sized peace pipe please, pass the pocket-sized peace pipe please . . .

Nancy: “But, seriously, Ray, send that peace pipe over here.”

The Sustainable Growth & Development Committee adjourns.

El Sabio, Dr. Freud, Ned and Nancy hang around for another bagel.

El Sabio: “Uno momento, por favor. I will not be cancelled! I concur with Ned (I mean the Dear Reader author). Soon, you will have more brains and more money than the rest of the retirement squad.”

Dr. Freud: “So, to summarize: what other people think of you is none of your business.”

Ned: “What he said!”

Piles of applications arrived. The committee unanimously agreed on most of them – either giving them the green light or stopping them short at the gates. The SG&D committee reconvened to discuss the more contentious applications. One potential property owner was very unhappy with the decision on his application. Here’s what he wrote:

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Einstein Meadows SG&D Committee,

I cannot understand why my application to purchase property in your fine neighborhood was rejected. I remember clearly stating that I love to walk around in the nude on my property. Maybe I shouldn’t have shared that I wear a propeller beanie.

Could the fact that my photo clearly shows I’m an albino have anything to do with my rejection? Am I too white for y’all? Or is it the fact that I look like a long-haired version of Alfred E Neuman?

How about that I’m an outspoken proponent of gun confiscation? Or lastly, because I’m a skateboarder?

What gives? I hope you snoots will have the decency to respond. I thought I was a perfect fit.

Clueless in California

........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Reverend Vernon: “Whoa! Who does this guy think he is? We better respond to this one. We don’t want anyone filing a Fair Housing lawsuit. And we certainly can’t let him think he’s the victim. When it’s we who dodged a bullet by sensibly rejecting him. Nancy, would you please draft a response.”

Buford: (sighing) “I guess I’ll have to return his application fee.”

Nancy: “I’ll be happy to write this guy.

Brunnhilde: “Try to be kind. We don’t want to be soul crushers.”

***************************************

* EINSTEIN MEADOWS -

HOME OF THE ~~ROCKIN’~~ MONGED SENIORS *

Dear Clueless,

Clearly your values don't match ours. We wish you all the best and will pray for you to come to your senses. If and when that happens, and that's a big if, take a long walk off a short pier.

For the rcord, your propeller beanie wasn't a problem. We were happy to see it was MAGA red; and gave you some bonus points for that. However, all things considered, it's time for you to come out of the basement and get a life.

Thank you for your interest in Einstein Meadows.

Sincerely,

The Einstein Meadows

Sustainable Growth and Development Committee

*****************************************

Reverend Vernon: “That’s perfect, Nancy. I move to send it out as is.

Brunnhilde: “I second the motion. Buford, cut the check, please. Don’t forget to send it at the end of the month so we earn the most interest.

Welcome to Einstein Meadows