Coming of Age

I was never popular in school, but that's okay, because I never wanted to be.

If I could have gone through that part of my life invisible, I would have. My report card always said things like, "Barbara knows the answers but will not raiser her hand and participate." But I'd learned early on that the other kids didn't appreciate the smart ones. You were jeered at and picked on for volunteering the answers, so I kept my hand (and my head) down and became as invisible as I could possibly be.

Many of you will be surprised to hear this, given how outspoken I have become since those early days. While I'm still something of a lone wolf, I howl more now than I once did. Yet there's still a part of me who wishes others couldn't see me.

"Others," of course, being insurance companies. Thanks to the information age in which we live, marketers know that I'm approaching the age when Medicare becomes available to me. As that day nears, I've noticed there's a decided ramp-up in the amount of mail I get from insurance companies who want to help me navigate the tangled process.

"Come have coffee with us, and we'll explain how it works," one of their pitches goes. It's much like those timeshare offers we used to get. (Sit through the presentation, and you'll get a free TV. No strings attached.) Thanks, but I can get my coffee at home without feeling pressured to sign up for your Medicare Supplement plan.

At one point, I was getting dozens of calls from the same company. I made the mistake of answering the first one. Although I hung up and blocked that number, I continued to get calls from the same exchange, except the last four numbers were different. When I complained to Mr. Ginley, he suggested I answer one of the calls and tell them I'm not eligible for Medicare for 10 years. Which I did, and that ended the harrassment. (Why do I feel guilty about lying to telemarketers? That's dumb, I know.)

As far as the mail is concerned, I know it's only going to get worse. I just went through this with Mr. Ginley, and the insurance companies were relentless. 

Spoiler alert: This part is my PSA for anyone getting ready to sign up for Medicare.

While it's true that signing up for Medicare is a minefield, thanks to my sister, I used a website called Boomer Benefits, and they were wonderful. If you're entering the Medicare zone, go to their website and watch the two videos they've posted, then sign up to talk to one of their folks. They don't sell supplemental insurance, they're brokers. So they walk you through the process, explain your options and help you sign up. And they continue to work with you after you've enrolled, so if you have questions, they can get you answers. But they don't harass you every five minutes. Honestly, I don't know how the average citizen figures out what to do. It's shameful what certain politicians have done to screw up a system that used to be straightforward. (I won't mention any names, but you know who you are.)

Okay, off the soapbox now. 

Of all the mail we've received concerning health insurance, life insurance and burial insurance (let's make sure we cover ALL the bases), the most bizarre are the postcards and flyers addressed to my father-in-law. 

We're not exactly sure why he's getting mail at our address, given that he never lived here – and he's been gone for over 40 years. 

"Maybe we should forward this to Holy Cross," my wisecracking husband quipped. 

I guess those marketing folks don't know everything about us after all.