Frustrations in the Social Security application process

Okay, now I'm a geezer.

But there are advantages. Such as the Senior Pass that'll get in in free to national parks, national monuments, national recreation areas, national wildlife refuges.

And Medicare, but that's a whole 'nuther story. Plus there are a few others, like small discounts at lots of retailers .... Think hard, and they'll come to you!

Plus, oh yeah, Social Security.

Except getting to Social Security is a surprisingly frustrating process.

For instance, when you apply online, you have to wade through a lot of web pages while dredging up a fair amount of personal information you hadn't used in a long, long time. But finally, you reach a point where you get to choose the month in which you want our benefits to start. So in mid-December, I chose January.

Then, nada. No word from Social Security. And no check from Social Security.

Every day I checked SSA's online application status page. Every day I was informed that no action had been taken.

After several weeks of this, I called their 800 number, and after a wait of almost an hour, I got through. To discover that although although my benefits would start in January, the checks wouldn't start until February. "Why," I asked. "Because the checks don't start arriving until the month after benefits begin."

Hmmmmm. One wonders what benefits applicants seek other than the checks they've earned? No answer was forthcoming.

But the thought is intriguing. What other Social Security benefits might there be? Membership privileges in the Social Security gym? A personalized parking space in the Social Security garage? A 10% discount at Social Security shops? Not being required to remove your shoes at Social Security checkpoints? Non of these seemed terribly likely. I give up - what benefits do Social Security applicants generally seek, other than the checks they've earned?

The not-so-helpful person at the 800 number wouldn't hazard a guess. Nor could she tell me anything about the status of my application I didn't already know. But she did thank me for calling the 800 number.

So I continued to check my application status online every day. Always the same answer. Or non-answer.

Finally I screwed up my courage and drove in to my "local" Social Security office. Understand: my local Social Security office serves an area encompassing thousands of square miles - its easily a drive of several hours and hundreds of miles for many of the people for whom it's the "local" office ... and that's assuming they're even capable of driving several hours and hundreds of miles to get there.

However, that was the right choice. After a wait that was shorter than the wait on the 800 line, I got to talk with a knowledgeable and helpful individual. Who was able to quickly discover that notwithstanding what the online status page was telling me, my application had been approved, and the checks would begin arriving ... in February. He even gave me a direct line telephone number to reach him if they didn't arrive on time. (However, when I asked him what benefits come that month before the first check, he laughed wryly, and admitted it was a good question.)

So the moral of the story is that although the application process is frustrating and is rather opaque, one can find helpful, caring and competent folk at the office. If you can get there.

Oh yes, the online status report on my application is still telling me that no action has been taken on it yet ....  

Thirty-something?

Was driving somewhere with my daughter, now nineteen. We were talking about the changes wrought by aging, with more of a focus on her time of life than mine. At some point, I commented that although I knew I'm sixty-two, I really feel like I'm still thirty. "Really," she dubiously asked?

Yes. Okay, I know I'm not, and there are certainly plenty of signs that I'm not - my eyesight grows steadily worse, my joints aren't as resilient as they used to be, I take longer to heal, there are creases where there used to be smooth skin, my bright red hair has faded to dull brown where it hasn't blanched to pure white ... and the list goes on.

But deep down inside, in my conception of who I am, I'm still in my thirties. I still do pretty much anything I want to, whether it's going for a 100 mile hike deep inside the Grand Canyon (see photos and commentary) or biking to work or swinging an axe. And my mind still feels the same way it always has (though perhaps I delude myself). An attractive woman still catches my eye. Most important, perhaps, I look at the future in terms of opportunities and plans, far more than in terms of restraints or memories or regrets.

I realize that in eight years I'll be seventy, that in the time it takes a newborn to be able to vote, I'll be eighty. And I look at my father - a remarkably vital and active ninety - and wonder how he sees himself? Is he still the handsome, dashing Army Air Corps pilot I never knew. Or is he the bowed, increasingly frail, easily fatigued old man with a deteriorating memory that I reluctantly see?

This aging process isn't what I thought it would be. Mostly, I happily add, it's better. Enough so, that I sometimes wonder if it's even occurring.

Until my daughter says "Really?"