Not Aging Gracefully 

It used to be the only thing old people held up were supermarket lines.

Then came stranger-originated life insurance, a practice in which investors place insurance policies on the elderly. The catch: Investors only get paid when the elderly person in question finally kicks it, and sometimes that takes awhile, which is awfully, awfully inconsiderate, if you think about it.

But it’s never been this bad before.

Down in Long Island, there’s this former miniature golf course owner named Michael Fleming. We say “former,” because the course went belly-up, Fleming filed for bankruptcy, and now everything the guy ever owned is being liquidated to pay off his creditors.

He probably should have just made like every other Long Islander and passed on the mini golf in favor of opening some awful strip mall tanning salon. But he didn’t, and now he’s losing pretty much everything he owns. Which gets us back to the elderly hook.

Fleming’s mother is 81. She lives in a totally nondescript Bay Shore, Long Island ranch. In a bout of generosity, or something, she gave half the house to Fleming the penniless ex-mini golf king, and half to his sister. Wrong move, grandma.

Now half the house, which Fleming’s mother continues to live in, is the property of Fleming’s creditors, and no offense, ma’am, but they can’t exactly close out your deadbeat son’s unpaid bills with half a ranch in Bay Shore. So they’ve scheduled an October auction to liquidate the half-house interest.

Except – get this – Fleming’s mother would like to continue to live in the whole house, including the half that’s about to be sold at auction. The auction is being held off-site, since the lady won’t let anybody from the auction company or any prospective bidders inside the house – which she does not even own anymore. In fact, the auctioneer is saying any buyer won’t be able to move in or sell until after she dies.

And with the way modern medicine is heading, who knows how long that could take? Take it from The Teller – it ain’t easy dealing with your parent’s real estate. If we could have sold our stake in mom and dad’s musty old basement, we’d be off living the dream in some downtown, high-rise condo right now. We hear they’re basically giving them away at 45 Province…