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Posts Tagged ‘retirement’

Cardinal Sin

Posted in Culture, tagged , , , on 14 Apr 2024| 4 Comments »

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been two weeks since I last went to work . . .

In recent conversations with my sister, the word “shirking” was mentioned a few times. Growing up, shirking—the avoidance or neglect of duty—was Mortal Sin #1 in our mother’s book (followed closely by “imperfect result or performance”). Every day, every waking hour, was to be filled with purposeful activity. Productivity was the point. Recreation (where allowed) usually had a secondary educational goal.

My father was not as involved with this mindset. Though he worked long hours, and his off-days were regularly spent making repairs, improving our home, keeping cars in tune, and such, his recreation had no ulterior motive. His enjoyment of the 49ers’ football games was pure, and I long suspected that the point of his lazy Saturday’s spent surf-fishing was not, in fact, to catch fish.

But Dad’s counterpoint to Mom’s stricter zeitgeist really didn’t stand much of a chance and, in the end, didn’t make a dent in our training. As a result, my sister and I always and still find it difficult to stand down, take a breath, chill, relax. Everything must have a goal, a purpose.

Two weeks ago, I retired, ending forty-six years of employment, and in the time since, I’ve been busy. I’ve been doing chores (cooking, groceries, paying bills), handling situations (rolling over the 401(k), confirming insurance switchover), and even embarking on some larger projects (traction strips for the front steps, installing new raised beds). But I’ve also (usually at my wife’s suggestion) been taking time to enjoy some shows, read a little, and take walks. I thought I was doing pretty well.

But last night, my brain screwed up and showed its hand.

I was in bed, prepping for sleep and took a few minutes to plan the next day’s activity. The internal dialogue went something like this:

• Okay, tomorrow’s Sunday; the weather is supposed to be fine—mostly sunny, high of 62°F.
• Don’t want to waste the weather; outdoor activity should be a priority.
• I could work more on the front steps, scrape and grind to prep the surfaces.
• Should also see if we have any of that paint color left . . . Adirondack Brown, was it?
• Don’t want to get too deep into that. Don’t start anything that can’t be left for a while.
• Hmmm, what? Why?
• Only one day to spend on it; gotta go back to work on Monday. It’s been a nice two-week break, though.

At this point I heard/felt a click, in my head, like a physical switch being thrown.

Brain, you’ve been busted.

My subconscious had obviously not gotten the memo about our retirement; it was still operating as if I was only on vacation. It’s as if, deep down, I don’t really believe I’ve retired. That, or retirement is just too foreign a concept for my lizard brain to comprehend.

So, subconscious and I had a conversation wherein we discussed both the nature of forever and the fact that not every moment needs to have a goal.

Obviously, this is going to take more time than expected to truly sink in. The longest time-off I’ve ever had was a three-week vacation, so as far as I can tell my subconscious is now working on that premise, and we’ll need to have a similar conversation next week. But if that’s needed, we’ll have it, and again the week after, if required.

I’ll get there. Even if I have to drag my subconscious along, kicking and screaming.

k

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The Last Weekend

Posted in Culture, tagged , , on 24 Mar 2024| 1 Comment »

This is my last weekend. Ever.

From tomorrow on, I will merely have days, each barely distinguishable from the next, one after the other, days that form weeks, which form months, which in turn form years, onward, until I eventually end. The reason? This coming week is my last week in the work-a-day world, and as of this Friday afternoon, I will have retired from my 33-year stint at my place of employment.

We could have a semantic disagreement about the definitions. Some will feel that the weekends will always be weekends, fenceposts on the calendar of life, regardless of what activities I might (or might not) use to fill my weekdays. Others will say that I will have nothing but weekends, back to back, or that I’ll be on one very long weekend.

These definitions and outlooks have merit, in that they make logical sense within their framework, but for me, they just don’t feel right. For me, a weekend is the break between work-weeks, the time when one kicks back, tackles larger projects, gets together with friends, runs errands. I’ve long been one of the “early birds” at work, starting at around 6 AM, and I’ve been in the habit of “front-loading” my work weeks, working longer days Monday thru Wednesday, so I can shave an hour or so off my Friday, which when combined give me a jump-start on the weekend, giving me more like two and a half days for each weekend. And, of course, there’s the weekly case of Sunday-Night-itis, usually creeping in sometime Sunday afternoon, that dread knowledge that the weekend is almost over and tomorrow it’s back to the grind. This is what a weekend is, to me.

And this is my last weekend. Ever.

I expect I will be relying on the wall calendar more, checking the “day of the week” sub-dial on my old wristwatch, and of course, peeking at the time/date display on my phone. Because even though I will no longer have weekends, per se, the date still matters, and the day of the week still matters (especially on Garbage Night).

I’m not sure how I’ll structure my time, going forward. Will I plan? Will I occupy myself with whatever catches my fancy? I’m curious to see what works and what doesn’t.

However it works out, I know it will work out. Forty years ago, my wife and I devised a plan, and for forty years we worked the plan, and now we’re at the finish line, ready to reap the plan’s reward.

Excitedly, I repeat my mantra: Onward.

k

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Paradigm Shifting

Posted in Culture, Movies, tagged , , , on 11 Mar 2024| 11 Comments »

It struck me today that I need to change my perspective.

I am still thinking like an employed person. True, I still am employed, but not for much longer. In fact, I only have fifteen more days of employment; three business weeks before I am retired. Yet, when looking ahead and planning, I still, to a great extent, fall into the decades-long habit of planning around my workday responsibilities. Is it a school night? Then I can’t stay up ’til 2AM gaming with my crew. Am I on call? Then thank you, no, to the second whisky. How much will travel time eat into my week off?

Case in Point: Dune: Part Two.

For a long time, now, I have not enjoyed going to the cinema. Aside from the jarring juxtaposition of watching an adaptation of a Regency drama with distant gunfire and muffled explosions bleeding through from the multiplex theater next door, I find the experience over-loud, over-priced, and chock-a-block with people who are—more often than I care to admit—rude, inconsiderate, and entirely capable of ruining my movie-going experience.

So, though all my friends are raving about how good D:P2 is, I’ve been steeling myself for the long wait until it hits a streaming service and then comes out on disc (I’ll be watching the three movies annually, once I have them all at hand). I mean, why test my tolerance by braving the cinema along with the crowds that will also want to see it on any given weeknight or weekend day?

But today, I realized how silly and outdated that perspective is. In three weeks, I’ll be retired. Next month, there’s no reason I can’t’t go to the cinema mid-week, midday (along with all the other old folks). I might even get a senior discount. I’ll still have to contend with SFX sound bleeding in from the theater next door, but I’m thinking that won’t be as big an issue with D:P2 as it might otherwise be.

To be honest, I’ve missed the cinema experience, at least the way it used to be. My sister and I, ages ago, went in a gang to a “Weekend of Epics” in Petaluma, where we saw, back to back: The Bible, Ben-Hur, Cleopatra, and Lawrence of Arabia. It was an all-day event, over thirteen hours of screen time (plus intermissions and meal breaks). And it was a gas, because the only people in attendance were movie nerds who were totally into the immersion of watching old movies in a darkened theater. No teens on dates. No young couples with crying babies. Just folks who were willing and able to devote nearly sixteen straight hours to a movie-going experience.

I don’t ever expect to capture that feeling again, but if there’s even a chance of feeling a fraction of that magic, I’ll risk the disappointment.

k

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Forever Thursday

Posted in Culture, Seattle, tagged , , on 08 Mar 2024| 1 Comment »

I find myself in a liminal space, straddling one of modern life’s boundaries, not half-in/half-out, but between and neither, caught mid-transformation.

With three weeks to go until my retirement, I’m not really working at work, but I’m also not really not working. Not quite working; not quite retired. Every day feels like Thursday (even today, a Friday), and by that I mean that each day feels like the weekend is about to start, but isn’t quite ready to throw the switch. Every day is Weekend Eve Eve.

At work, management is purposefully not giving me anything to do (well, nothing that can’t be done in an hour, anyway)—a bit of a gift after 33 years with the company—so I’m doing a lot of ho-humming during my work day. My replacement is making the transition from her old team to ours, and I will be able to assist in that, but she’s actually a former member of our team who is returning to the fold, so there’s little with which she’ll need my specific assistance.

As for retirement readiness, the requisite forms have been filled out/submitted/received, our new insurance is ready to take over, our many ducks are waiting patiently in their row.

All is in readiness.

Yet, I am anxious. Nervous. Jittery. At loose ends. Unable to focus. Wanting to start, but without the time to do so.

The weather has not helped. Here in Seattle, spring started off early but quickly realized it forgot something on the stove and had to run home, giving winter another month to hang around and raid the fridge. It’s as if my world is holding its breath.

And yet, all around me, furious activity. Kids play in the street, dogs get walked. Orders are delivered, trash is collected. Speeches are made and votes are cast. Wars and negotiations drag on. Babies are being born, changing couples into parents, parents into grandparents.

Yet, here I am in my chrysalis, waiting to emerge.

When I do,  what will I be?

k

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Drifting

Posted in Creativity, Culture, Poetry, tagged , , , , , on 22 Feb 2024| Leave a Comment »

the percussive exuberance
of K-drama dialogue
drifts down the darkened hall
a cryptic lullaby in
rollercoaster tones
leading me past
anxious abstraction
to plush midnight

(more…)

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T-Minus 200 Days and Counting

Posted in Culture, tagged , , , , , on 14 Sep 2023| Leave a Comment »

I’ve been working full-time since 1980 and in that time only once have I had a three-week vacation.

Like most workers my age, when I started working full-time, my time-off allowance (if I had any) would only cover sick days for the occasional cold or flu. Later, as I developed my career, I accrued enough hours to take a week off during the year, as well. About twenty years ago, I had sufficient seniority at my firm to take two-week vacations. Bliss! Two weeks was enough to spend a week powering down from the stress of the daily grind, and still have a week to really enjoy the time off. Eventually, that time-off allowance grew large enough that I was able to manage an entire three-week vacation. That was about ten years ago, and it was the only time in those forty-three full-time worker-bee years that I had such a stretch of time away from the work-a-day world.

Today, though, is a milestone, as I am 200 days away from a very long vacation: on April 1, 2024 I will retire from my firm, after working there for 33 years.

There’s a lot wrapped up in that because in addition to retiring soon, I’m also turning 65. As I mentioned last week, we’ve been quite busy this year preparing for the transition, and yesterday was a big one: we met with our Medicare Guy.

I’ll tell you at the outset, when it comes to Medicare, seek advice (and not just from friends and family). Seek advice from a professional. Find an independent broker* (i.e., someone who isn’t tied to a single insurance provider). Find someone who is responsive, experienced, and able to assist you in navigating the myriad of options available. I tried four different brokers before I found “our guy,” who will help us not only sign up, but will provide ongoing advice through the years as plans and policies change.

Yesterday, we had a two-hour meeting with him, and we came away from it frazzled, fuzzy-brained, deluged with information, but ultimately much more comfortable and confident that we can do this.

We still have a lot of work ahead of us, and many decisions to make, but we have greater knowledge now, knowledge that will help us make better decisions. And—more importantly, for our peace of mind—we also know that whatever decision we do make, it’s not written in stone. If it turns out the choice we made isn’t working or (crucially) if our situation changes, we can change our coverage options to accommodate.

All this is very boring, not at all artsy or creative, and has nothing to do with what I usually bang on about here, but wow, I cannot tell you how much it helped. And it’s a lesson that can be applied in other areas.

Asking for expert advice is not a sign of weakness or failure. It’s simply an acknowledgment that I don’t know everything (gasp!). Just as I ask a doctor about medical issues and don’t rely on whatever advice the TikTok algorithm sends my way, so too will I ask a professional about areas in which I have little or no expertise. This only makes sense.

So, that’s today’s totally boring and very un-entertaining post. I’ll get back to more creative stuff, hopefully soon.

k

* This advice holds true also for financial advisors. Pick an independent advisor, who isn’t beholden to a specific financial institution. They cost more, but the difference is you get totally unbiased assessments and recommendations, because they make their money from you, and not from some financial institution in the background.

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Sunday Morning v Friday Afternoon

Posted in Culture, Music, Seattle, tagged , , , , , , , on 05 May 2023| 1 Comment »

There’s a song that’s been on my mind lately. It’s called “Sunday,” by Les Friction†, a group that’s been on my tight rotation playlist‡ ever since I discovered them in 2011.

I love this song for several reasons. It starts out with a distinctly “Eleanor Rigby” vibe—a string octet playing a clipped ostinato with a tin-can percussion back—a lovely ariose melody drifting downward from the opening notes, singing of how “she” always wakes up late on Sunday mornings, takes her coffee, and heads out the door to a street populated by flower vendors and serenity. The lyrics take a turn toward longing, a searching for love, and feelings of hope, as we wander (at least in the music video that plays in my head) the streets, down from the Pantheon toward Notre Dame. And then BANG!, a chorus with full orchestra, chimes, and a pulsing rhythm section. Another verse and back to the chorus, followed by a 4+2 instrumental bridge that throws in strings and brass (clarino trumpet!) and even a glockenspiel (I’ve always been a sucker for a well-placed glockenspiel part), all building building building to a climax that breaches heaven before it stops . . . and the Rigby octet returns, recapitulates the quiet opening notes, and fades out to silence.

At its heart it is a love song, complex in structure and orchestration, but simple in its message: two souls seeking, destined to meet, to find, and to share the rest of their allotted time, to “live like every day is Sunday.”

Yeah, I’m fond of the song.

It has been, ever since I first heard it, how I’ve imagined my retirement. Living like every day is Sunday. Lazy Sunday. Sleepy Sunday. The Day of Rest.

But ever since I broached the T-minus one year mark toward my impending retirement, that outlook has changed. Sunday? Every day like Sunday? No. The closer I get to my last day of work, the more I have come to appreciate not Sundays but rather, Friday afternoons. (I mean, let’s be honest. Sundays come with some baggage. Sure, it might be a day after all the errands and have-to’s are done, a day when you can sleep in a bit, but it’s also a day that comes with the knowledge that the morning brings a return to work, a malaise we here call “Sunday-night-itis.”)

Friday afternoon, though—especially if you get off work a tad early—it comes with a feeling of freedom, of release, of celebratory drinks and the promise of the whole weekend ahead. If you manage it right, a properly used Friday afternoon can make it feel like the first day of a three-day weekend. Yeah. Friday afternoons are great, and while I won’t complain of the occasional lazy Sunday type of day, given the choice, I’d like to live each day like it’s Friday afternoon, with all the joy and hope and expanse of future time that it brings to bear.

Oh, I still love the song “Sunday,” and I’ll listen to it over and over in the coming years, but it is a song that speaks to the time-sense of the working stiff.

And in relatively short order, I won’t be that.

So, I’ll take Friday afternoons, please.

And thank you.

k

† Les Friction is an outgrowth of the group E.S. Posthumus (also on my tight rotation playlist), formed by the Vonlichten brothers, Helmut and Franz. The sound they created was heavily orchestrated and driving, used for many movie trailers and the NFL on CBS theme. After Franz’s sudden death in 2010, Helmut eventually returned to music and created Les Friction.

‡ Other similar groups on my tight rotation playlist include Two Steps from Hell, Thomas Bergersen, and Jo Blankenburg. Just sayin’.

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