Retirement?!

  It’s really no surprise, I guess. Feeling frustrated and at the end of my rope lately, and as always so alone and disconnected, I have begun wondering again for the umpteenth time if maybe it might just be time to retire.

  One of the many rewards of having lived the absolutely first rate life that I have lived is the fact that there is no provision for a future, to speak of. There is only whatever I can do for myself right now, here, today; and tomorrow will have to take care of tomorrow. As it always has, and always will, in one way or another. And so, with things being as they are, what happens if a person in such circumstances somehow manages to ‘outlive his usefulness’, so to speak? What happens to a person in such circumstances, if they live to reach the point where they are no longer able to support themselves; no longer able to provide even the basic necessities of an existence that is all ready exceedingly Spartan in most regards? Anyone? Anyone? Beuller? Beuller? Silence from the studio audience.

  As it so happens, these are questions that I have had to contemplate during those rare moments when I was struck by the urge to wax pragmatic, in regard to my approaching golden years, in what has been one sweet honey of a life. And you may breathe a sigh of relief, beloved reader, because my ever superior ability to glean the answers to all of life’s difficult questions has not failed to deliver. God, it’s nice being me sometimes! =) And the answer is elementary, my dear Watson…

  Retirement! Now as you may or may not be aware of, I happen to be fortunate enough to reside literally right next door to- a long stone’s throw away, but certainly no more than that- one of the premier retirement communities of our beloved country… Also known as: Sun City West, AZ. The only problem with this scenario, as we may have touched upon earlier, is that it is far outside of my means. Light years, in fact- which all know is a measure of distance rather than time…. But we can not lose sight of the fact that time is running out; can we? Aside from this, or maybe better phrased- in addition to this, I do not meet the necessary prerequisites to bask in the fabled luxury of living out my golden years in this, the pinnacle peak of adult communities.

  No, my retirement plan is more closely related to a little known practice in the world of professional gambling known as the ‘Greyhound retirement plan’. Anyone familiar with this? Anyone? Beuller? Beuller? Although this is something that makes me mad enough to want to hurt someone, bad, there is little likelihood that it would do any good. What do you imagine, beloved reader, happens to greyhound racing dogs when their scumbag owners decide that they have ‘outlived their usefulness’- in particular their estimated ‘age window’ in which they can be deemed "race eligible"? Some sort of Sun City West, perhaps, for dogs who have obediently done what their owners have tasked them with, running themselves to exhaustion their entire lives? And the answer to that, my friend, is no. They do not retire to Sun City West to live out their golden years in pampered luxury.

  Nor so for me. My retirement date is simply when the time arrives in which I no longer regard my retiring as an act of courage which might be beyond my ability to summon. My retirement date is when I can only regard it as my final task to culminate a lifetime spent running myself to exhaustion, with nothing to show for it. I’ll never make it to Sun City West, but at least I may be able to retire within a ‘stone’s throw’ of distance away.... at 41 years old, and just in time for the holiday season.