As you tread the long road between first tooth and last, you stumble into some things that most of us are never really ready to do … you just do them and work out the consequences along the way. Getting married, having kids or buying a house are a few of the ‘just do it’ things that leap to mind. If you examine them too closely or too logically, you’ll end up lonely, childless and renting a one room flat where the bed folds out of the wall, because you won’t do any of them. I believe retirement ranks high on that list.

My concept of retirement was to be able to do all the things I’ve always wanted, without worrying about being successful at them or having to impress anyone. That included working at my own pace, not someone else’s. Read the rest of this entry

First, let me categorically state that everyone has something to be thankful for, even if it’s only still being around to air their latest gripe and have somebody handy to do eye rolls! If my friend Bob could have seen me steering my way through our Thanksgiving feast he would have said, “Look at him, sittin’ there fat and happy!” and he would have been right. If one can strut while occupying a chair, clutching an overburdened fork in one hand and a gravy-soaked dinner roll in the other, then I was strutting.

The reason my chest was puffed up bigger than the turkey’s wasn’t so much the incredible meal, meticulously prepared by my incredible bride of some thirty-three Thanksgivings, or even the fact that I was surrounded by a small gaggle of kids and grandkids, only one of whom managed to spill anything that would repattern the tablecloth. It wasn’t even having my Mom, now easing her way toward ninety-four, raising a glass of wine with us and providing a toast in her parents’ native Slovak. It was something much bigger, yet so small I don’t think anyone else even noticed.

Vigi had heaped the table with every imaginable Thanksgiving delight, to the point of overflow onto a convenient sideboard. With appropriate gratitude offered to the Lord and before I could even warn my taste buds, I found myself the salivating recipient of the turkey platter … then the mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing and so forth. Without so much as a word between them, my two sons [at my immediate left] collaborated to see that I was the first to receive each serving plate, before anyone else! Of course Vigi, [to my immediate right] was next … then the rest. The organizational chart says that I’m head of the family but frequently, as the years whizzed by, I wondered if anyone had ever read it.

This gesture of respect was never taught to them, nor ever demanded … any more than I could have demanded the love that was so clearly behind it. At a time of life when many of my achievements seem to feel as though they were authored by some phantom, and self-doubt often interrupts reason, these two characters elevated me to the level of King Arthur, himself, presiding at the Round Table! It never happened before, and may never again, but the only way they can fully grasp the importance of their act is to be blessed with such a moment themselves. I wish it for them both.

As the meal progressed I looked and listened with growing pride to the conversational ebb and flow of four family generations … giggles, eye rolls and all. The little girls were now young women on the verge of accomplishing great things, my boys were beginning to sport the slightest touches of gray as middle age nibbles at their hairlines, and even Vigi’s sumptuous feast paled a bit in the glow of the royalty consuming it.

Most parents do the best they can to raise their children properly … to instill a traditional value system and an ethical sense of right and wrong. You may have noticed kids don’t come with an instruction manual and most people that have written books about them don’t seem to have any of their own. With so many potent outside forces that shape who these new adults become once they’ve graduated from home, all that remains is the hope you did something right along the way. When the table is cleared and dishes done, the things for which to be truly thankful are the ones, like this, that let you know you did.

Listen to Bananas Crackers and Nuts Podcast. Find Links under “Recent Podcasts”… and more shows on my Podcast Page.

Sometimes I can’t tell where Vigi’s sandals leave off and mine begin. I chose sandals instead of pumps or oxfords because they’re open and leave plenty of space, much like my lovely lady herself. They were also the first thing I saw as she glided toward me the first time we met.  As my eyes crept upward from her toes, they revealed a pair of neat white slacks, then a pressed white blouse, and finally a deliciously dark tan topped off with tresses of sun-bleached blond hair. My mind photographed the image more clearly and more indelibly than anything a camera could have recorded. I filled in more personal detail on the way back down.

That was thirty-three years ago and we’ve learned an awful lot about each other since then, including that I don’t like wearing sandals and she doesn’t like wearing any shoes at all. We’ve actually reached the point where we frequently finish each others’ thoughts. I don’t mean each others’ sentences, I mean each others’ thoughts! On more than one occasion I’ve wondered whether we’ve grown to be that much alike or if we started out that way. Did that kind of simpatico draw us together in the first place?

It isn’t that we always agree or buy matching outfits, or anything like that … although we’ve been known to choose the same color combinations when getting dressed, only to discover our twinhood later. It’s more like being together just feels comfortable. It’s familiar. It’s also scary. Sometimes Vigi knows me better than I know myself.

Take last weekend when I was rummaging around under the kitchen sink, looking for the stuff I spray on the furnace filters when I change them. “It’s on the right, all the way in back,” she informed me. “What is?” “The Endust. Isn’t that what you’re looking for?” I hadn’t said a word to her! I was so taken aback that I just laid out on the floor and laughed until my tear-streaked face went stiff and my ribs ached. I was finally able to foolishly ask, “How did you know what I wanted?” She said nothing. She didn’t have to. She simply smiled that ‘feline got the fish’ smile that can only be properly executed after half a lifetime together. It’s amazing how much can be conveyed with just mouth corners, if it’s the right mouth.

You know how we’re told to walk a mile in the other guy’s shoes? Well, Veege is inside mine while my feet are still in there! On those rare occasions when we’re not in blissful agreement, we don’t really argue, we ‘bicker’ … and she’s a great ‘bickerer!’ It’s never personal and usually about something silly like why the spare car key isn’t on its hook or how the perpetual clutter (mine) seems to live on the corner of the kitchen counter. Her most effective ‘bickering’ weapon is merely providing a brief entree to the subject and then clamming up. Sometimes I get on a rant like some giant steam engine rumbling down the tracks, breathing fire and belching smoke … unable to put the brakes on until I realize that I’m the only one participating in the discussion. Once I feel stupid enough, it’s over!

Her patience is probably the greatest reason why we’re still married after so many years and, in my book, why it gets better every day. She knows exactly how much rope to play out before she ‘yanks’ and has mastered the art of letting me think I’m running the show, while all the while she’s the one in charge.

On those even rarer occasions, when there is actually some tug and pull, nothing gets us back into the same sandals faster than simply facing each other, holding hands and looking straight into each others’ eyes. It’s impossible to fight, bicker or argue in that position. I’m not saying the sun always comes out but it’s a great way to avoid the lightning and thunder … to slip on more comfortable shoes, especially if you’re joined at the toes.

Listen to Bananas Crackers and Nuts Podcast. Find Links under “Recent Podcasts”… and more shows on my Podcast Page.

I’ve been told that when I retire I need to ‘reinvent’ myself. The recommendation would seem to imply that, somehow, I was invented in the first place, like a lightbulb or a washing machine. Actually, there are several life-changing situations for which I was given the same advice. At least, that’s what they say I should do.

Without intending to offend the ever-elusive theysayers in the crowd, let me state in no uncertain terms that, to the best of my knowledge, I was not invented … nor did I suddenly appear in a puff of smoke or under a cabbage leaf in my Father’s vegetable garden. As intriguing as those explanations may be, the fact is I simply evolved … the product of two terrific parents on one hand and the corrupt influence of a generally dysfunctional society on the other. No more, no less.

Furthermore, that evolution has taken more than half a century and I fail to see how any meaningful adjustments are going to be made overnight. Because the engine is chugging a little going up a hill, it doesn’t make sense to me to drive the whole thing off a cliff and get a new car! Maybe it makes more sense to just pull over to the side of the road and fix the engine … especially if you’re comfortable with the butt marks you’ve worn into the seat.

The problem is that somewhere between the cliff and “Hand me the 1/2 inch wrench,” guys who have defined themselves by their occupation most of their lives often find themselves with no place to be. They either start feeling like the proverbial man without a country, or they go back to some kind of job where they work as hard as ever but without getting paid for it. This is usually referred to as volunteering. But what happened to retirement? I don’t know if women run into something similar but there are a lot of older ladies out there not collecting wages for a lifetime of expertise! If that’s reinventing yourself, you can keep it!

My Dad was one of the guys who drove his car off the cliff and walked home. His company pastured him out at 65 and he managed to stay completely inactive until he was 80. I remember trying to urge him to “get out and do something,” only to be met with a tirade about how hard he worked all of his life and how he had “earned this”… as he dozed off again in his recliner behind his Newark Star Ledger. He may have been the poster boy for what not to do … but for the first time in my life, I understand what he must have been feeling.

The fact is, I believe that given the option, most people would rather continue working [and earning wages] than retire under the circumstances most of us finally learn to accept. There’s a vast wealth of experience and great talent going to waste because of the myopic vision of the generation running things today. Oh sure, we might not be as fast as we once were and maybe most of us can only multi-task to the tune of three or four things at once, instead of ten … but the quality difference outweighs any quantity difference by immeasurable amounts.

Looking back, I have come to realize that the battles were more exciting than winning the war … the journey more fun than arriving at my destination. Time and energy, or what I’ve dubbed ‘tenergy’, has become too limited to begin new battles or undertake new journeys of any consequence. I don’t have the definitive answer yet, but it’s coming along … and I know it has more to do with repair than reinvention.

I suppose, in some ways, I’m still waiting for my ship to come in … although she’s moving more slowly now with all those barnacles on her bottom. I only hope that when she does, I’m not either stumbling around out at the airport or busy being keelhauled, instead of greeting her with warm, welcoming arms from the dock!

Listen to Bananas Crackers and Nuts Podcast. Find Links under “Recent Podcasts”… and more shows on my Podcast Page.

by Guest Blogger Kathy Davis

I’ve talked about my struggle to embrace the concept of retirement before … but what I haven’t mentioned is the wrestling match Vigi is having with the idea. The only difference is that she’s still working and, despite my uneasiness about her being the primary bread winner, I’m leaving the ‘stay/go’ decision completely up to her. I’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth and risk becoming associated with the other end!

Anyway, Vigi e-mailed her friend Kathy, who is already enjoying the fruits of retirement, asking for some advice and a pep talk. Kathy’s response just might shake a few peaches from the tree for the rest of us, and since I like to work and play well with others, here’s a bite …

“Um, excuse me, Ma’am…did you order a pep talk? Let me see if I can find one for you.

I had to smile when I read your words about wanting to be home when at work, etc. That reminds me of myself about a year and a half ago. You see, I had narrowed my vision down to that of my employer for so many years, I forgot I had a vision of my own … once. In fact, not only did I take on one employer, I took on two of them. Well, from the $$ standpoint it was a good move at the time, but it left me with zero free time for myself.

Well, one day, who should walk through the door of the restaurant but the knight in shining armor that I had prayed for! Of course, being the dedicated person I was, I didn’t recognize him … I thought he was just another customer. Okay, wrong again! After I finally became convinced that he wasn’t coming in for the food, I started to listen to what he was saying. Aside from various things about a log home in Tennessee, Harley Davidson bikes and a dog with floppy ears, all of which sounded a chord, one thing he said stood out from the rest …“You need to get a life!”

In his own quiet way, he began to show me little slices of life. Some I’d never seen, like the motorcycle. Others I had forgotten, like laughing just for the heck of it! And it started to become habit-forming. Suddenly, I found myself wanting to be where I wasn’t! Well, due to amazing stupidity on my part, for a long time I had wanted to be elsewhere when I was home … but now I wanted to be somewhere else when I was at work. I just didn’t enjoy it so much anymore. I found that my interests were shifting. Well, no, that isn’t exactly right. What happened was that I discovered I actually had interests; what’s more, I realized that I deserved to have them. Those revelations were followed closely by a resolve to go and pursue what I wanted, instead of just rolling with the tide, like I used to.

Guess what? I realized that the people at work that I had counted as friends, who had cheered for my new love and new life, were suddenly much less encouraging. It turns out, they were jealous they didn’t have the same chance for change that I did. Imagine that! They played down how much my retirement would mean to me and started to talk up all the “plusses” of working there.

Fortunately, I was just crazy enough to listen to the voice in my head instead of to them. I have found out that I was right to go ahead with my plans. Nobody at work has ever been as good a friend to me as I have been to myself in the last year. I have become centered, don’t torment myself if I don’t get unrealistic amounts of work done every day, and can relax and enjoy the people around me.

I have found a few things that I want to invest my time in … and they’re all almost free! I don’t need as much money as I thought I would, because I don’t do the things I used to that wasted my money. At the end of the day, it all turns out to be pretty simple. Life is good, now that I let myself have one. I finally let myself have MINE, instead of letting someone else have it!

Well, I need to climb off my soapbox, now. Old, retired people shouldn’t stand on things … they can get dizzy and fall off! See you soon. I hope you feel peppy, after all that!”

… and that’s what friends are for!

Listen to Bananas Crackers and Nuts Podcast. Find Links under
“Recent Podcasts”… and more shows on my Podcast Page.

Some people slide into retirement easily.  Not me.  I guess part of the problem is that I never meant to retire.  Oh, I said the words last New Year’s Eve but then you say a lot of things on New Year’s Eve when your tongue is well oiled with enough José, Tanqueray or Andre, vintage last Tuesday.  I’m still ready to work but I’ve played in a ‘young man’s game’ all my life; now  it seems young men either fail to place a premium on experience or feel threatened by it.  I think I’ll go with threatened. I like the sound of it better.

Among the many changes that occur when you retire, regardless of how the decision is made, I find three things particularly outstanding:  Traditional ‘markers’ disappear, time accelerates at warp speed and you find yourself in need of a new identity.  The first two happen automatically; the third takes some serious reconstruction and I, for one, am still breaking ground in that area.  Guys, especially, tend to define themselves by their occupation.  So when there is no longer an occupation there’s a huge gap in your mental resume — and nobody likes to say, “Used to be”.

I had a wonderful experience this past week and the gentleman responsible for it would probably never fully grasp its significance.  You see, all he did was remember me!  He not only made my day but popped a few pieces of the puzzle into place.  As I’ve written before and mentioned in the Podcast [if you've listened], my background is radio and announcing. One friend from ‘the business’ refers to us as pronouncers.  By any other name, broadcasting means public person. It also means colossal ego.  If a person who toiled in anonymity behind a desk all his life stumbles a bit during the journey into retirement, imagine the concussion from the thud when some radio guy’s huge ego hits the floor!  Believe me, it’s not pretty.

Anyway, the gentleman who made my week is a former customer of my production studio who I last saw about ten years ago.  Out of the blue, he called and asked if I would be interested in appearing in a commercial he is producing for television.  I mean, the guy is opening the door to work again!  He not only remembered me but actually thought about ‘me of the radio face’ as a T.V. type!  After the initial excitement of being wanted again wore off, I began to wonder if he had considered the changes that might have occurred since he last saw me — ten years worth of wrinkles, twenty pounds worth of pasta and a salt-and-pepper instead of pepper-and-salt beard, just for openers.  He hadn’t.

I sent him three current pictures and he sent me a kind note that was like an umpire calling the batter out on three straight strikes.  Oh he didn’t say, “You’ve got to be kidding,” or anything like that.  But his carefully worded note read, “Thank you for the pictures but I’m afraid you don’t look the part”.  My return message told him not to be afraid and thanked him for thinking of me.  What really surprised me was my feeling of relief — like a giant weight had been lifted from my shoulders that I didn’t even know was there!  I definitely felt disappointed and unquestionably felt sad but my overriding emotion was one of relief!

The opportunity was welcome but the revelation was valuable.  I think I’m finally beginning to find my fuzzy retirement slippers instead of running around on broken glass in my bare feet.  The part of me that needed nurturing from public performance is satisfied.  It is now relegated to the ‘been there, done that’ category.  It is yesterday. I’m through playing. I’ve folded up my game board and tucked it away in the top of the closet. Now, if I can just close the door.

Look for Bananas Crackers and Nuts Podcast links under
“Recent Podcasts”…also check out the Podcast Page.

Geez, it’s already October! I don’t mean on the calendar, I’m talking about my life! So, what are you doing with the rest of yours? In addition to several other fortune cookie quotes, Confucius is purported to have said, “Choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life”. It’s a terrific thought, if you’re one of the lucky few that enjoys a passion for their work. But what about everyone else? The truth is that most people are stuck in jobs, or even worse in careers, that they either don’t really care about or can’t wait to get out of and retire. My question is — then what?

A few people I know have expressed a desire to catch up on their reading. You mean we have a quota? A few more want to “putter around the garden” and, oh yes, then there’s the guy who was a teacher for forty years in the same school – thirty of those years in the same classroom! His amibition for retirement? To be that old geezer who shuffles off to fetch your car at the rent-a-car place. The way he figures it, he can drive some pretty cool cars that way. I wonder what he’ll do on the second day.

My own concept of retirement has always been to do something I really love without having to worry about being successful or making money at it — just do it on my own terms. The only problem is, I’ve been working at what I love for the past twenty-five years and I was getting paid for it. That’s a hard habit to break! I frequently grew tired from my job but never tired of it.

If Confucius was right, then I haven’t worked in a pretty long time — no wonder I’m not ready to stop! But, ready or not, I’m trying to accept the beginnings of an involuntary retirement the rest of the world seems determined to inflict upon me. After you reach a certain age, it’s as though younger people are reluctant to deal with you for fear they’ll get stuck in a wrinkle or slip on one of your gray hairs.

Prospecting for business during the past few years often bought me a look like I had one of those big red pimples at the end of my nose. You know, the kind that used to bloom when you were a kid, just before the big dance or going to the drive-in with Little Patti Passion. Any thought process was clearly, “What kind of fresh ideas can this old curmudgeon have, anyway?” This bit of brilliance from someone who is still learning to read his diploma. By the way, the answer to that would be, “More ideas, fresher concepts and all of them better executed than ever before” — but that’ll get you a look like you have spinach between your teeth in addition to the zit.

Not working has to be the same sensation a hamster feels while running on his wheel, and even worse, Vigi is still gainfully employed. Any guy raised in the same generation as I will understand the self-inflicted guilt over that situation. When I grew up, if guys weren’t the only bread winners they were, at least, the main bread winners. Being a guy was all about bringing home the bacon — or as a friend of mine says, “Putting pork on the fork”. I’m still trying to figure out what comes after the pig products. One thing I know for certain is that reading, puttering or shuffling off after a rent-a-car is not the answer. I can’t just draw a line in the sand and say, “My useful life is back there”.

Recently, I was talking with someone who has made a smooth and highly successful transition into retirement. He offered a simple philosophy that provides a great place to start, whenever you contemplate hanging up your rock ‘n roll shoes for good. He said, “Every day should be Saturday”! Of course, you need to understand that this fellow has just about every great guy toy a grown up kid can think of and still have time to sleep.

Knowing his definition of Saturday, I think I’ll have to plead poverty and settle for Sunday instead — but the philosophy is still the same. Besides, in addition to being more affordable, on Sunday I get to watch football!

You’ll find links for the Bananas Crackers and Nuts Podcast
near the upper right of this page.