by Phil Goldstein | NorthFortyNews.com
At the insistence of my mother, my father retired at the age of 63. He would have conceded sooner, but he worried about filling his days. Within weeks, between grandchildren, tennis, cocktail lunches with pals, TV and naps, he confessed that he should have retired sooner.
The lesson wasn’t lost on me, so I set out with the financial and lifestyle goal of having even more carefree years. I retired at age 56 and assumed I’d be as contented as Dad had been with his decision. I lasted two weeks. I didn’t welcome all the free time. I experienced the dreaded… now what?
If you’re reading this and retired, I challenge you to tell me that you absolutely knew what awaited you with all the free time after you stopped working. I’m sure that plenty of people had it all figured out on that first day without the alarm clock’s annoyance, but I sure didn’t.
In retrospect, I missed the identity-fulfilling productivity and relevance, although I surely didn’t think of it that way while working. And while my 27-year career—intercollegiate athletics financial administration—was good to me, it was stressful, hence not always good for me. So, given my self-perceived irrelevance, I tried finding a compromising substitute.
Serendipitously right after my fortnight furlough, the president of a nearby university asked me to serve as her personal advisor on the school’s athletic program. I agreed, provided I’d work only two days a week, thus maintaining some semblance of retirement.
Then, just as that posting ended, I was recruited to an athletics consulting firm. I negotiated the right to accept or decline any assignment, thus again controlling my schedule.
But even with that part-time consulting work, which continued 18 years after ‘retirement’, I still had too much spare time, so I sought other satisfying engagements. And while some of them brought frustrations along with fulfilment, I still felt valued again.
I volunteered for the board of our HOA, but only because nobody else would do it.
I’m now in my 16th year because still, nobody else will do it. I’ve found relevance in our board’s hands-on, resourceful approach to management, but that’s offset somewhat by my obsession with pleasing everyone.
I accepted a Timnath Town Council appointment to the Planning Commission. Three reappointments later, I still find public service rewarding, although I’ve learned that if I want to eat the sausage, I have to see how it’s made.
I agreed to serve on a non-profit board, which purportedly needed my financial administration experience. But I resigned once I realized it was a resume-padding board, not a working board.
Since most everyone else in our community plays golf, I played a few rounds. However, if I wanted that much frustration I’d have continued working.
I increased my workout duration, which of course increased injury downtime, so timewise that was a wash. I learned then taught and coached pickleball and staged clinics and tournaments.
I started a men’s walking group, but when someone kept using my captive audience to complain about the government I faithfully serve, I walked away.
I relearned nap-taking, definitely an acquired skill after the age of four.
I read even more than usual and didn’t watch much TV, but I subscribed to Netflix, hoping that more quality fare would keep me awake later, thus curing my career-long 4am reveille. No such luck, nap or no nap.
Fulfilling a 50-year ambition, I took drum lessons and joined a rock band, which now practices in my basement studio and plays area gigs. And there’s nothing more fulfilling than drumming “Hotel California” before an appreciative audience.
And of course, I dusted off my journalism degree when several area publications, including North Forty News came calling. There’s huge relevance when even one reader tells me they can relate to my work.
On the whole, this retirement thing’s pretty good. But I don’t believe for a minute that you can know what it’s like until you get there. If you prefer the idleness or even just lots of TV, then no problem. If not, you better have a plan for avoiding the dreaded… now what?
Phil Goldstein is in his sixth year writing Tales from Timnath for North Forty News. Phil is a 16-year Timnath resident who is finally using his West Virginia University journalism degree after getting sidetracked 53 years ago. The views expressed herein are Phil’s only. Contact him with comments on the column at [email protected].