and another of me in the hobby cubby area selecting my next vinyl project.
It's been 8 months and 15 days since I retired, as indicated by the date reference in the title of this post (properly read as "R-date eight point one five"). And as much as I strive to keep the important things in my life the same, as Don Henley wrote "Everything is different now." Here are a few notes on point.
When I was working I had a routine (yes, this is a gross understatement). It involved tight schedules, appointments with clients, due dates, stressful air travel commitments imposed by the business community and minimal supervision by the front office (my director). I now have a groove, a much more pleasant word than routine. The groove consists of tentative plans, get-togethers with friends, only a passing knowledge of what day it is, cruising in my Chevy crossovers, commitments imposed mostly by the medical community and what I would term a bit closer supervision by the new front office (known to most as My Lovely Bride). Overall, a big trade up despite the uptick in doctor visits and marital oversight.
The word "routine" connotes rigor, monotony and predictability. Groove, on the other hand, brings a smile to most faces and thoughts of comfort, ease, pleasantness and yes - still a measure of predictability. There are just certain activities one must undertake in life whether working or retired, things that we shouldn't let fall through the cracks. Many involve cleanliness and hygiene. Actually, I would say most now involve cleanliness and hygiene.
But offsetting any sameness between a routine and a groove is the game-changing difference of timing. Routines fit events into available time, often with the fun things hitting the cutting room floor. A case in point are those who have been unable to attend our renewed Lunch Bunch outings because of crowded work schedules (for a little more on this renewal see the note at the end of my previous post Hangin' with the Ps).
In a groove, time is allocated to events as needed. The issue is just how much time does an event need, to unfold exactly how I want it to. This is huge. Of course, one disclaimer is warranted. Regardless of what world you live in - working or retired - a family or medical emergency can take over your life. But absent such an exigency, the groove rules.
I will admit that in order to provide sufficient time for the lounging and other fun stuff, I've had to slightly alter the structure of the calendar week. In our household we've moved Monday to Tuesday and pushed Tuesday to just Tuesday night. Wednesday is still Wednesday all except for Wednesday night. That's now Thursday. And Thursday is now Friday. If you've followed the math, these changes result in four day weekends. The old Friday is now First Saturday, the old Saturday being Second Saturday. Likewise the old Sunday is now First Sunday with Monday, previously moved to Tuesday, now Second Sunday. This may seem a bit complicated, and it does wreak havoc with TV listings. But compressing the "deal with the outside world" part of the week to three of the old days hasn't been a problem.
Fitness is another aspect of life that is different in retirement. When I was working there were always good excuses for slugging down some comfort food, tapping the jug of pre-mixed Manhattans kept on hand for emergency mood management purposes, or putting off that treadmill session or brisk walk around the neighborhood, especially on those days I had put in 10-plus hours on the job (yes, middle-management is the same everywhere). In the groove, such excuses are no longer available.
Those past half-hearted attempts at fitness programs have been replaced by an unfortunate state of unlimited opportunity. Now fitness actually consists of regular exercise, thoughtful and nutritional menus, only moderate imbibing (no real mood issues anymore) and sleep whenever desired. And because of it, I've lost 15 pounds. Who'd a thunk that stuff really works?
Quality time with my spouse has also morphed, from discussions about parenting, household maintenance and calendar conflicts to consideration of which movie we should see this week on the big screen, what club to hit off the next tee, and who wants which seat for the morning fire-coffee-Deep Space 9 pajama sessions (I usually opt for a barrel chair - Kody prefers the bean bag snugged up to the hearth).
Of course, the old business creeps into the conversation from time to time. The house and the cottage need to be maintained, bills need to be paid and the pantry must be restocked. But the percentage of marital conversation dedicated to these items has dropped from the high 70s before retirement to less than 10% in the RDate era. We still have our private times, early in the day for Nancy and late in the day for me (based on our historically staggered sleep schedules), but that's okay. I've always maintained that it's similarities that make a marriage strong but differences that make it interesting. That private time gives us space to hone those differences.
Watching TV has changed, too. During the "routine" years, each of our family members had their favorite shows. The Burk girls loved the old Thursday night line up anchored by The Office and 30 Rock. Later, their interests shifted to Wednesday night with Modern Family and The Middle. For me, it was West Wing and Law and Order on Wednesdays and Farscape on Fridays. We followed these shows religiously, anticipating each week's new offerings. They were sort of guilty pleasures the time for which we protected from our busy schedules of housework, homework and the inevitable overflow of office work.
Now, it's marathon sessions with DVD boxed sets. No more waiting until next week to see Jean-Luc Picard's next adventure or to find out if Jed Bartlett will win a second term. In the groove, it's so easy to pop in and watch a four-episode disk without moving except to answer the call of nature and refill your cup. And with modern technology you can do this from just about anywhere - out on the deck or even in the gazebo. I know some rainy day in the future I'll slug through an entire season of 24 in, well, one day.
And one more area where I've noticed change - shopping. Any kind. Could be a trip to the mall for household items, the market for food, or just to the drugstore or hardware store for needed supplies. These trips used to be chores. We did them only when absolutely needed, and then only if someone else was unwilling to do them. Now, they're outings. A chance to clean up, maybe even shave, and get out of the house. A chance to see what outside air feels like and to keep one's driving skills up. A chance to slip out of the groove for a period of time and go - on an adventure. I know. Pathetic.
Well, enough retirement commentary for today. But before I go, here are a couple of old Lunch Poetry invitations from the past, for those of you following this series (I have been remiss lately in sharing these). The first was penned in May of 1997 when a few days earlier I had learned that the Taco Bell had been closed, padlocked even. This one's called Just Desserts, a reference to what had been declining service at the Bell in recent weeks. It's set to the meter of The Pokey Little Puppy.
Oh, where oh where is the
pokey little restaurant?
And, why oh why did it close?
Were they broke?
Someone choke?
Did a customer finally croak?
Maybe, just as well that
no one knows.
A week or so later Estelle of the Bell discovered the news and was overheard wailing the following, entitled Loss of Habitat:
"Oh no!" said Estelle to her date.
"Plywood windows? A horrible fate."
She cried, "Woe is me,
The Bell is finis!
I guess I'll have to go straight."
From the lab, until next time.
You need more stuff.
ReplyDeleteI know. I suggested to My Bride that we take out the furnace to make room for more shelving, but I got "the look".
DeleteAll this time, people have been striving toward the 4-day work week. And you have triumphed with the 4-day weekend. You are, as always, my hero.
ReplyDeleteWhen can I retire?
ReplyDeleteI'm with you Cathy. Leili asks me at least 2-3 times a week. When I say 30 years, she grumbles that she can't wait that long to play Candyland with me all day.
ReplyDelete