))))****SPECIAL RETORT****((((

So special, I had it coming.

For anyone in the blog-o-sphere who cares, I retired on December 1.

Oh…you already knew that?  Well excuse me for…

what was I saying?


Damn that Eggplant Parmesan!  Do you know how much cheese and spaghetti sauce it takes to hide the taste of grey vegetable matter?

I may be forgetful but…

    No, I don’t look like this       

I look like this hair.jpg 

And I can do this and this 

Just a wee bit of difference, wouldn’t you say?

Yes, I retired

For 2 months and 8 days.

There’s something about standing in a food line for 2 hours that screams, “This is not your finest moment!”

Eight eggplants, two cans of spaghetti sauce, a half gallon of almond milk, and a frozen chicken later, I’m looking at my sister-in-law, who has been doing the food line thing for years, and ask, “How do you cook eggplant?”

When you’re 20, you don’t consider the fact that you’ll be living on less than a 16-year-old  makes working in the fast food industry 20 hours a week.

…or that you’ll have to eat



It might’ve helped if I hadn’t cashed out my retirement plan for those Metallica tickets 25 years ago.

But, alas, I digest digress.

As fate would have it, the person taking my place did not inherit the clerical gene, nor was he well endowed with the over abundance of OCD required to keep a non-profit agency from being pay-backed into oblivion because a useless document was two days overdue.   

The phone call I received 2 months and 2 days into that financial hell called “retirement” went something like this:

World’s nicest boss, “Uh….would you…uh…do you think…could you come back to work for a few months until we can…”

Me (silently):

Then, after I finished my happy dance, I said, “Certainly.”

Will I be back at work for a month?  Seven?  The rest of my life?

I think it’s safe to say that I’ll be working for as long as they can stand to have me around.

The one good thing that came from retirement:  Writing!!!!

Unfortunately, it takes money to pay for editing.

Retirement might kill me yet, but I’d rather not have my books die with me.

Don’t be sad for the guy who tried his hand at becoming a useless bureaucrat.  He’s traveling around teaching people important stuff while I’m sitting at a desk doing this.


It’s called a win-win situation.  He gets to use his brain, I get to save money for editing and…