The older I get, the more concerned I become with what I’ll do with myself after I reach retirement age. I suppose that age is 65, which, to me, is rather arbitrary. As of this moment, I don’t plan on acting any differently the moment I reach my alleged retirement, but the more I look around at folks who already have, the more I worry.
Have you ever watched what the average old man does? I mean, really watched? It’s terrible. By and large, old men do a lot of sitting on couches and roaming around the garages that used to play host to productive activities. Nothing productive really goes on in these garages anymore because old men either slow down to such a degree as to avoid doing or needing to have done anything real or they pay people to do whatever it was they used to do. So basically, old man garages are echoes of what used to be, which leaves these people standing to ponder brighter days that once were. It’s so depressing to watch and even think about.
Do you know what else old men do? They accompany their wives during trips to Costco. They sit in the passenger seats of their very reasonable Subaru-like vehicles and have their wives drive them around to pick up pills, go grocery shopping, and buy gigantic packages of toilet paper. Maybe, if they’re lucky, their wives will let them purchase a 12-pound package of salmon fillet. Because it was on sale. Again, if you aren’t depressed by this point, I’m not sure what’s wrong with you.
When Laura and I used to live in Palm Coast, I once saw a couple who seemingly relocated to the area weeks or months before. I’m not sure how I knew they had recently relocated, but I had a feeling. I watched as the couple wandered through the aisles of Publix, holding hands in silence, very slowly glancing at the groceries they might want to purchase for the coming week. The exact reasoning for my interest in this couple alludes me now, but I’m sure I said to myself somewhere along the way, “Please shoot me if I end up like either of these people.” Their apathetic nature disturbed me. Both individuals were utterly dull. If there had ever been any love between either of these folks, it had evidently evaporated long ago. I imagined them living up north in some suburb of Hartford or New York City or perhaps even Trenton and being fascinated by the idea of retiring to Palm Coast. “There’s no snow,” they’d tell their friends. And they’d continue, “Yes, our home is being built right now and we have a move-in date of January 3. We’re super thrilled about our new lives. We plan on becoming involved with the community.” Eventually, they moved into their new home, became bored with it within weeks, never involved themselves with the community, and wondered why they ultimately wanted a divorce. Ugh. But really, I’m not sure why I bring this particular couple into this post when the fault of their existence together could have been placed with either one of them individually. Maybe though, they were simply a malfunctioning dyad. I honestly don’t know. I still blame the man though – I got the sense he was supposed to be in charge. He gave up somewhere along the way and his wife followed his lead.
A dull existence isn’t to be blamed solely on location, to be sure. I see old men who have nothing to do here in Maine all the time. The thing is, I’m not sure they ever spent their days doing anything interesting. Perhaps these people I witness – driving around aimlessly, puttering about their property with wheelbarrow in hand, chipping ice from their rooflines with a spear-like shovel weren’t all that productive to begin with. Maybe they’re lower on the scale of intellectualism. I suppose they may lack purpose, which brings me to the crux of this post. What’s a guy to do as he enters and lives through old age?
Productivity, Intellect, & Purpose
First and foremost, every single man who’s worth his salt will steer clear of the television. He will not, in any way, shape, or form, watch the 6 o’clock news. He won’t watch the weather forecast and he’ll know little of politics. He’ll avoid the internet, his phone, and any app that may be calling his name. YouTube is not a friend. Facebook, Instagram, and their ilk were purposefully and specifically created to turn once fully-functioning minds into mash potatoes. The human psyche was never meant to absorb advertising at the rate social media produces it and please don’t get me going on memes, the most moronic idea and word humankind has created as of yet.
What I just mentioned above are not friendly things. They’re utter thieves of the one most valuable commodity available to every living soul on earth – time.
I think about this topic far too often. I don’t want to become a man who sits and watches television all day long and who has no purpose. The truth of the matter is though, as people age, their relevance fades. If I became a multi-ranked Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu coral belt in 10 years, I highly doubt many students would take me seriously enough to listen to my advice, no matter how often I displayed the belt. Maybe the white belts would be impressed during the beginning of their training by my achievement, but the moment they rolled with me and learned how deteriorated I truly was, they’d surely stop listening. I’d be like the man standing on the road in front of his neighbor’s home while a tree is being removed. I’d fail to resist the temptation of telling the professionals, “You know, I used to do this same job when I was younger…” As if they care. And as if any of the 20-somethings would actually believe I had been privy to the modern equipment they’d surely be taking advantage of. Back when I actually did do tree work, my fellow workers and I were forced to listen to an old timer tell us about how his worn out hand saw is, “Faster than any chain saw you fellas use today!” Sure, old man. Sure it is.
I’ve come to conclude a worthy old age experience will revolve around using my mind. So instead of being a bored old man who wanders around looking for something…anything to do, I’ll be one who uses my brain and who accomplishes things. Pretend you’re sitting next to your grandfather. Pretend you ask him what he’s been up to and pretend he answers the way you’d expect. “Oh, nothing much. Your grandmother has me trimming the hedges. I also helped dry the dishes this morning.” Really? That’s it? These kinds of answers makes me want to slap someone.
Now pretend he responds with something like, “What have I been up to? What haven’t I been up to? Your grandmother and I just returned from a trip to the Cotswolds where we hiked and photographed for two weeks using my old-school 1976 Canon AE-1 35mm camera. Come check out my new darkroom where I process my film. Oh yeah, I’ve also been writing for a magazine and I recently purchased a beautiful new tweed suit. It’s real Harris tweed!”
The latter is the type of man I’d like to be. A man who sits outside Café Kitsuné in Paris, sipping expresso. I’d like to be a man who photographs and blogs and writes for people who haven’t the wherewithal to write. Secretly, of course. I’d need no credit. I’d write for the sake of writing. I’d also like to read and buy used books as if all the authors had ceased their authoring and no new books were being published. I’d like to remain productive. I’d like to buy ingredients for dishes I’d prepare for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I’d like to find a pub near where we’d live and drink Guinness like it’s the medicine it is. I’d like to walk and talk and sit to discuss the finer things in life. I’d like to build things and analyze design with those who know much more than I do. I’d like to study history and visit places and learn about society and culture. And one day, I’d like to surprise Laura with a dog. We haven’t had one of them in a long while. And oh yeah, I’d also like to surprise her with a gîte. She’s an entrepreneur and she’d love the income.
I’d also like a motorcycle, but we’ll discuss that another time.
What I really don’t want to do is end up being boring and dull. An unproductive and unintellectual old man who has no purpose. Why? Because there are already too many of that type and I really don’t think the world needs another.
