Come Retire With Me!

I’m in my 50’s now, rolling toward my Golden Years.  At my age, we think about retirement.  We read about it, too.  Mostly, we think and read about how we can’t retire because we don’t have enough money.  To that, I say “Balderdash!”  (I say that because I like the word “balderdash” but rarely get the chance to use it).  I read somewhere that 20-30% of Americans think winning a lottery is their best chance to pay for retirement.  I don’t recommend that plan. If that many American win the lottery, the pay outs will be so low, you won’t get hardly anything.

If you have a generous pension plan or trust fund or guaranteed inheritance, you may want to stop reading at this point.  Little of this will apply to you.  You have a safety net in place to assure your comfortable retirement.  For the rest of us, it takes some planning.

We can, in fact, retire if we know what to do. First, we must understand what retirement  is not.

Retirement is not unemployment.  Unemployment is the drunk brother-in-law of retirement.  The only thing it has in common with retirement is the lack of gainful employment.  It’s very easy to be unemployed.  AARP doesn’t publish articles on how best to become unemployed.  We all know many tried and true methods:  incompetence, sloth, thievery, amateur pornography, insubordination, felonious behavior, economic downturns, job outsourcing, bad luck and many, many others.

Retirement is not disability.  You might be disabled and thus unable to work.  That sucks, unless you are really a malingerer in which case you’re okay with it.  Regardless, you’re not retired.   You just can’t work.  There’s no retiring from disability, unless death counts.

Retirement is not wealth.  Perhaps you are incredibly wealthy and haven’t really ever worked.  Whether you attained this status through  dumb luck or the largesse of your ancestors, you aren’t retired.   You are a ne’er-do-well or man about town or socialite or some other such fortunate soul.  You can’t retire from those “jobs.”

So what exactly is retirement?  Retirement is where one works his or her ass off for years until the point that he or she can no longer stand it and quits.  Unlike unemployment, the retiree has sufficient income or assets upon which to live some modicum of a decent existence.  Pensions, savings, Social Security, inheritance and the like all qualify.

Now that we know what we’re dealing with, what can we do to be prepared? If you’re my age or older and you haven’t thought about that yet, here’s the plan:  Work until you die. You’ve waited way too long.   Maybe you’ll get lucky and get disabled at some point.  For everyone else, there are few things you can do–or not do, as the case may be.

1. Work.  This one is simple enough.  You can’t retire from doing nothing. Get a job.  Pay your taxes.  Set up an IRA.  Contribute to a 401K if you can.  Every little bit helps.  Better yet, get one of those jobs that pays scads of money, like movie star or hedge fund manager.

2. Live Within Your Means.  We’ve all heard this but spend much of our time either totally ignoring it or looking for loopholes.  Anyone can understand that you shouldn’t spend money you don’t have or incur bills you can’t pay.  That’s pretty basic stuff.  If you don’t understand that, there’s really no hope for you.  Even if you do understand, you aren’t out of the woods.  Read on.

3. Spend Your Own Money. Do you still have your parents around?  If so, good for you.  If they are good people, call and visit them often.  Be helpful to them.  Pay them back for the many years they cared for you.  Don’t mooch off them.  Maybe your parents are generous sorts and willingly give you money and things.  Here’s the deal:  If the only reason you go on vacation or have a car or a house is because your parents still provide for you, you don’t live within your means.  You live within their means.

Of course, many young people depend upon family to help them get started in life.   That’s fine.  If you’re 40 years old, you’re not a young person.  If you haven’t gotten your start yet, it ain’t happening.   Learn to support yourself.

You may be counting on your parents to actually fund your retirement.  That plan may well work.  Unfortunately, unless you mooch off them, it requires their deaths.  That’s a high price to pay to retire.  But, if that kind of thing doesn’t bother you, just look forward to the reading of the will.

It is equally wrong to plan to sponge off your children.  This is particularly true if you have already bled your parents dry.  Your children will be counting on you to support them forever, too.  A cataclysmic clash of cultures awaits sure to tear your family asunder for generations to come or, at the very least, leave you all pondering which unfortunate relatives upon which you can descend.

Another sure sign of not living within your means is borrowing money.  I’m not talking about loans for houses, cars or business reasons.  These are, to a great extent, unavoidable in today’s world.  Have you ever borrowed money to go on vacation?  Here’s a thought–STAY HOME.  How about a “pay day” loan where you can cash your paycheck before you get it?  Here’s word for you to learn:  USURY.

It is axiomatic that drug and gambling debts are red flags.  In fact, all debts are red flags.  If you can’t afford your lifestyle while you’re working, what are the chances you can afford it when you don’t work?

4. Require Others to Live Within Their Means. Nothing good can be said about loaning money to people for personal reasons.  Perhaps you are a business person and you do so as an investment.  Assuming you’ve done your due diligence, that’s a business decision.  Loaning money to people who just need money is like paying someone for doing nothing for you.  Naturally, it can be difficult to refuse a close friend or family member during hard times.  Here are a few responses which can gently dissuade such requests:

  • BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”
  • “What do I look like–a bank?”
  • “What do I look like–an idiot?”
  • “I’m just going to pretend that you never said anything.”

5. Save First, Spend Second.  This is a basic concept.  Save money, then spend–not vice versa. Why? Because we Americans tend to spend all our money.  We like to own things–or at the very least make payments on things.  Famed motorcycle daredevil and spendthrift Evel Knievel once said:

The country singer Garth Brooks once said that he’s made more money than he could ever spend.  Write me a check Garth – I’ll show you how to spend it in 24 hours.

That’s the American way.  It’s also the way to guarantee that you die at work.  Don’t die at work.

It’s Retirement, Stupid.  With these few guidelines, we can all retire if we have reasonable expectations.  You shouldn’t need as much money when you’re retired as you did when you worked.  This is especially true if you have children–that is, assuming they heed the no-mooching rule and get the hell out of your house at some point.

Do you plan to travel the world when you retire?  Good for you, but that takes money–a lot of money.  You can retire without living the lifestyle of a Kardashian.  Excuse my language, but if you can’t afford shit like that NOW, you probably can’t when you retire.  That’s okay, you can still retire.

Here’s what you do.  Work and save money and you should be okay.  Then again, maybe not.  There’s always the lottery.

 ©www.thetrivialtroll.com 2014

5 Ridiculous Things: A Random List

The older I get, the more I hear the same stuff over and over and over.  I guess that’s true of everyone.  What may not be true of everyone is that I don’t repeat this tripe, except to the extent that I make up my own stuff and spread it.

This is largely a phenomenon of the Internet meme.  A meme is an idea or thought which spreads from person to person.  It’s kind of like “word of mouth.”  The Internet has taken this to new level by giving us each access to many more people than would otherwise be available to hear our raving.  For example, this silly blog has been read by thousands of people in dozens of countries.  Why?  Because it’s on the Internet.

The Internet, via social media in particular, allows us to spread rumors and half-truths at the speed of light or at least very fast.  There is so much of this that we have websites such as snopes.com devoted to debunking these myths.  It’s only natural that Snopes must even debunk rumors about Snopes.

I’m now prepared to debunk a handful or particularly irksome thoughts, ideas, etc.  Why?  Because I’m on the Internet, by God.

As always, I offer my view only.  It may be incorrect. You may disagree.  If you do, I respect your right to disagree.  You have the right to be wrong.  I won’t infringe on that.

Below are a few things I’ve heard too much about which simply aren’t true.  Believe them if you wish, but I don’t.  For our purposes here, that’s all that matters.

Here are just five that I don’t buy into.  Sorry, but that’s how it is.  They were chosen at random for no particular reason.

1. PRISON IS GREAT

Ever heard something like this:  Why don’t we treat the elderly like we do prisoners–free room and board; watch TV all day; exercise; and free medical/dental?  This outrage is based upon the notion that prison is great.  It’s great treatment and a wonderful life.  Prison, the thought goes, is too soft.

If you believe this, it’s safe to assume that you’ve never been in prison or talked to anyone who has been.  I’ve known a bunch of people who’ve been in prison.  They are universal on one opinion:  IT SUCKS!  I know a guy who spent three years in a minimum security prison on an Air Force base, one of the so-called “country club” prisons.  He said it was like “waking up in a nightmare every day.”

Here are few things that folks have told me about prison:

  • It’s filthy. No matter what you do, that doesn’t change.
  • You might be allowed to shower once or twice a week.
  • You use the bathroom out in the open.  That includes “major transactions,” too.
  • You are surrounded by violent, dangerous and often mentally ill people.  You live with them, eat with them and spend all the rest of your time with them.
  • Prisoners aren’t known for their fabulous teeth.  No citation of authority is necessary.
  • The free health care consists of seeing a doctor if you are clearly deathly ill (or dead) or if you have been grievously injured by one of your fellow prisoners.
  • The great exercise program consists of hanging out with the same dangerous people, except now they have access to a variety of implements which can be used to kill you.
  • It smells.  Bad.  That’s a common theme from everyone I’ve heard.  It just smells bad.
  • The food is generally horrific.  If you really step out of line, some prisons serve you something called Nutriloaf.
Nutriloaf--One of the many joys of prison life

Nutriloaf–One of the many joys of prison life

Here’s the bottom line:  Prison is horrible.  It’s a nightmare.  I’ve never met any ex-con who speaks fondly of his days in stir nor I have met anyone who wanted to go back.  If it’s such a great life, I suggest you go. The good thing about prison is that it’s really easy to join.

Maybe you know an old person in a nursing home worse than prison.  If so, it’s hard to imagine, unless you put them there because you hate them (see my comments below about old people).  In that case, it’s good enough for them.

By the way, you know what would really suck?  Being old AND in prison.

2. POOR PEOPLE WANT TO BE POOR

Here’s one you’re bound to have heard:  Don’t buy beer or cigarettes or get tattoos or cars or TVs if you’re on welfare.  It’s similar to Michelle Bachmann’s suggestion that the best way to get health insurance is to get a job.  Literally, these statements may be true.  Literally, but not practically.

Perhaps it would be better for poor people not to drink beer or smoke.  That’s probably true for the rich, too,  Tattoos seem to be a generally bad idea to me.  Why not take it a step further and just say that poor people shouldn’t buy magazines or soda or toys for their kids or clothes, for that matter?

I have never been poor.  I wasn’t born poor.  I wasn’t raised poor.  I didn’t pull myself up by the bootstraps.  I don’t even know what bootstraps are.  I’m not a self-made man.  Yes, I am successful, at least by most definitions.  But, I had a lot of advantages–college-educated parents and a comfortable upbringing for two BIG examples.  So, I don’t know what it’s like to be poor.  Most of the people who bitch and moan about poor people also don’t know what it’s like to be poor.

I grew up with poor people.  Some of my friends were poor.  They had one thing in common–they didn’t like it, and were at least slightly embarrassed by it. In Eastern Kentucky, poverty wasn’t uncommon.  We were in a melting pot.  The rich, poor and middle class were all together.  We went to school and church together.  You could be like my family and live well but have neighbors who were poor by any definition.  We got to see it up close, and it’s ugly.

Ever wonder why a lot of poor people turn to drug-dealing?  Was it a life-long ambition?  Is it because they want to accomplish something in life?  Nope.  It’s for the money.  Being poor isn’t good, and most poor people agree.  Yes, there are exceptions, just as there are to every rule.  I’ve known people born into poverty who didn’t aspire to anything better.  What I have NEVER known is someone who wasn’t poor but aspired to be poor, because it is such a great life.

3. PARENTS ARE GREAT

It seems that I’m always hearing about how great everyone’s parents are (were).  Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Grandparents Day, etc.  On Facebook, there are innumerable posts requesting you to “like” them if your parents were saints or your best friends or fabulous.  Let’s be honest, some parents are awful.

Now, I had excellent parents.  They worked hard, cared about their kids and sacrificed a great deal for us.  I was LUCKY.  That’s it.  I didn’t choose them anymore than they chose me.  Someone recently told me that I’m wrong about that–that I was blessed to have good parents.  Perhaps.  But that begs the question:  If I did nothing to be so blessed, what did others do to be cursed with their parents? Nothing, you say?  Then, that sounds like luck–good and bad–to me.

I’ve known people whose parents beat them, ignored them or were just generally crappy to them their whole lives.  These are just horrible people who happened to achieve the none-too-impressive feat of procreation.  You know what these folks deserve for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day?  NOTHING.   As I’ve quoted before, my father once said:  “When I was young, we had plenty of elder abuse, except we called it ‘revenge.'”

So, if you had good parents, good for you, just don’t blow too much about it.  You didn’t have anything to do with it.  If you had rotten parents, it’s okay, too.  You didn’t make them that way.

4. RICH PEOPLE ARE BAD

I’ve written before about hating rich people, so I won’t belabor that.  At the heart of that hate is the belief that the rich are bad.  They aren’t, at least no more so than the rest of us.

Warren Buffett is rich.  Super-rich.  Billionaire-rich.  He once said: “Of the billionaires I’ve known, money just brings out the basic traits in them.  If they were jerks before they had money, they are simply jerks with a billion dollars.”  That makes sense.  Buffett doesn’t seem like to jerk to me.  Maybe he is, but it probably doesn’t have anything to do with having a silo full of money.

Let’s all accept one irrefutable fact:  We all want to be rich.  All of us.  If the rich are awful, then we all aspire to be awful.

5. OLD PEOPLE ARE WONDERFUL

It is a common refrain old people are a “treasure” or a “joy” or sources of “wisdom.”  If you were a miserable ass when you were young, there’s a pretty good chance that’s what you’ll be when you’re old.  Being a fool is likely to get worse with age, not better.  In fact, the older you are, the more people probably realize your true colors.  You just lived a long time.  Big whoop.  Charles Manson is 78.  Mozart died at 35.

Charles Manson, a wise and wonderful old fellow

Charles Manson, a wise and wonderful old fellow

Think about this:  Have you ever known an old person you couldn’t stand to be around?  Of course, you have.  He or she was probably a family member, too.  Some old people become mean with age.  Some were mean to start with and became old and mean.  Not all old people are cute or charming or wise.  Some are ugly, hateful and dumb asses.  It’s hard to outgrow those things.

Well, that’s five things that I have now stripped of their veneer of credibility.  Perhaps, you are an old, rich prisoner who aspires to a life of poverty.  As such, you might disagree with me.  Well, you’re wrong.  So much for your “wisdom,” Pops.

©thetrivialtroll.wordpress.com 2012

What I Know At 50

Living it up on my 50th birthday.

I’m 50 years old.  That’s just ridiculous, but it’s true.  I have no problem with being 50, mind you.  I’ve known plenty of folks who didn’t make it to 50.

50 is the first age I’ve reached that sounds old.  If you’re 50, you’ve been around the block.  Lived life. Done things.  I suppose that’s all true.

If I take a close look in the mirror, I look like I’m 50.  Gray hair, wrinkles, reading glasses.  I avoid full length mirrors. As a friend of mine once said, you know you’re old when you look better in any clothes than in no clothes at all.  50.

50 is a good age, at least so far.  At 50, I know quite a few things.  Of course, by 80 I will have experienced a lot of other things, but I may not know much about them.  After all, I’ll be 80 and may not be firing on all cylinders.

Here are the things I know:

I DON’T KNOW EVERYTHING

Most people my age know everything.  I mean every single freaking thing there is to know.  They know about politics, sports, children, religion, health–everything.  They also don’t hesitate to share their knowledge.  Me?  I don’t know all that much.  Oh, I know a lot about a few things (the law, sports, coal mining, my kids, movies, TV) and a little about a few things (religion, politics, space travel, geography, books, money, my wife and sundry other topics).  Then, there is the vast universe of things about which I know nothing useful or nothing at all (computers, foreign languages, women, art, math, photography, physics, Ayn Rand, the Spanish-American War, George Soros, Broadway, automobile repair, plumbing and many, many other things).

It wasn’t always that way.  Like all of us, I was born knowing nothing.  By the time I was in my teens, I knew everything and held onto that for several years.  In fact, my knowledge level peaked with my actually knowing more than everything, that is, knowing not only all there is to know but also knowing things that aren’t even generally known.

Chart showing the author’s knowledge level in relation to his age. Note that for a brief time in my late teens/early 20’s I exceeded the human capacity level for knowledge of all things.

I estimate that by the time I was 35, I only knew 75% of everything, having learned through fire that I did not know many things I had taken for granted.  For example, by then I had two children and was quite aware that there were many things I did not know, like how to prevent diaper rash.

My knowledge level has continually decreased to the point that I now know only half of everything.  Truthfully, that’s an exaggeration, as I am sure that I don’t know that much.  However, knowing that gives me extra credit and justifies inflating the figure to 50%.

I have some concern that this downward trend will continue.  Perhaps it will.  I am fortunate to have two teenage sons who can fill in the gaps of knowledge with all they know.

Folks my age are fond of saying “If I only knew then what I know now….”  What they really mean is “If only knew then what I think I know now….”  Here’s the deal, if you were young and were as opinionated and grouchy and self-righteous as most people my age, you’d have no friends.  Period.  Remember when you were a teenager.  If you’d had a friend who acted like a 50-year-old man, you would have beaten him with a bag of door knobs.

The best part about knowing that I don’t know everything is that I will sometimes listen to people who know about things that I don’t know anything about.  Then, I learn.

LIVING IN THE GOOD OLD DAYS

My father was fond of saying that there were no “Good Old Days.”  This was primarily because he lived a Dickensian existence of want.  Thanks to him, I lived no such childhood.  Nevertheless, I agree wholeheartedly with his assessment, albeit for different reasons.

These are the good old days for me.  I’m healthy.  I have a good job.  I like my job.  I have disposable income.  My children are healthy and seem to be fairly decent sorts.  I have a good wife. I do most of what I want to do when I want to do it.  No one tells me what time to go to bed or get up or where to go or what to do when I get there.

Hey, what about the teen years?  Don’t you want to live that again?  ARE YOU CRAZY?  I had fun as a teenager, especially college, but I wouldn’t do that again for anything.  The angst, the drama, the idiotic decisions.  Being a teenager is best left to the teens.  By the time they realize they and their friends are idiots, they’ll be my age.

Here’s something that’s cool.  I’m not far away from the age where I can hug young women and say inappropriate things and be dismissed as “sweet.”  I’m not there, yet, though.  I’m still young enough to be considered creepy and dangerous.

I’M AN ADULT

I’m an adult. I’m 50.  I can eat pork rinds for dinner if I want.  Last night, I ate a huge piece of cheesecake.  I can do that for breakfast, too.  I can stay up late (assuming I don’t naturally just fall asleep–not insubstantial risk after sundown). These are all good things.

I also have credibility.  At 50, I’m a grown man, you know.  Gray hair helps (on a man, that is).  I look like I might know a few things.  I can call people “son” or–if I’m on edge–“boy.”

Gray hair means I’m worldly and must be taken seriously

Reading glasses also lend an air of respectability.  I can take them off and gesture with them.  I can look at things and give the impression that I’m really paying attention.  I can chew on the ear piece to appear to be deep in contemplation.

Your author demonstrates how the use of a $10 pair of reading glasses creates an authoritative aura lacking in today’s youth.

Young people have none of these tools available.  Much like wearing a tie, these simple accoutrements makes life easier.  Below is an example of my foolish efforts to be taken seriously in my youth:

At age 26, your author naively believed that such things as a coonskin cap and a noisemaker would make others respect him.

When I go to Starbucks or a restaurant, pretty young women call me “honey” and “sweetie.”  Okay, it’s a little patronizing, but I like it.  Recently, a comely lass at the gym asked me how old I was and whether I used a trainer.  “I still got it,” I thought and responded:  “I’m 49, but I don’t use a trainer.”  She said: “Oh, I just wondered.  My dad is 45 and wants to get in shape.”  Oh well.

Mostly, it’s all good.  People call me “Sir” and “Mister.”  Some of my kids’ friends’ parents even call me “Mister.”  I don’t correct them. I like it.

KIDS ARE GOOD

Most people my age have children, or so it seems.  I’m glad I have children.  They’ve been fun and only occasionally have I wanted to kill them.

When I was young, I didn’t know if having kids would be important or not.  Then, I had one.  Man, oh, man, was it important!  I changed many, many diapers.  I got thrown up on–not to mention other bodily discharges.   I was fascinated.  Still am.

I’ve blogged about kids before, so I won’t wear you out with that again.  My point:  I’m glad I have kids, and they’ve kept me young.  At 50, I have a ten-year old son.  That’s very cool.

DON’T DISCOUNT LUCK

No one likes give credit to luck.  But, like Ignatius P. Reilly bemoaning  in A Confederacy of Dunces, “Oh, Fortuna…”, we will give luck all the blame.  I’ve found luck to be a valuable asset.

Like most people, my ego whispers in my ear telling me that I deserve all the good things but none of the bad.  I deserve the good, of course, because I’ve earned it, by God.  The bad stuff is caused by everyone else or just plain old bad luck.

Branch Rickey said that “Luck is the residue of design.”  I don’t know what the hell that means.  Another Baseball Hall of Famer, Grover Cleveland Alexander said: “I’d rather be lucky than good.”  I know what that means, and I agree with it.

Grover Cleveland Alexander was a wise–and hard living–man. He looked like this at 40. Maybe he’d run out of luck.

I’ve had more than my share of good luck.  I’ve been married 24 years.  I’d love to take credit for that, but luck plays a role.  I’m lucky she married me and lucky she puts up with me.  I’m lucky to be alive.  I’ve done a stuff that could have killed me, but it didn’t.  Luck.

I’ve had bad luck, too, like everyone else.  I quit saying “Why me?” a long time ago.  Now, I say “Why not me?”  Luck cuts both ways, but I’m glad I’ve had more good than bad.

LIGHTEN UP

I’m not that important.  Seriously.  Neither are you.  Sorry, but it’s true.  If you’re lucky (that word again!), your family and maybe a few friends think you’re important.  Maybe your dog, too.  That’s about it.

What about work?  If you think you’re important in your job, try this:  Quit.  I did that one day.  Just quit a job I’d had for 18 years.  They were fine with it.  If you quit, some people will want you to stay, some will be glad to see you go and all of them will forget about you in a few weeks.

Of course, it’s possible that you actually are really important in your job.  Maybe you’re the best there is.  If you are, I’m willing to bet you monumentally suck at something very important in your life.  Back off your job and take a look at some of those other things.

You could also just die–the ultimate test of your importance.  The downside is that you may not be able to see what happens next.  Here’s what happens.  A handful of people are really upset, a few are concerned and most don’t give a damn.  That’s it.

Life isn’t a long, slow trudge to the grave.  At least it shouldn’t be.  Work, politics, religion, taxes, injustice–all those things will survive after I’m long gone.  Lighten up.

Once I lightened up (and it took years to do), I learned my final, most important lesson.

LIFE IS GOOD

When Leon Trotsky was living in exile in Mexico, he famously penned in his journal “Life is beautiful.”  He wrote this knowing that assassins were after him and would soon succeed in their quest.  And they did.  I used to think Trotsky was a nut.  He wasn’t.

Life is beautiful.  Not only that, it’s good, too.  It took me a long time–too long–to believe that.  Why is life good?  Here’s why:

  • Laughing
  • Things that smell good
  • Little kids
  • Kissing
  • Sports
  • Books
  • Movies
  • The Internet
  • Naps
  • Food
  • Friends
  • Microwave Ovens
  • Television
  • The beach

We all enjoy at least some of these.  If you don’t, you’re missing out, and it would suck to be you.

©thetrivialtroll.wordpress.com 2012