Retired... And I'm Still Tired!: Musings of a Grumpy Old Coot

By Dr. I. Mayputz

I am not a medical doctor, a psychologist, or even a sociologist but an insignificant former pharmacist and newly retired dentist. After a lifelong struggle with a chronic illness and job-related stress, I thought a comedic book on the various aspects of aging might be in order. Though not strictly a memoir, my intentions were to slightly relive

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mr Nick Productions, LLC
• Release date: May 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798218003128

Book preview

Introduction

I am not a medical doctor, a psychologist, or even a sociologist but an insignificant former pharmacist and newly retired dentist. After a lifelong struggle with a chronic illness and job-related stress, I thought a comedic book on the various aspects of aging might be in order. Though not strictly a memoir, my intentions were to slightly relive my life while poking a little fun at the absurd promises made to senior citizens about the good times ahead. At the same time, I want to give hope and encouragement to the many wounded pensioners out there who have almost given up on a normal existence. However, even in retirement, the battles continue. It seems as if the processes of aging and slowing down are not a panacea or as therapeutically rewarding as originally hoped for. What the hell? I was tired while working and I’m still tired, dammit! Retirement was supposed to be a lifetime achievement award, a decadent dessert or a gravy train after a life of hard work. But, instead, it congealed into lumpy gravy, at best. The golden years somehow turned into rusty ones. Let’s explore what happens after you lock up for the last time. Hopefully you will find the stories within the following pages to be humorous and not overly tiring, and you will laugh along with me. Maybe at me, as well!

Enjoy.

Dr. I. Mayputz

1

Be Careful What You Wish For!

Ah, the dreams of mice and men - I mean rats. The dirty rats keep on living while the meek and mild mice succumb. Is that really true? And which rodent do I resemble in retirement? Rats, I refuse to answer that question! As an impressionable teenager I remember raptly listening to my old man at the dinner table, especially when he was rattling on about a dearly departed fellow professor from his civil engineering department. He was just sixty-five years old and kicked the bucket, Pop lamented as yet another one of his close, elderly co-workers died an early death. He retired last week and told everyone! And he didn’t even collect any Social Security. And he and his wife had so many plans, too, said Dad rather glumly as he shook his head in disgust. Life just wasn’t fair. It was almost as if Murphy’s Law was at play: the more you looked forward to something, the less likelihood you had of attaining it. And conversely, did the rascally, rapscallion types of professors get away with being louts and lousy lecturers but kept right on ticking way past their supposed expiration dates? You know it! However, was it all genuine comedic karma or did it just seem that way? He wanted to go to nude beaches, sleep in late and drink Cruzan Rum all day, sputtered Pop after yet another recent collegiate retiree bit the dust. But I will tell you that after a few of those unfortunate workplace-related incidents, Dad only reluctantly and sporadically spoke about any grandiose plans he may have had for his future after retiring. He wasn’t about to foolishly jinx his life that way. He was determined not to tempt the Fates; no way! Instead, he very quietly ended his thirty-plus year tenure at the college in our hometown without hubris or fanfare. He was sixty-five on the button and ready to vacate. He previously had his pension, health insurances, Social Security payouts and Medicare all meticulously figured out. Then he shook hands with his officemate, took one last look around his immaculate cubicle, strode through his office door for the last time, and walked down one hill and up another to our house. It’s as if it was a normal Friday evening and nothing unusual had transpired. The last three decades of his storied teaching career were now an afterthought. And he wanted it that way; he was cautious and superstitious as hell! Wouldn’t you be, too? After officially retiring, he designed and built my sister’s and my house, played plenty of competitive tennis, and journeyed to many countries abroad, even to his beloved Estonia from whence he had emigrated as a youngster. He also got to vacation multiple times in St. Croix, Mexico, and the Bahamas, as well as cruise the Caribbean. Although always playing it close to the vest, he had a long and grand retirement, at least as seen through the eyes of his favorite, only son. However, I never had the chance to really question him on his senior wishes and desires. I had heard persistent and whispered family rumors that he wanted to relocate to southeastern Florida and fish in perpetuity, but that pipe dream never materialized. I guess he had never hooked Mom with that kind of reasoning. Perhaps he died at ninety-one still dreaming of something else which he would never divulge out loud for fear of it backfiring. Maybe my mom knows, but she’s not talking either; she just misses him dearly. Was Dad a mouse or a rat? I don’t know, but he seemed to have navigated admirably through life without stirring up wonton bad luck like the arrogant and foolish Fool in the Tarot deck of cards. However, Pop may have benefitted from strong genetics, too. His father had passed away at age ninety-nine. Perhaps some snippets of that DNA are in me as well. Let’s think positively, but not rock the boat - and not plan too far ahead, either!

2

Spirituality, Piety, or Hedonism?

Simply put, spirituality acknowledges suffering, piety embraces it, and hedonism seeks to avoid it at all costs! And the age-old conundrum on how to live one’s life is influenced by family, friends, environment and heredity. But now that retirement is here, can retirees effectively reverse the previously dominant paradigms, shed established dogmas and finally feel free to fuck around, or to join a latter-day cult? Or, to embrace age-old, as well as New Age, adulterated, Buddhist spiritual teachings? Maybe. Most working stiffs didn’t have the luxury of time to adequately examine their lives in depth while mired in debt, marital woes, child-rearing, etc. LIFE can effectively thwart any meaningful evaluation of LIFE. However, retirees seem to have more seconds on the clock and perhaps they can reflect on, and possibly extricate themselves from, some of the stagnant ruts they fell into all those younger years ago. But is it always a rewarding and joyous quest to suddenly discover that you had messed up your so-called entire existence, at least as compared to your idyllic Facebook and Instagram fiends (that word is spelled correctly)? Ha! An existential crisis can hit anyone, anytime, regardless of age. However, contemplating morbidities and mortality become pressing and depressing endeavors as the geriatric set desperately realizes that there are upcoming and inevitable expiration dates! But can seniors really change things around for the better in a Goddamn hurry? My wife and I have hundreds of self-help volumes embarrassingly lining our family room’s built-in bookshelves. There are the requisite Dyer, Tolle, Ruiz, Lao Tzu, Confucius, and others, all having been read at least once, but now gathering dust. They are all there, however. We even have books on the personality enneagram, mystical shamanism, Prada, universal energy, brain health, and Reiki. Hottie Blondie (my wife’s nickname since our mutual pharmacy college days) and I are also certified, advanced level, Reiki practitioners. Perhaps we are both just certifiable? Anyway, no matter whose literature you read and digest, they all seem to imply similar and universal axioms. And they are: Mindfulness, acceptance, patience, empathy, community, and exercise. I may have left out a few saliant tenets, but you get my point. Now, I don’t mean to demean these ancient, as well as copy-cat, manuscripts of wisdom. But should we now wholeheartedly reach out and find solace and guidance by adulating Tony Robbins and his mesmerizing oratories and writings? Are we to be duped in our dotage while trying to grasp at spiritual salvation straws because our time is almost up? Perhaps, and maybe it is a natural progression of mind over matter. We now have the experience of horrible hindsight, and a cogent word here and there coming out of Covey or Carnegie could really help. How could it hurt, right? Well, maybe in the pocketbook or if you join a Dianetics science! Or at least until the next must-have book comes out when you will have to retool your thinking yet again. I can honestly tell you that mentally devouring these types of books for years has helped my wife and I to think outside the box. However, reality still creeps in; it is damn hard to practice what they preach! Becoming more religious, or at least to acknowledge a