After committing decades to scrimping, saving, frugalizing and general indentured servitude, I have looked deep within and determined it’s time to retire and enjoy my remaining life. The only snag comes courtesy of those darn online life-expectancy calculators — all of which suggest my remaining life will extend a dozen years past the demise of my savings.
Which makes me wonder why, six years ago, I bothered to adopt a healthy, active, nutritionally balanced lifestyle. Retirement would be firmly in my grasp if only I’d embraced donut brunches, whisky lunches, and a casual crystal meth habit. Fortunately, in spite of my ill-considered healthy proclivities, I doubt I’ll actually survive those extra 12 years on $0. So I guess that’s the upside — albeit one with its own significant downside.
Still, retirement is an intriguing prospect — but not because I want to spend my days roasting in the sun on some tropical beach; or playing golf; or taking pottery classes; or chasing kids off my lawn. I don’t even want a lawn! Rather, it’s because I need time to work on things that really matter. I’ve got albums to record; electronic music performances to give; maybe I’ll even get around to finishing that opera I started in 1991. There are photo books yet to shoot, curate and publish; exhibitions to plan. Perhaps a tome of antiwisdom, or even a screenplay awaits. Maybe I’ll even direct it. The world is awash with job opportunities just waiting to pay me with a pocketful of smiles and a fistful of legacy. If only goods and service providers didn’t prefer their invoices be paid with nifty plastic Canadian bank notes.
Between the time spent being someone’s employee; the time spent reclaiming my soul after doing so; the bill paying; the inordinate amount of effort needed to rectify other people’s screw ups; the cooking; the cleaning; the sleeping; and all the general health requirements dictated by the life expectancy calculator, I still manage to set aside 14 minutes of “me” time per day. 14 minutes of “me” time per day works out to 7 hours of “me” time per month — which, not coincidentally, is about how long it takes to squeeze out another mediocre ULTRAsomething article (though I often have to forgo a couple nights of sleep in order to finish).
In fact, the only reason ULTRAsomething is still hanging around is it helps scratch my creative itch. Unfortunately, my creative itch is a bad case of poison ivy, peppered in chigger bites, and wrapped in poison oak — while ULTRAsomething is but a teaspoon of expired calamine lotion.
The ticking of time has become a thundering pulse — a relentless reminder that meaningful creations will require more effort than a smattering of minutes can provide. A megafied ULTRAsomething — complete with content that matters and long-term, large-scale projects — that’s my retirement goal.
I’ve long dreamed of finding an employer for whom my skills and passion have value, thus negating the need to ever retire. Or a patron of the arts who actually connects with my idea of what constitutes art. Alas, if I haven’t found them yet, they probably don’t exist. Which means the scrimping, saving, frugalizing and general indentured servitude must continue ad infinitum. I’m not sure exactly how long “infinitum” lasts, but it sounds like an awfully long time. Too long, actually. Anyone know where I can find a really good french cruller and a reliable supply of quality crystal meth?
©2019 grEGORy simpson
ABOUT THE ARTICLE & PHOTOS:
If this article seems a bit short, there’s a good reason: I burned a significant quantity of my 14 minutes/day (and several additional nights’ sleep) exploring the technological needs of a potential larger-scale electronic music project. Which probably had a whole lot to do with inspiring this essay.
The accompanying photos may or may not have meaning. I’ll let you decide. They were, however, all taken with digital cameras (one on a Ricoh GR; and two on a Ricoh GRIII) ’cause who has the time to develop and scan film?
REMINDER: If you find these photos enjoyable or the articles beneficial, please consider making a DONATION to this site’s continuing evolution. As you’ve likely realized, ULTRAsomething is not an aggregator site — serious time and effort go into developing the original content contained within these virtual walls.
This is funnier than the other one.
Hi, Fred. I’m not sure what “the other one” is to which you refer. But, for the record, I write every article with the intention that it be a dry and serious discourse on existentialism and the human condition. Some, as you have noted, fail my solemnity aspirations more than others.
Oh, I’m just playin’ with you. . . I think all your posts are hilarious. “The other one” is all of them. Don’t stop till you drop.
Fred
Egor I never let distractions interfere with my work day with the exception of your article posts. When they pop up in my email I immediately click. Thank you.
“ULTRAsomething: Diminishing worker productivity since 2008” I’ll admit, it has a nice ring to it.
These pictures are better than the other ones
🙂
I share your idea of what constitutes retirement and, very likely, similarly precarious financial circumstances, but possibly not your ambition.
I was offered the chance of an exhibition in January. It took its toll and I told my friends I wouldn’t be doing this again – I was too old. What I didn’t know was I’d been suffering coronary heart disease for over a year and it was now about as bad as it could get.
By chance, I saw a new doctor who diagnosed it in the nick of time. In March I was admitted to the nearest cath lab and was fitted with three stents. On my last day in hospital I got an email inviting me to be guest artist at a local arts group’s summer exhibition. Unexpectedly I have a new lease of life and another exhibition to look forward to. I had thought it was all over.
You can’t predict the future, Egor, you can’t see what’s round the corner. You just have to do the thing you do while you can.
Ronnie: Glad to hear you’re on the mend and that you have a new exhibition on the horizon! Now that you have blood pumping through your heart again, this one’s bound to be a lot easier… though, you still might want to moderate your haggis intake. :-p
Don’t you start… I’ve enough people nagging me already 😉
Wouldn’t be so much of a problem if one of your passions were dangerous. Motorcycle riding, perhaps?
Man, don’t take the poison just yet. You sounded like me a few years ago when I decided to retire and just travel with my camera to find the things that interested me. Kind of funny that so many of us live long enough to find disappointment in that work environment that ruled our lives for far too long. The good news is that there’s plenty of life in the post-grind world, but the catch is that you have to find it for yourself, or create it for yourself.
Egor,
Check out Russian (in broad sense of the word) food stores nearby, e.g. “Red Square” and “A Taste Of Ukraine”. Introduce yourself as Egor – stressing the second syllable – and ask for something to moderate one’s life-expectancy. E.g. Ukrainian salo (cured slabs of fatback) and Russian vodka. The knowledgeable staff may recommend other, equally delicious methods.