By day a mild-mannered janitor, by night an off-duty mild-mannered janitor.

By day a mild-mannered janitor, by night an off-duty mild-mannered janitor.
................by day a mild-mannered janitor, by night an off-duty mild-mannered janitor...............

Friday 2 April 2021

'Retirement, as a thing'

Hello! I'm 55!

Don't worry, you haven't missed my birthday. You have missed when it was, but you won't have missed it. I could've piped up on Twitter and told everyone when it was, in the hope that ALL my followers would wish me well. But then I'd have to thank them all, and before that I'd realise no one on Twitter gives much of a toss about when my birthday is, which is worse. Anyway, I got loads of birthday notifications on Facebook, which I ignored because I don't do Facebook anymore.

Let's not get too bogged down in who's birthday it is, when it is, or if anyone cares. This "piece" (and it is a piece) is about retirement. 

I can remember when things were all Thatcher, and working people seriously thought about retiring at 55. This was before Robert Maxwell screwed everyone over, and several recessions coshed the idea on the head. I think it's safe to say that many of us think of the retirement age to be "in your 60s" or "Christ-know's-when". But, because I can remember those days, and I'm 55, the thought of retirement has popped into my head, rent-free.

At school it took me ages to get the hang of being at school. I pretty much hated the whole thing, until just before it was time to leave. Then (and only then) did I realise the next step was work. Perhaps I was lazy (aside: I was lazy), perhaps I was not that bright, but it hadn't crossed my mind that I could ever hold down a job. I had no idea what I could actually do, and the thought of trying things (only to find out I was rubbish at them) meant the whole plan was out of the question.

So I went to art college for four years and ended up being a very successful kitchen porter.

Now to the present day, and the transition from 'Working Me' to 'Retired Me' is similar to the transition from 'School Me' to 'Earning Me': I have no idea what I need to be able to retire, I don't know if I want to, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to. 

First of all, what is retirement? One problem here is that retirement can mean different things to different people...

1) You work for a firm for a long time, and when your time comes (55, 60, 65 etc.) you (in the words of Alan Partridge) get given a big picture of a Spitfire and "off you go!"

2) You give up the 9 to 5 (or 10 to 5 if you're Mark E Smith), but "keep your hand in". (I remember Jeremy Vine having a phone-in on retirement, pensions and the then-current recession. This architect rang in basically to boast that despite retiring, he still earned shit-loads of cash by doing a few hours work a week. JV told him his call had little relevance to the discussion, because he wanted views from people affected by the recession, but the guy didn't seem bothered. The bastard.)

3) You use your new-found spare time to try selling those pottery ashtrays you like making, or cakes, or thimbles, whatever.

4) Like that ballet dancer in the government ad, you retrain in cyber. For whatever reason.

I've been told my current job (I'm a dog walker) kind of doesn't count as a job, because I enjoy it. In the words of Bertie Wooster, there's "something in that". In fact, what I do seems the sort of thing someone might do if they'd retired from doing a proper job. We' could be talking somewhere between 2) and 3) on the above scale. So why would I want to retire? The lovely idea of working somewhere you hate for 40 years, then on your retirement day turning up late, shouting "SO LONG, SUCKERS!" and kicking the photocopier on the way out is not available, sadly. I don't hate any of the dogs, or their owners, and none of them have photocopiers. To me, retirement (in its purest form) means "I have enough money to not have to walk the dogs, or I'm too knackered to walk dogs anymore." More likely the latter. 

All well and good, but it's not just about me (although it has mostly been about me). 

Thoughts on retirement, as a thing: Lord Sir Alan Sugar OBE MBE Whatever has billions, BILLIONS of pounds. He's proud of it, and not shy of telling people about it. Why doesn't he retire? How much more can he need? "But Ed," pipes-up Sir Al, "it's the need to carry on making money which keeps me going. If I'd ever settled for what I had, I might've still made millions, but it's that drive for more that turns it into billions. And I want a solid gold horse, and a fleet of aircraft carriers for my planes, and truffle sandwiches every half-hour..." You get his drift *twirls index finger around temple*.

Less extreme example: that guy who rang Jeremy Vine. Yeah, he was hateful.  

Some people won't stop working because they're afraid of what retirement might do to them. Afraid of boredom. Afraid of stagnating. Etc. Or there's my dad, he couldn't wait to retire. He'd worked for the same people for ever, and knew there were decades of prospective television to enjoy. I remember being that arsehole son who questioned the path he'd chosen, but thankfully a good friend put me right: "Don't be an arsehole Ed, he's earned the right to do exactly what he wants." 

Some won't stop working because they can't. I worked with a chef who was planning to do a "my dad" at 55, but was scammed out of his retirement pot, and couldn't see retiring before 65 (or later) as a result. Big Sir Al Shuggs could find enough down the back of his sofa to help out, but his drive to make mo' money would stop him doing so. There's no sentiment in business, and so on. Seriously Al, get a grip.

Another friend retired when he reached 60. He had little or no money left after some bad luck (and bad decisions), but he started getting his pension and that was enough for him. Despite getting into financial difficulties (caused by living as if still earning his working wage), he refused to consider employment again. "I'm retired!" was the answer to any advice on how to get back on financial track. It didn't end well.

I think retirement could be an abstract concept. There, I said it. Could the chef announce at 55, "I am retired" despite having to carry on working? That architect pill was still "employed" despite being retired, so it definitely works the other way. Perhaps retirement is a philosophy. Yes, I said that as well. Imagine starting your first job and announcing "I'm retired" on the first day. "Then kicking the photocopier on the way out?" No silly, just going through your adult life as if retired.

Hopefully we're all at least semi-retired: not afraid of simply existing without purpose, nor doffing our caps to some dreadful boss. Whatever your lot, I hope you're happy with it.








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