I am nearly 62 years of age. I tolerate the younger set with a few exceptions. I am skilled as both a blue and white collar worker. I know how to properly clean carpets, I can program, I can interpret financial statements, I can program and I can enjoy living (consider the alternative). I can sell a product if I believe in it.
I have thought about retiring but ruled it out for the next nearly 8 years. Life is not about how long you live but the quality of live you afford yourself. Between a pension and Social Security I have the daily expenses covered. I am building up an emergency fund. The house, car, the van nt along with all household furnishings are fully paid for. We pay for utilities, rent, food and an occasional meal out at a local eatery and I have put those on hold for the duration of my working period in life.
I keep my body young with physical exertion. I keep my mind young with programming. Like those of my family who preceded me, I intend to live into my mid 80s at least and probably mid 90s. I am in no hurry to die. I just want to make everyday worth living. Those who are a source of grief for me are not let in to my life, family or outsiders. I throw my thoughts out there as something you can choose to ignore or think about. The choice is yours. What you choose to do has no effect on my enjoyment of life. I am not obligated to make your life better by one iota.
I enjoy the care people have of those of us from the Baby Boomer generation who are now reaching retirement age. I appreciate doors being opened, groceries being carefully bagged, waitresses who honor our presence, younger people who let us get served first. I really like being called Mr. Reno. Yes, life gets better the longer you live it. Remember that, keep it in mind. Businesses do have a tendency to under-value your wisdom and place you at the mercy of those who don’t know what they don’t know. Celebrate the truth that ultimately the same will happen to them and in the meanwhile they can learn to take your order and get you that second cup of coffee. And handicap parking is a benefit of life for the select few, not for the younger ones who drive rice rockets but not real cars and are always in such a hurry.