One Thing or Another: Brave New Retirement
By Mark McNease
It’s always One Thing or Another… a lighthearted look at aging, life, and the absurdities of it all.
“What day is it?”
It took me very little time after retiring from full-time work to ask this question, common among the post-job legions. After spending years with a life organized around a work schedule, one of the first things you may notice when the schedule is gone is that you’re uncertain if it’s Monday, Sunday, or some other day of the week you used to spend punching a time clock of one kind or another. For myself, I’d invested the previous five years staffing a deli counter at a grocery story, Thursday through Sunday. I’d called it my semi-retirement job, since I only had to put in thirty-two hours a week in exchange for benefits. The main reason was to provide health insurance for myself and my husband, and I’d promised myself that as soon as he was on Medicare, I was out of there. And I was!
It’s early days for me in this less restricted life. I can go to weekend festivals again. When we take our two-night getaways, they don’t have to be early in the week, when the hotel rates are cheaper but most of the restaurants are closed. I’d enjoyed that for a long time, but now we can book a room somewhere for whatever nights we want to be there, and it’s almost an overdose of freedom.
One Thing or Another: Reunited And It Feels So Old
By Mark McNease
It’s always One Thing or Another… a lighthearted look at aging, life, and the absurdities of it all.
If you’re reading this you’re probably old enough to remember the 1978 hit, Reunited, by Peaches and Herb. That song came out a year after my high school graduation, and it seems an appropriate choice now that I’ve been invited to our 45th reunion. I can’t make it this year because we’re going on our annual vacation to Provincetown. Had I been able to attend, it would have been a first: I have not gone to any reunion since leaving Indiana three days after snatching my diploma and packing up my orange Gremlin to head to California. It was a stick shift with no spare tire, but I made it across the continent, and only went back every year to see my parents until they passed away. After that, Indiana became a place to store memories, some of them great, many of them deservedly faded.
I’m not someone who insists that age is a number—tell that to my bones. Age is real. Days pass, weeks pass, years pass, and every living thing ages in the march of time. I’ve also given instructions to euthanize me on the spot if I ever say that anyone is so-many-years young. I would be mortified as well as humiliated if, should I live that long, anyone calls me ninety years young. It’s patronizing and patently false.
One Thing or Another: Out With the New
By Mark McNease
It’s always One Thing or Another… a lighthearted look at aging, life, and the absurdities of it all.
As another year begins and we make promises to ourselves, if not outright resolutions, why not stop and consider the changes we don’t want to make? The things about our lives that we’re pleased to have in them: events, people, situations, even qualities about ourselves we would not change. I quite like most of my life, and while I want to lose some serious poundage for health and vanity, I can’t say there are many other things I would change about it.
One Thing or Another: Why November?
By Mark McNease
It’s always One Thing or Another… a lighthearted look at aging, life, and the absurdities of it all.
November seems like an orphan month, stuck between the festivities of Halloween and the extravagance of Christmas. It’s that month when we wave goodbye to moderate weather, and say hello to furnaces and fireplaces. We watch leaves fall helplessly, their spectacular colors melting to a dull compost brown. November has a way of confirming our suspicions that nothing lasts forever. We get the tires checked or replaced, knowing they’ll soon be slipping and sliding in winter weather. We twiddle our thumbs, waiting for sleigh bells and gift ideas. November is just there, like a stretch of time spent in a waiting room. Eventually the door will open and we’ll be invited to the party, but in the meantime we’ll be reading a magazine on dental hygiene and hoping for the best.
One Thing or Another: The Joys of Being a (Almost) Halloween Baby
By Mark McNease
It’s always One Thing or Another … a lighthearted look at aging, life, and the absurdities of it all.
I’m reprinting this column as an annual tradition. The pandemic changed things dramatically last year, but Halloween is back. Nothing can keep a good witch down!
October has always been my favorite month. It’s the month when autumn really makes its presence felt, especially if you live where the seasons are discernible. (It recently went from air conditioner weather at the tail end of a relentlessly hot summer, to a sudden and unexpected freeze with a 30-degree drop). It’s flu season, which is always good for a sick day or two spent lying on the couch taking over-the-counter cold remedies that do nothing to stop you from feeling like death is close by. Honey, is the healthcare directive in place? You’re sure you’ve still got your copy? And how about the will? Can I change it by tomorrow? My sister forgot my birthday, I’m not sure she deserves the belt buckles.