The Longest Holiday of our Lives

 "Know what kind of bird doesn't need a comb?" I ask.

Liz looks over at me, smiles and says, "No."

"A bald eagle."  Her reaction reminds me of  a mourning bird choking on a worm.

We are stretched out on the pontoon boat's front cushions, staring up into a collection of hickory trees, their branches gently swaying in the early May wind.  It is unusually warm, with the temperature around 72 degrees.  Nice during the day, cool in the evening and mornings.  Just the way I like it.

We've beached Muddy Waters on a favorite sandbar in Running Slough, just off the main channel of the Mississippi River, where last year we watched and listened to Baltimore Orioles, as they flew from tree to tree.  Today, we haven't seen any, and there's a good chance they haven't quite made it this far north, although Liz seems to think they're here.  

"Are you ready for more of this?" I ask.

Liz kicks off her shoes, wiggling her toes in the warm breeze.  "Do you mean boating?  Or did you have something else in mind?"  A smile lights up her face, and she says,"Of course!  But are you sure we can afford it?"  It's like this every time the stock market dumps three or four hundred points.  

"Yes, I'm sure."    

At times like this -- lying on the boat, eating a Jimmy John's sub, and sipping a Sprite -- I don't see how  life could get much better.  Ok - unless there were other people with us doing the same thing.   It's just the best.  

Staring into the sky has always made me philosophical.  It did when I was a kid swinging so high that I felt I could touch the sky.  It did when my friends and I would hike up Grand Dad's Bluff and eat our lunches, then find shapes in clouds as they passed overhead.  And it does now, laying in the boat, forgetting about another bad day at work.

I remember from college the goal of philosophy is to get closer to the truth, or something like that.  I also know philosophers like to argue, not in a bad way, but as a way to get closer to the truth, which is always evolving.   

It's the yin and the yang of Chinese philosophy -- one must contemplate the complementary forces that make up all aspects and phenomena of life.  In other words, despite telling Liz we can afford it, there is always a little doubt in my mind. 

Thank God not everything is so complicated!  Like these truths:

The Bears will always suck.

Government will always spend more than it has.

Money can't buy happiness (at least that's what I tell Liz when we don't win the lottery).

And people who retire always say they wish they had done it sooner.

It's time.

*     *      *     *     *

It's time to retire.

I still have trouble saying that, because I always thought I'd feel old and tired when the time came to call it quits.  Maybe that's the problem -- retirement has always signaled the end of the road.  Reaching the top of the mountain, or watching the sun set beneath the horizon.

But I will say retirement has changed over the years.  My business demographics have changed over the last ten years, as more and more people retire.  I am now helping more people with Medicare and retirement planning than anything else I do.

A few statistics:

The normal retirement age in the US is 66.  Only in the Netherlands is it older.  66.6. It must be all those taxes.

A 65 year-olds life expectancy after retirement was almost 14 years in 1940; by 2023, it will be more than 20 years.

According to a 2023 Bank of America study, a woman's average 401(k) balance is just $59,000, whereas a man's average 401(k) balance is $89,000.  Must be all those Taylor Swift concerts women are going to.

In 2023, the average monthly social security benefit for retired workers was $1,874.

In 2023, an average of 67 million Americans received social security benefits each month.

More than half of workers (59%) plan to work in retirement.

According to wording in a 2022 Survey by the Employee Benefit Research Institute, approximately half of retirees reported spending less than $2,000 a month.

Sobering statistics, to say the least.

Among my friends, I am late to the game.  One of my high school friends retired before Covid hit, and another retired almost a year ago.  In my family, I have a younger sister already retired, a brother who kind of works in retirement for the Federal government and my oldest sister is going to retire this month.  Our international students  have parents that are retired and travel to the United States.  Other high school friends are retired and are traveling or fishing.  I play basketball against guys who have been retired for five years or more.  Unexplained to me is why so many of them gravitate to pickle ball, ..

One of the biggest pieces of advice friends give me is to have something to do.  I've studied them closely, and about the only thing they do is more work.  Working every other weekend doesn't sound like retirement.  Consulting on audits, while part time, still sounds like work.  Projects around the house, including sheds, farming and new garages also sound suspiciously like work.

Even my beloved wife is thinking about making visits occasionally to clinics for other nurses who can't make the appointment due to other visit conflicts.

I plan to work on my tan, and becoming a better captain of our pontoon boat.

My friends are quick to tell me that they do all of these things because their spouses want them out of the house.  That I believe.  

Of course, it never hurts to have a little more money to spend.  For years I've tried to help people accumulate money for retirement.  During my lifetime, at least, the stock market has always gone up, so my advice has been good.  In terms of accumulation, my clients have all been very happy.

My confidence has taken a hit, however, as my advice has shifted from accumulation to distribution.  It's not that I've made bad recommendations or have sons and daughters come into my office telling me mom or dad are out of money.  It's just the realization that a lot of money is going out, and nothing new is coming in.  (Well, there are dividends and capital gains to be added, but with Sleepy Joe always looking to find new avenues of taxation, I'm always worried.)

So, money is always a topic of discussion when retirees get together, play cards and talk about life.

In the months leading up to our retirement, our plans for what to do in retirement have changed.  Like bellbottoms in the seventies, ideas like clothing, have a way of changing.  Some are simply out of reach, others have faced the harsh light of reality.  

We actually thought about something called the Great Loop -- traveling by boat down the Mississippi River to the Gulf of Mexico, then over to Florida, then up the Intercostal Waterway to New England, before taking the St Lawrence Seaway into the Great Lakes and back to the Mississippi River by way of the Illinois River.  It can take years to finish, and it would provide stories of equal standing with Liz's brother who is currently spending his retirement biking cross county in Europe or hiking to Mount Everest  in Nepal.  But then reality kicked in and Liz decided spending a few years on a twenty-five foot tug might be a little cramped.  Not to mention it would be bad for her hair!

Then there was moving to Portugal, with its wonderful pastries, wine, fish and cheeses.  The problem?  The US's citizenship-based system requires all US citizens -- regardless of where in the world they live -- to file a federal US tax return.  In many cases, US expats living in Portugal are subject to Portuguese taxes, as well.  We don't enjoy paying taxes once, much less twice.  So life in Portugal has changed to a few weeks in Portugal.

So plans change.  I still plan to write more, including finishing a short story I started two years ago.  Some classes in photography will get me ready to take better pictures using my iPhone and Canon EOS when traveling to new destinations.

And best of all, we plan to visit some of our international students who have blessed our lives during the past 10 years.  We'll take them by continents, including Europe, Asia and Australia.  And spend enough time so we can explore other countries while we're there.

I may even find time to do some projects around the house.

Whatever Liz and I decide to do in retirement, we both agree it's time.  We're both looking forward to going to an event, regardless of what day or time it's held.  For years we've been wondering what it would be like to be on the river on a Tuesday morning.  The siren song of the Mississippi River is always calling...

I started when I was a young guy shoveling snow and cutting grass.  And worked at age 16 bagging groceries, while wishing I could date the checkout girl.  Liz, got started early by helping her dad at the Monroe Credit Bureau, walking to the County Courthouse to retrieve public records and answering phones for the bureau's phone service.  And the toll of being a nurse will wear anyone down after a while.

So cheers to the last fifty or more years!  It's been a wonderful trip and we've met people that changed our lives.  Hopefully we've done the same for them.

But it's time. 

*     *     *    *    *

The sun is setting on Target Lake as we slowly crawl our way back home, its fiery blast of orange and pinks reminding me of a dragon.  It's a shame nights like this have to end.  I've always believed that spending an evening on the river after a long day at work, has added years to our lives.  The troubles -- and associated stress -- that consumed our thoughts as we left the dock, have faded from memory like the setting sun.  The sounds of birds and the sight of jet steams scarring the evening sky are like a balm to a painful burn.

Life has been good, and I'm hoping to keep it going for the next twenty years or more.

"Oh hey, I have a bird joke for you," Liz says, leaning closer so I can hear her over the motor, churning muddy water behind us.  Her face is lit by the orange glow of the setting sun.  "What do you call a bird that kicks your butt?"

After a brief pause, she continues, "Steven Seagull."

I groan and think, maybe it's not such a good idea that we are retiring...