I didn't ever want to ever retire anyway

It is time to earnestly examine the upsides of working until one ceases to exist

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

I didn't ever want to retire anyway. All the money we lost? Oh, no big deal. Die at work. That’s an honorable death. One can bid adieu in a sterile hospital, or one can drop like a brick in front of Rob from Project Management who will forever have a story to share when everyone else is telling their “Dead guy at work” stories. What a gift to leave someone – a moment of connection. Dying in quiet dignity robs the world of community when you think about it.

Have we, as a people, ever stopped to ask: What is retirement anyway? It’s just a lot of relaxing, hobbies, time with friends and family, traveling and community service. That is not what the world needs. How can one even think about pickleball when there are injection molding robots to lubricate at the factory? Being a good citizen means generating tax revenue AND being a consumer until the moment one’s soul flees this mortal coil. Anything else is disrespectful. What is more self-centered than enjoying the final years of one’s life? I choose to think of the greater good.

All this talk we hear, on and on, about the “golden years” – what golden years? The body breaks down. The mind turns to mush. Loved ones die. Music gets worse. Football players don’t hit each other as hard. The water pressure wanes. It’s all a drag. But if one has a main focus, a focus such as getting up every morning and punching the clock for a mediocrity who gobbles gummies every night and chats with his AI girlfriend, then at least one has something to live for.

Of course, there are sacrifices. There always are. Less time for my cable TV news friends – the ones who say everything in this country is going great finally. It’s all according to plan – tip-top. No need to question it. Nonetheless, sadly, a life of ceaseless work also means less time to leave a stream of negative comments on Facebook from the condo I never buy after I never move to Florida. I take solace in the knowledge that at least my final years will not be a waste.

It’s such a radical notion, retirement. Do animals retire? Do shrubs? Does a speck of dirt? No. Then what makes us so special? Do we retire just because others do? Since when do Americans go with the crowd? Parasites sitting around collecting checks from the government sounds like the kind of thing they do in Russia. I’m not saying retirement is a form of communism, but I’m not NOT saying it either. America works because Americans work.

Me? When I go, I’m going out like a hero – hunched over a keyboard, mid-sentence: “Per my last email, I just wanted to circle back and touch base—”

BOOM.

Fade to black.

That, friends, is how a real American logs off.

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More writing by Joe Donatelli.