Talk Back: New obsession with early retirement
We used to have an open-door policy. And to make sure passers-by got the message, we’d post signs at the entrance. Nice, friendly-sounding stuff like “Come on in!” And “Everybody welcome.” Such warm invitations immediately made us the hit of the town. And everything was going along swimmingly until She Who Must be Obeyed came home earlier than expected, blew a gasket, and banished us to the basement.
For leaving the door open.
How do you like them apples? There we were, acting all neighborly and mi casa es su casa — we used to have a crush on Sue Casa but that’s a subject for another time — and now we’re on double-secret probation for the next century for putting up a couple of homeless meeces in the guest room for a day or two. So much for charity begins at home. How dare that door be left in anything but the closed position! So we hauled off and slammed it with all our might. And it bounced. The latch had busted and was stuck in the extended position. Which led to the meeces gaining some unexpected company with which to share their digs.
The Fly Family.
She Who Must was not amused. And promptly issued an ultimatum both short and sweet. Fix the locks right that instant or else. So we dropped everything and spent the next two weeks immersing thin slices of salmon belly in a brine solution, artfully arranging them on a platter of freshly toasted bagels, and would you believe it? Instead of a heartfelt thank-you for your thoughtfulness, we got tossed back into the basement again and … what’s that? Not that kind of lox?
Why can’t people say what they really mean?
Truth be told, we’re not much for fix-it jobs. We’re total klutzes when it comes to hand tools — we still don’t know the difference between a screwdriver and a bull float — and we’re not about to quit working so we’ll have time to figure it out. We’ll leave that to the youngsters. They seem to want only two things in life: a shorter work week.
And early retirement.
It’s true. All manner of wet-behind-the ears whippersnappers whose diploma ink has barely dried think — despite having never seen a yellow submarine, much less having lived in one — they’re owed a life of ease. Seems the prospect of having to keep one’s nose to the grindstone till age 67 is more horrifying than dealing with Jason, Freddy and Leatherface simultaneously crashing the summer camp marshmallow roast. So says the latest Resume Builder survey of the millennial and Generation Z crowd. They don’t ask for much, of course. Just top dollar in Social Security benefits for hanging it up in their 50s.
And a four-day work week until they get there.
Where do kids like that come from, anyway? Mars, maybe? Or Pluto? Either way, they’ve gone soft. After all, we’ve been working 75 and 80-hour weeks ever since Hector was a pup, and we’re not about to slow down. Not to mention we’ve got too many cool projects we’re just getting started on to spend the rest of our lives in a couple of rocking chairs on the porch veranda.
Unless they’ve already got a billion or two socked away, the younger generation is going to be in for a rude awakening when they head to the Social Security cupboard only to find that it’s bare. And if they’re planning on turning their homes into Airbnb’s to make up the shortfall, they’d better think again. Take it from us.
Flies and meeces never pay the rent on time.
Talk Back with Doug Spade and Mike Clement is heard every Saturday morning from 9 a.m. to noon Eastern Time at Facebook Live and www.dougspade.com.
This article originally appeared on The Daily Telegram: Talk Back: New obsession with early retirement
