I’m nearly one month into my official retirement. The real month-anniversary is in two days. In some ways, I feel like a recovering alcoholic: Got my one month pin, yay. Actually, that’s another one of my contests. Its been nearly two years since any alcohol passed my lips and that has been a bigger struggle. Every day I feel like sucking back a few beers but I haven’t once had an overwhelming urge to jump on the bus and go up to the university to work. Huh?!

What I really had planned for this time was to really bear down on my online projects. Obviously, that hasn’t happened. Anybody checking on my blogs would think I’d died. Instead I’ve been sleeping in in the mornings, staying up late at night and doing things I never got around to before. Reading books for instance. At first, this idleness really bothered me and I felt guilty, but I’m learning to relax about it. When the time comes to do something I’ll know. In the meantime, its feet up and tube on.

One thing I’ve come to realize is that this stage of life is the last chance to become the person I always wanted to be. The kids are grown and gone. All the structure and pressure of a working life has been released. So what do I want to do in my heart of hearts? What can I get back to that I was forced to drop all those years ago? What did I always want to try but never got around to or couldn’t afford either in terms of money or time or energy?

I do realize that I’m a member of a fortunate minority because I even have choices. Many people my age can’t even pretend to retire and are forced instead to grind to the grave. I know that I’m very lucky. But I don’t feel guilty and I have to take my own journey.

One of the biggest things I’m learning is that I’m not who I thought I was. For instance, I always prided myself on not being particularly materialistic. In the past if I was given a chance to buy something I would almost always say I wasn’t interested in things like that. I couldn’t say that I wanted something but couldn’t afford it. In fact, it got to the point that I couldn’t even compose a list of things I would buy if money was no object. I simply couldn’t do it. Now I suddenly find myself in the position that I actually can afford most things and, lo and behold, I do want some of them. This realization comes and goes and when it does it feels like my head is expanding and contracting. Most disconcerting.

Ayn Rand said that a man’s true character could be discovered by watching how he spent his money and what he did with his free time. Well, I have plenty of free time now and sufficient money. Who is going to emerge from this process? I don’t know, but I’m looking forward to finally meeting him. When I do, I’ll finally know the answer to the childhood question: What do you want to be when you grow up?

John with his new Burgmann scooter.

My cousin John Caspell died on the first of May.  He was 58 years old.  He was very intelligent, a great musician, and an avid motorcyclist.

John was riding his scooter through an intersection in Victoria on the 27th of April when he was T boned by a drunk driving an SUV who ran a red light.  He sustained a broken leg, a crushed foot and bruised kidneys, but nothing life threatening.  Doctors performed the operation to repair his foot yesterday and all seemed to go well.  He came out of the anesthetic with no problems, but grew dizzy while walking around.  And then he simply died.  A classic example of the operation was a success but the patient died.  The best guess is that a blood clot lodged in his brain killing him instantly.

In some ways this is the best sort of death.  No pain or suffering just gone.  It’s also the most unsettling.  One minute you’re here having a beer with your friends, the next God reaches his hand down and flicks you off like a switch.  No need to worry now about how you’ll support yourself in your old age, and the question of whether your were a good person or a bad one will have to be decided by somebody else.  The whistle has blown and you’re out of the pool.

This is the kind of event that makes you wonder what the point of worrying about anything is. It should teach us profound lessons, but it probably won’t.  And in the end we’ll all simply continue with our lives until our own time comes, because what else can you can do?

At least we know there’s music in heaven. Maybe God laid on a few motorcycles as well.