New Year's Dissolution

 

Currently on the nightstand. 

But not for too long, as Mr. Lopez one of the few LA Times columnists I have always made a point of reading, writes in a clean, crisp, often humorous, manner that makes for quick work.

For some reason I've never thought about retiring. 

Much to the dismay of my co-workers at PayPal Honey, I'm sure.

I never gave it much brain space for several reasons. First among them is I don't feel like I'm 65 years old, the long accepted benchmark retirement age. At least it was before all the billionaires snatched up our underpaid labor and set class progression back a few notches. 

Now, with skyrocketing healthcare and housing costs and the fear of ending up in a dirty nursing home, many of us will "punching the clock" well into our 80's. If for no other reason than to avoid dirty nursing home veggie lasagne. I had the displeasure of sampling the "the food" at my uncle's last pit stop and frankly would rather eat a muddy leather shoe.

Secondly, I'm technically not 65. At least for another month or so. But in no way feel like I'm old. At the risk of humble bragging, I feel healthier today than I did when I was real 44.  

I'm often the only person at social gatherings, or stadium events, who has never had Covid. I probably shouldn't be saying this for fear of taunting the gods, but I can't remember the last time I had so much as a cold. I've been told I have the constitutional immunity of a horse. Albeit one who is on a quickening trot down the path to the glue factory.

A point well made by Mr. Lopez, who can see the horizon approaching, even through his industrial-strength reader glasses.

The third point worth considering is, I like what I do. 

Granted, I used to like it a lot more in the past when coming up with unusual and sometimes effective ideas and seeing them to fruition was highly lucrative and rewarding. Moreover, I could actually point to the work, on TV, in print, or on outdoor boards. These days, if I wanted to show you my handiwork, you'd have to go searching through the Trash File on your email server.

The last point and possibly the most salient, is what would I do?

In search on that elusive answer, Lopez talks to academics, Father Gregory Boyle (of Homeboy's fame), to Mel Brooks and even to TV macher Norman Lear. I had the pleasure of ghost-writing a speech delivered to Mr. Lear at a recent honorarium and discovered I had a certain knack for putting my words in other people's mouths. I'm told some of my wisecracks even got a few laughs.

Perhaps I should finish the book before tackling that which cannot be tackled at this juncture.

Part 2 of this post will be written tomorrow.

Unless I take a nap. 

I like napping.