My Part Time Job

After I retired I laid around the house for about three months, just to unwind and decompress from the nightmare ordeal of selling my house in Pennsylvania. I decided that I wanted to go back to work. However, I didn’t want to work fulltime. I didn’t want to work Monday through Friday, 8 AM to 5 PM, 50 weeks of the year. As they say, “been there, done that!” I certainly didn’t want to work in a padded cubicle. Really “been there, done that” with all the attendant office politics that go hand in hand with that type of job. At this time of my life, in my waning years I, like many other retirees wanted to do something just for myself. I wanted to work at a job that I truly enjoyed. A job was fun and interesting. Sure, all jobs have their moments but what is life if not a challenge every now and then? I think a little stimulus is what we all need in our everyday life to keep our brains from atrophying. So, I decided to seek a job that I had previously when I was in between my banking jobs – hotel front desk clerk. After applying at several Rehoboth Beach and Lewes hotels, a canal front bed and breakfast inn was astute enough to hire me to work part-time Monday and Thursday evenings and every other weekend – once during the day and the other weekend during the evening. The owner of the Inn hired me after an interview. He is a man of true wisdom. He saw the true value of hiring an “older” employee. Sure, I may have been around the block a few times but I can hold my own with the best and brightest and youngest employee. In my case experience does indeed trump youth and beauty. This was/is an ideal situation for me. Just enough work to keep me active and vital but not so much that it would drain the life out of me. Also, the extra income helps to pay the mortgage that I now have since I had to drop the price of my previous home in Pennsylvania in order to sell it and move to Delaware. That’s another whole story I may, or may not go into in the future. I am a believer in that all things happen for a reason. I truly believe that if I had no trouble selling my previous job I probably would not have found my present job at the upscale, delightful small Inn where I work now. I work with wonderful co-workers, a great boss, and appreciative guests. Best of all, I’m finally working “near the water”. That seems to be just about everybody’s goal in life to either “live near the water” or “work near the water.” I have one out of two which isn’t bad at all.

What Retirement Means To Me

Retirement to me can be summed up in one word, freedom. I have the freedom to do what I want to do, when I want to do it. That is such a simple goal but it is so hard to achieve. If you think about it, most of us work at jobs our whole life to survive. We all yearn towards that one goal, freedom. Thus we sacrifice most of our years working at jobs that we don’t like. Working with people we normally would not associate with. We spend our best years accommodating our personal life to the Job. Then comes that time when we retire. To quote Martin Luther King:

“Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty I’m free at last!”

After years of toil, boil, and trouble, the magic day finally arrives. A tremendous burden is lifted off of your shoulders. FREE! Now what? Spend endless days golfing until you die on the links? Take exotic cruises to foreign ports until you become a sad parody of the Ugly American? Or do you become a couch potato and provide a daily frustrating obstacle to your partner’s housecleaning chores? Or, maybe you get a job that you really enjoy. Perhaps you get a job to supplement your income because your retirement income isn’t enough for you to continue living the lifestyle to which you have become accustomed. The job could be part-time or full-time. The type of job you get would depend on your personality and the station in life you wish to maintain. The main thing about the job after retirement is that it isn’t dependent on your financial survival. If you planned right, you now have an income base of Social Security plus any retirement pensions you managed to accumulated during your 40 plus years of servitude in the workplace. If you’re really lucky, you’ve managed to save some money through 401K retirement plans that were invested in the stock market, but not many of us are that fortunate. The main thing is you are now FREE! Now there is a four letter word that is powerful. FREE.

That is what this blog of mine will be all about. I will share with the readers of this blog my new found freedom that retirement has allowed me.

Reactivating Blog

Who said "I'm baaaaaack"? Well, after a long hibernation, I've reactivated my personal blog. I've changed the name to "Retired In Delaware" to more accurately reflect my station in the world at this time of my life. Is anyone interested? I doubt it. However, I am interested and I make no apologies for that. To me this is a form of therapy. Most if not all of us, if we're honest with ourselves, will admit that our primary interest in our life is us. Of course there has to be a balance. Excessive interest in ourselves is narcissism. Little or no self interest in ourselves is low self-esteem, which is also a problem. At this time in my life I feel the need to leave a history of myself that I existed. Why? Because there may be someone like me in the future who is interested in genealogy like me and wants to know more about the person behind the name and dates. I feel like I'm rambling here but be that as it may. I feel the need to keep a blog of my life as a retired gay man in lower Delaware (Sussex County). If you're reading this and don't like it, go to the next blog. However, if find my blog of interest, come back again. Lots going on in my life. Soon to be a movie!

Blogger Ron 

Sold The House!

Finally sold the house! After 10 long months and over 60 showings and 7 failed sales. I had the misfortune to place my house on the market right at the beginning of the slowest housing market in 11 years. Also, I had the misfortune to let it be known that I had two mortgages. Buyers in this Buyer's Market were all too quick to take advantage of my misfortune and bad timing. At 65 I should no longer be surprised by the cutthroat nature of some of my fellow human beings but I am. Many buyers were all to eager to jump up and down on my Adam's apple while I was down on the ground. Some "friends" and neighbors told me "You would do the same wouldn't you if you were in that situation?" Well, actually, NO I WOULDN'T. I would offer what I thought was a fair price for the house and land and hope that the seller would accept it. However, that was not to be the case with 7 buyers. They were all too eager to get a "steal" (read that "greedy") and take advantage of me and my financial situation carrying two mortgages. Those who were so greedy discovered that they didn't get the property. Through their greed they, perhaps, lost out on the best opportunity of their lifetime to own almost 7 prime acres of Chester County, Pennsylvania woodland with a custom built Gambrel roof colonial house. Because of their inability to control their greedy impulses, they will never know the joy that I knew for over 25 years living and sharing that 7 acres on Crawford Road near Downingtown Pennsylvania. I have now sold the property and am now enjoying my new home on the eastern side of Rt. 1 near Milton, Delaware. I will perhaps never sell a home again but if I do, I will never buy another home before I sell the home I live in first. Lesson learned!

Days of Innocence

Ah, those days of innocence as the picture above reflects. The photo is of this blogger, circa 1952. It was a fifth grade elementary school photo. Note that even in the Boring Fifties, spiky hair was in style (actually, I couldn't control my hair). Look at the pure innocence on that face. Perhaps if I get enough courage I'll show you that same face 54 years hence (now). That comparison would be a brutally graphic display of the trials and tribulations of the past 54 years. Days of joy, days of anguish. Presently, I am undergoing the worst time of my life. Trying to sell my home. I have a new beautiful home and I would to move there permanently and enjoy a downsized lifestyle that a 64 year old body requires. This keeping two homes is not fun. Back and forth. The homes are 2 1/2 hours apart. Double bills. Keeping track of everything. Is the milk in the refrigerator in my home in Delaware or the home in Pennsylvania? How about my goldfish (three ponds in the Pennsylvania home)? Who is feeding them? If this is Sunday do I mow the Delaware lawn or the Pennsylvania lawn? Hopefully, this nightmare will soon come to an end and I will again be the same carefree 10 year old boy pictured above. Perhaps the body is different, after the ravages of stress and gravity. However, the mind will again be carefree and happy.

Curley

Who is this blue eyed picture of innocence? He was born in November 1941 in southeastern Pennsylvania. The first born of his father was a 21 year old hillbilly truckdriver from the hills of North Carolina. His 17 year old mother was one of five orphaned children from a distinguished but cash poor Pennsylvania Quaker family. Look at the happiness in those eyes. Did he know what the future held for him? Did he know of the heartbreak, skullduggery, and treachery that awaited him as he grew up? Oh, along the way there were times of pure happiness but mostly it was a life of struggle and fear. Much like many other children born during World War II. After the war he lived under the threat of an A-Bomb going off at any time. He knew that hiding under his desk wasn't going to protect him. Early on he realized he was "different". He didn't know exactly what it was but he knew he should keep it secret because it was "bad". It wasn't until he was 21 years old that he "came out" and revealed himself to the world as a gay man. The year 1963 wasn't a good year to reveal oneself as a homosexual. But he did and there it was. During the ensuing years he broke a few hearts and had his heart trampled on one or twice. However, he was one of the lucky ones and met a man who became his life partner (in today's parlance - previously the person was called a "lover"). Now, 42 years later he and his partner are approaching the last act of their lives. He will be 65 this year, his partner 78. Just about now he thinks he has this life thing figured out. If you have one good friend, or partner that you can depend on, that's about all you need. Most friends will let you down when the going gets rough. Some hang in there with you during those horrendous time (usually the friends who you least expect to stick with you). This boy is moving on now, soon to move into a new house which will probably be his last place of residence on this earth. As they say, the next time I move it will be feet first. My nightmare ordeal of selling my old house is almost over. I am ready to move on, to the last act of my life. I am indeed fortunate that I have my "partner" to share those final days and a few good friends. Very fortunate.