Retirement sucks.

Not for everyone, of course. Those people who were fortunate enough to earn more and smart enough to squirrel it away, and those who were blessed with good genes and have aged well, are no doubt enjoying their leisure years. They’re doing the things they always wanted to do but didn’t have the time for, whether it be traveling, applying their expertise to volunteer work, taking up salsa dancing, or simply sitting at home reading the Great Books from Aristotle to . . . well, whoever is at the end of the alphabet.

Others are trying to eke out an existence on the lower end of the Social Security scale. And still others, sadly, may be marking time in nursing homes, too ill or too non compos mentis to do much of anything.

Then there are those of us in the middle: able to do some, but not all, of the things we enjoy. In my case, there are a few physical issues; but the brain is still functioning well enough to know that I miss the days of travel, stimulating companionship, and adventure. So I write about them instead. And I fight the boredom.

But yesterday I received an unexpected phone call from an old and dear friend who travels the world on business constantly, and with whom I’ve only been able to communicate by email for a number of years. He was back in the U.S. for a while, and took the time — a couple of hours, actually — for a wonderfully long conversation. Like in the old days, when we worked together in Washington.

We talked about everything: about world politics, of course; and about mutual friends, about those grand adventures of the Cold War days, and some things we never knew about each other.

And while I was reminded of how ordinary my life today is by comparison to those earlier days, I also thought about how fortunate I am to have had those years of exciting work, travel, and friends who, though now at some distance, are still a part of my life.

Not everyone is so blessed.

Thanks for the call, Bill. We’ll do it again soon.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
3/7/25