It’s not up to some investment banker or stockbroker!

When my wife and I first spoke to our “retirement specialist,” he had us fill out a pile of forms about incomes, debts, etc., and we waited expectantly to find out which island we would purchase and where it would be.

A few weeks later, we met again. He opened his three-ring binder and began showing us charts and graphs, financial tables, health costs, long-term care, retirement home and condo fees — by the time he was through, we learned that our island paradise, if there were to be one, would have required her and me to find a second and third job — each.

In other words — if we worked 24 hours a day for the next thirty years, we could at least maintain our ‘current’ lifestyle.

We were in our mid-50s at that time. So any new earnings between then and retirement would remain pretty much status quo. Obviously, our hundred-and-some-thousand dollars in a 401 (k) was not necessarily the ideal amount we thought it would be. Hopefully, a happy retirement is not necessarily all fishing boats, condos, seashores, and cruises.

Every retirement fund has to begin somewhere.

My working years began when I quit high school back in 1969.

It was the beginning of my senior year, and I was in love with her, or as in love as you can be at 17, but she wasn’t thinking the same way. Dejected, rejected, and bored with the tedium of high school, not to mention the fact that I saw absolutely NO prospects after graduation, I was in dire need of a change of venue.

Maybe you’ve been there? Or maybe not!? Regardless, a change was warranted!

GO NAVY

So, to start my retirement savings plan, I dropped out of school and asked the local Army recruiter if the Army had any current openings that I could apply for.

At the time, my big brother was stationed in Củ Chi, about 30 miles northwest of Tan Son Nhut Air Base in Vietnam. (You may have heard of the famous, or rather, infamous Củ Chi tunnels.)

Anyway, I wanted to see if I could get somewhere near him, but the Army told me that they had handguns that weighed more than I did.

The U.S. Marines, who I understood also needed a few good men, stared at me like I was an alien with three horns on my head. “Come back in about ten years, AFTER you finish high school and gain some weight,” he said.

The Navy recruiter, on the other hand, said: “Let’s take a test and see what we can do!” A few weeks later, I was on my way to boot camp in Great Lakes, Illinois, and that’s when Uncle Sam saw fit to start my retirement account for me. What more could I ask for?

Yo! Ho! Ho! — and so much for that.

F-FWD to – 2017 – It’s Graduation Time Again…to Retirement!

The many retirees around us seem to be chugging along in their merry retired lives. Buzzing around in their golf carts, pickleballing, shuffleboarding, hanging out at the pool and clubhouse, taking trips and going on cruises.

They got it goin on.

Evidently, they either planned better than we did — or are growing something their children are not going to be happy to inherit!

As for us, she and I have 55 years of marriage behind us! And, YES, since you asked, she is the same one I was in love with! The same one who rejected me at the time!

But after a couple of years in the Navy, how could she resist, right? (Sailor uniform, white hat, scarf around my neck! … I don’t know how to write that clicky noise you make with your tongue when you say something like that, so how about – wink, wink?)

Anyway, like most love-lorn teenagers, I chased her until she caught me! Oh, and yes, we did graduate high school together because the Navy made me pass the GED exam, so I was officially part of the ‘Class of 1970.’

Then, in 2017, we both graduated to retirement together, and are living happily ever after in our manufactured bungalow by the sea! Well, it’s not too far from the sea, anyway, a few miles to the east.

Not Every Retirement Is Golf Carts and Cruises

You see, that’s my point. We live in our very own poor-man’s pied-à-terre. A small place we purchased cheap to vacation at, that unexpectedly became our retirement home. As retirees, we keep pretty much to ourselves, care for our property, landscape, and decorate, all the usual stuff. She cares for the finances; I care for the dog and the grass; we both take good care of ourselves and our lives.

The fact is, we live in a gated, 55+ community of about 1,000 residents (550 homes), and we rarely visit the clubhouse for anything more than picking up the newsletter.

We take occasional trips to visit our children and grandchildren. We sit at our computers; we watch television, both of which bring us more of the world than we can stomach.

To us, happiness is staying close to our little hacienda. She has her books, housekeeping, gardening, social media, etc., and I have my computer, writing, reading, and music, and, of course, the honey-do list.

A happy retirement is not necessarily all fishing boats, condos, seashores, and cruises. It can be just the two of you, being yourselves, enjoying your time together, with the freedom to change your mind and be as spontaneous as you wish at any given time, and if you’re single, you can sleep cross-ways on the bed if you want to.

My advice: Forget the hype about the “Golden Years.” That’s a marketing strategy for investment bankers.

Take along what you can — and enjoy what you have.