The Retirement Adventure Disaster

Can I honestly say it was coincidence alone? If not, then perhaps prophetic? On the eve of MLK Day, I had a dream. Better yet, I had a detailed, well-researched, multiphaceted plan for a retirement adventure for Anne and I. A detailed plan… researched … every detail checked and crosschecked … I’s systematically dotted … T’s crossed. I had a dream and it looked something like this.

The mall holds no fond attraction for me. There is nothing there of interest or need for me. About twice a year, I feel must go there for the sole purpose of convincing myself of that fact. This was not to be one of those times. It was a part of a larger universe. I started our adventure with a half day at the mall for Anne to shop. My grand concession … four hours of torture endured, thanks to my Kindle and a soft chair.

Tucking the mall experience into the remote recesses of my memory, I set the Garmin for High Street in Holyoke. Our destination, Fernandez Family Restaurant. I had seen an ad in the Advocate and had checked it out. The online reviews raved about the Puerto Rican pork and rice there. I had to try it. Open Sun 5:00-7:00PM. I had a plan.

The sign on the door said “CLOSED Sat/Sun”. I knew that my adventure was ruined. I did not pretend otherwise for the sake of others. I whined and moaned like an only child. I said “why me?” several times out loud. The rage I felt, however, did not assuage my hunger, which was sizeable. I remind you; I had a plan … multifaceted.

Plan B was Baku’s Nigerian Restaurant in Amherst and the marinated goat meat stew. Game on! I set the Garmin for Pleasant Street in Amherst. I had seen an ad for it in the Advocate and checked it out. I had to try it. OPEN Sun 4:00-7:00PM. I had a plan.

The sign on the door said “CLOSED Sunday”. My ruined adventure began to putrefy. That, however, did not assuage my hunger, which was more than sizeable. We found a restaurant called Judie’s instead. The food was excellent. Nevertheless, I would not be pacified … I had a dream and the dream wolves had be by the hind leg.

We set the Garmin for Mead Drive on the Amherst College campus and the Mead Art Gallery. I had done some research. OPEN Mon-Sat 9:00AM-5:00PM; Sun 9:00AM-9:00PM. It was MLK weekend and the campus was quiet and uncharacteristically dark. The sign said “OPEN Sun 9:00AM-9:00PM”. The door was locked. The lights were out. I had a plan.

My hand hovered above the red phone, waiting for the ring … for the Governor’s call. My dream walked silently down the narrow hallway and complacently seated itself in the chair. The guards, equally silent, tightened the straps on its arms and legs and connected the electrodes. Anne’s hand reached for the door handle. Simultaneously, the phone rang. Pardoned.

The sign said “OPEN” and the dim lights were welcoming. We entered the LimeRed Teahouse on Main. Not just for tea mind you, for bubble tea. Like in the plan. We professed our ignorance at the counter and quizzed the server for recommendations as to condiments to enhance our bubble tea choices. For both, boba (a chewy tapioca mutant) was the answer. We seated ourselves and silently sipped our concoction … cocoanut milk tea for me and a passion fruit tea for Anne. Despite the disappointment I felt, I focused my heroic efforts on the task at hand, salvaging the night with my spirited conversation and rapier wit. Even though the teahouse was filled with Asian Americans, excepting Anne and I, I tested the climate with an ethnic joke about eating tea with chopsticks, accompanied with delightfully animated hand gestures simulating the event. The blank expression on Anne’s face led me to add “get it?” If Anne’s comment “just because I don’t think something is funny, doesn’t mean that I don’t get it” is a viable indicator, then I suspect that my wit was not appreciated at that moment nor its full intellectual merit recognized. In lieu of laughter, Anne and I launched into a spirited debate as to whether the boba had actually been added to her tea … such debate initiated solely upon our observations of an unrecognizable froth atop my tea and the absence of such a frost atop hers. Before we could reach a reasonable conclusion and prove myself right, the server appeared at our table with a dispenser of unusually fat straws and informed us that the boba sinks to the bottom of the cup and that we should recover it forthwith using said utensils. We did. It is an experience that we shall not soon forget. Crudely put, I would liken it to my imagined experience of a mother sucking boogers out of her baby’s nose with a soda straw. Visually … think leech fest.

My retirement adventure was a complete and dismal disaster. Closed for the holiday. Tonight, I will tuck myself in … dejected … a little disgusted …but enlightened.

The next time I have bubble tea … NO CONDIMENTS.

A Few Thoughts on My First Year of Retirement

I did not enter retirement casually. 

I thought about it a lot. 

I knew that defining retirement in terms of what it was not ... NOT WORKING ... would not suffice. Instead, I defined it based on a few simple premises. First and foremost, retirement is not the end of anything; it is the start. Secondly, retirement is not about taking a well-earned rest; it is about doing. Retirement is not about keeping yourself mentally sharp; it is about learning. And finally, retirement is not haphazard, nor by chance; it is purposeful. Thus, I set out to envision what my retirement would be. 

Well before the official day arrived, I began to sketch the treasure map that would be my retirement. My map would guide my path as well as define my New World. It would be my reality, as well as my imaginings. I would know it for the old and familiar equally with the new. I would have plenty edges from which to peer into the uncharted regions, or to sail off of the world as I knew it. To steer such a course need no more than an adjustment in vocabulary. “I ought” no more! “I shall” for evermore.

They say … baby steps … one step at a time … don’t bite off more than you can chew. I disagree. Broad stokes first. Look as far as you can see … then imagine the next mile.  Proceed with Awe at the reins, Caution riding shotgun and Conviction holding the map. 

I am in awe of the world. My family were not travelers … by choice and by circumstance. Ever so slowly, the world other than South Boston, Virginia opened to me, mostly due to sports tournaments in which I participated. But a taste of elsewhere was all that I needed. I vowed that, “One day, when it is my decision to make, I will see more of this world”. I have and I shall. 

My retirement would be about world travel.

                                              

In September, we took our first fall trip ever. We joined with Louis and Susan and headed for Great Britain. We saw London, Windsor, Stonehenge, and Oxford.

 

We spent several days along the coast of Wales,

after which we savored all we had seen and done until spring. 

 

With spring returned our need to travel and we headed out again. 

This time … it was the tulips of Holland. 

We joined again with Louis and Susan and this time experienced the culture and beauty of the Keukenhof Gardens in Lisse, Delft, Den Haag, Gouda, Volendam, Monnikendam, Markem, and Amsterdam. 

We will never forget our trips! And there will be more.

We also did some traveling on this side of the Big Pond as well. We never get enough of Ogunquit, ME, especially the Marginal Way and Perkins Cove.  For Anne’s birthday we spent a couple of nights checking out the sights in Boston.  During the summer we trekked to Sunset Beach with Bob and Joanna, visited Wayne and Cheryl  on Lake Murray and Smokey and family in Greenville.  Mitch’s Yoga Grand Opening in November was more than enough reason for an 18-hour drive (also bought my retirement kayak while there). We spent one day reading Thoreau and exploring Walden Pond and another reading poetry and visiting the Emily Dickinson Museum. One day was spent tracing the lives of the Skinners (silk merchants and philanthropists) of Holyoke and their family home, Wisteriahaus.

 

On another day, we adorned ourselves withleather aviator hats and took a biplane ride in Rhinebeck, NY.   

When we needed another beach fix, we headed to Newburyport, MA and Plum Island. We will definitely be going there again.

I liken life to the opening and closing of doors. Experience tells me that for every door closed to us, other doors open. This has certainly been the case for me. Seventeen years ago I left my job in education. Fate slammed the door shut … but time revealed that it was not locked. In the meantime another door opened … to the world of art. It is a path I chose to take, and in doing so, I have endeavored to create art, share my art and to make art an integral part of my life.  

My retirement would be about art.  

 I pride myself on having seen some of the greatest artwork in the world, and I have visited some premier art museums. My life is incredibly richer for the experience.  In my first year of retirement, I have sought to see more. While in Great Britain, we visited the National Gallery and the Tate Modern. In the Netherlands, we saw the Rijksmuseum, Van Gogh Museum, and the Escher Museum, While in Den Haag, we were able to see Vermeer’s "Girl With a Pearl Earring". I have seen the Mona Lisa … and for me, it was nothing compared to seeing the Vermeer. Incredible. I truly cannot believe that I stood 3 inches away from this painting and examined it for almost ½ hour … an important ½ hour in my life.

As far as my own work was concerned, I battled old demons of self-confidence and struggled with myself over whether to show my work or not. Said struggle continued to be an on-going battle, but I did manage to make some progress. In July I participated in the South Newfane Artists Open Studio and the Newfane Annual Juried Art Show. I was pleased to have pieces accepted as well to juried shows in Woodstock, Killington, and Keene. Better yet, my piece in the Keene State College Show sold on opening night.

We initiated a series of day trips that I called “ retirement adventures”.  

My retirement would be about adventure.

These adventures encompassed numerous activities. One of our favorites was visiting art museums, and we managed to see quite a few … the ICA in Manchester, Chaffee Art Center in Rutland, The Clark and Williams College Art Museum in Williamstown, Andres Art Center in Brookline, NH, the Mead in Amherst, Mount Holyoke Art Museum, Hampshire College Art Gallery, Smith College Art Museum, and the Gardner and the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston. 

 

As an extra treat, we did a road trip in Charlotte, NC to find a huge head sculpture by Cerny called, “Metamorphosis”. It was definitely the icing on the cake.

Living in New England and festivals go hand in hand. Festivals for any and all reasons. Festivals and retirement are a natural as well, and we sought them out. We hit the Heritage Festival in Newfane for our annual super raffle fix. We lost as usual.  Can’t miss the Pumpkin Festival in Townshend (I used to be principal there). The Dummerston Apple Pie Festival offered a slice of homemade pie and hundreds of bikers decked out in full leathers.  The Scott Farm offered a fascinating presentation on locally grown heirloom apple varieties. The Peru Fair, a long time favorite for us, is known for its barbecue and local music.  And how could we possibly pass up the Gilfeather Turnip Festival  (I still have a packet of seeds). We even hit the Sheep and Wool Festival (one of the largest of its kind on the East Coast) in Rhinebeck, NY.  Never saw so much yarn in all my life.

Here’s some retirement advice. Before you retire … get a Kindle.  I actually got started on my reading plan a little before retirement. In a nutshell, I felt stupid because I never really read “the classics”. Who knows … maybe nobody ever read them. But I vowed to do so. And now, I can read whenever I want. I said that I wanted to do this, but sometimes even I don’t believe me. To test my sincerity, I launched my new reading program with the likes of The Iliad, Dante’s Inferno and Jane Austen.  I read somewhere that Don Quixote is the greatest book ever written; so I chose it. Madame Bovary, Wuthering Heights, Tristram Shandy, The Age of Innocence, The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde and Far From the Madding Crowd made my list. I read so much late 1800’s literature that I found myself inserting the terms “I shall” into my daily vocabulary. I decided that poetry was a weakness in my literary education. That is another way of saying that I don’t read poetry and never did. To remedy the situation, I read an anthology of the World’s Greatest Poetry, and collections by T. S. Eliot, Emily Dickinson, Longfellow, Keats, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Lewis Carroll, Coleridge, Giacomo Leopardi, and Robert Burns.  I read Whittier’s Anti-Slavery Poems, the Book of Negro Poetry, and Langston Hughes. I even signed up for a poem of the day on email.

I read the stories of the Arabian Nights, the sagas of Iceland, the epics of the Hindu religion, Tao Te Ching Taoism, Thoreau’s Walden, short stories of Edgar Alan Poe, Machiavelli’s The Prince, Conrad’s Nostromo and Heart of Darkness, Dracula, and Uncle Tom’s Cabin. I dabbled in the world of detectives with works of Henning Mankell and the Swedish detective Kurt Wallender, Snowman – a story of a Norwegian detective, and even a little P. D. James.

All this I topped off with the ramblings of a self-professed teenaged drag queen who writes as Germain Alcala and my favorite author’s (Jeanette Winterson's) newest memoir, Why Be Happy When you Can Be Normal.

So much for my year of retirement.  I entered it on the heels of the death of my father and the disruption of my family. I no sooner turned around than we were faced with a 100-year flood across the state of Vermont. But, like I said, retirement is purposeful, and I had a plan. We filled the year with adventure after adventure.

 

We filled the gaps with other things that I loved

 … I hiked 

… I snowshoed 

… I kayaked 

… and I fished. 

When things slowed down … I used the time to think about next year.

And for you younger guys, 

"Come on in ... the water's fine!"

 

Leafing Through the Pages

I've been working on a piece about my first year of retirement. In doing so, I took a look at my reading habits as well as my motivation to read more. Even I was a little surprised when I took a look at it at arms length. I mean that in a metaphysical way since it is well known that people my age can't see crap at arms length. I think this exercise speaks somewhat to the importance of goals ... intent and execution. Though goals may change at any time, from goals come results. Another day ... another path ... but here is what happened during the first year of my retirement.

Here’s some unsolicited retirement advice. Before you retire … get a Kindle.  I made a plan ... a plan to get smarter ... to get some culture ... to get literate. I had a plan. I actually got started on my reading plan a little before retirement. In a nutshell, I felt stupid because I never really read “the classics”. Who knows … maybe nobody ever read them! But I vowed to do so. And so, since I was retired, I could read whenever I wanted to. I said that I wanted to do this, but sometimes even I don’t believe me. To test my sincerity, I launched my new reading program with the likes of The Iliad, Dante’s Inferno and Jane Austen.  I did this to test my resolve. I read somewhere that Don Quixote as the greatest book ever written; so I chose it. Madame Bovary, Wuthering Heights, Tristam Shandy, The Age of Innocence, and Far From the Madding Crowd made my list. I read so much late 1800’s literature that I found myself inserting the terms “I shall” into my daily vocabulary.

I decided that poetry was a weakness in my literary education. That is another way of saying that I didn't’ read poetry and never would. To remedy the situation, I read an anthology of the World’s Greatest Poetry, and collections by T. S. Eliot, Emily Dickinson, Longfellow, Keatts, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Lewis Carroll, Coleridge, Giacomo Leopardi, and Robert Burns.  In the words of Burns, my passion for the page was like "... a read, read rose". (Forgive me for that. I couldn't stop myself). I read Whittier’s Anti-Slavery Poems, the Book of Negro Poetry, and Langston Hughes. I even signed up for a poem of the day on email.

I read the stories of the Arabian Nights, the sagas of Iceland, the epics of the Hindu religion, Tao Te Ching Taoism, Thoreau’s Walden, short stories of Edgar Alan Poe, Machiavelli’s The Prince, Conrad’s Nostromo and Heart of Darkness,  Dracula, and Uncle Tom’s Cabin. A dabbled in the world of detectives with works of Henning Mankill and the Swedish detective Kurt Wallender, Snowman – a story of a Norway detective, and even a little P. D. James. I just couldn't get enough!

All this I topped off with the ramblings of a teenage, self-professed drag queen who writes as Germain Alcala and my favorite author’s (Jeanette Winterson) newest memoir, Why Be Happy When you Can Be Normal.

And so it goes. Reading is an important aspect of my retirement. I take pride that I am a Reader.  Alas, "getting smarter"has prove to be somewhat more difficult than I imagined. Next year, perhaps, I shall focus on the " _____ For Dummies" genre.

Strolling Rattlesnake Gutter Road - Leverett, MA

May 18, 2012

It was time for another adventure. I can't tell you how excited Anne was when I told her what I had in mind.  The game plan was simple. I told her that we would go to see a big rock,  a big hole in the ground, and take a stroll on rattlesnake road. I couldn't quite hear her reply, but I am pretty sure she said "Let's go!"



Breakfast is so important when heading out for an adventure. For me, that meant a hot dog and coffee at the Box Car diner in Erving.











First stop was Wawbeck Rock in Warwick. As I promised, it was a huge glacial boulder on Hastings Pond Road. Apparently, this rock was personally signed by God. We waited around for about a half hour to see if it would levitate. It didn't. I guess when God signs off on a rock she is through with it.









We had had our fill of the big rock so we headed for Morse's Corner. My understanding was that we would find a big hole there ... you might say a "ravine".  To get to the actual ravine, we would have to hike a closed road for about a half mile. We wondered aloud how it got its name - Rattlesnake Gutter Road.  To tell the truth, I would have driven the entire way just to walk on this road ... just because of the name. There is an incredible ravine carved out by glaciers. The ravine was really cool.




We found this small stacking on the large boulders of the ravine.
















Almost missed this on the side of the steep walls of the ravine. Pucker up!













Why did we go there? All it took to peak my interest was the name of the road ... Rattlesnake Gutter Road.
















Of course, there was a beautiful stream and bridge as well.











Clearly, the connecting thread in this adventure was granite. We found the huge granite rock. We found the ravine carved into the granite ledges. We found the granite lips. And we found this!














And this!









We finished the day with visit to Annie's Nursery in Amherst. They have the absolute coolest flower pots and garden sculptures there. For sale there are large, lopsided garden sculptures with spaceman-like heads. They are perfectly bizarre. Just wish I could afford one for our gardens. We go there every spring.






Adventure builds up big appetites ... which I took care of with a Mt. Toby Dog on the way home.  A two hot dog day is always a great day.

Every Lake Has a Silver Lining - Barnard VT

September 12, 2010

Not every adventure goes according to plan. It seems that once one thing goes wrong, everything goes wrong. It all started when we realized that we didn't know if we were going on an adventure at all. I thought Anne had said that she would rather do something else other than the lake picnic I had suggested the night before. Two theories. 1. Anne did not say she didn't want to go and had I been wearing my hearing aids, I would know that. 2. Anne said she did not want to  do the picnic and said she might like to so something else. Regardless,  at 9:00AM in the morning, we needed to come up with a retirement adventure for the day. No problem ... picnic at Silver Lake in Barnard, VT.

We grabbed the cooler and started chunking in stuff from the refrig ... ham, bologna, cheese, Lillie's dill pickles, chips, mustard, mayo, 2 garden tomatoes,  a few granola bars, water and soda. Anne retrieved the trip bag with the salt and pepper, napkins, knife and forks.  One blanket, two beach towels,  lawn chairs, and our cart to roll it all to the picnic site and we were set to go. One stop at the store for ice and bread and we would be set.

We stopped at the store on Route 30. Anne headed inside for the ice and bread and I got out to fill up with gas. Since last night, the gas had risen to $4.01 ... Anne returned to the card and said the store was out of bread ... an ominous beginning. I cranked the car and headed off in the wrong direction ... I u-turned and continued.



We settled down for the two hour drive to Barnard. Half the fun of an adventure day is the things we discover along the way.  We always find something unusual. Like the twin silo barn near Hartland that had been converted into a house. And the folk art chairs for sale on the side of the road.







Before we knew it, we arrived at eh General Store in Barnard that was directly across from Silver Lake.  We still need bread for our picnic sandwiches. The large sign on the door said, "Open - 7:00-10:00AM". It was 11:30AM. A local passing by informed us that the nearest grocer was in Bethel - about 8 miles away. We drove to Bethel for bread and returned ... the bread was now about as expensive as the gas. The sign at the entrance to Silver Lake State Park said, "Closed for the Season".
In lieu of the beach, kayaking and fishing, our alternate plan was to picnic beside the lake across from the closed Barnard General Store.






Plan B turned out just fine. We had our picnic  ... the sun was shining, the breeze was warm and the scenery was beautiful.














We even had local sculpture to enjoy.











I had noticed another spot, Lake Lakota, on the map when plotting our trip to Silver Lake. Since our plans had changed, we decided to check out Lake Lakota just to see what it looked like. Maybe I would come back some other time to fish it. A few missteps later, we found Lake Lakota Road.  About a mile further, the sign said, "Closed. No Trespassing. Members Only". We continued, regardless of the sign just far enough to see the lake in the distance and turned around. The barking guard dog was so annoying.

I would be less than honest if I didn't admit that we were getting a bit discouraged. However, I had an ace-in-the-hole. To get to Barnard, we drove through Woodstock ... and by Billings Farm. Plan C would be the the Marsh-Billings-Rockefeller National Park ... a park for which we had our senior citizen lifetime free pass. We pranced up to the desk and presented our card. The clerk said, "Sorry, the pass is not good here"! We stayed anyway and signed up for the mansion tour.




This national park is all about conservation and how three families with direct ties to Woodstock, VT envisioned a system of conservation of our natural resources, implemented a conservation system, and preserved it for future generations. We toured the Billings mansion.












We got the dog and pony show from Ranger Rick.
















Gettin' educated is tiring!
















The mansion was redone in Queen Anne (fitting don't you think) style. Hence, the ornate woodwork.










Beautiful gardens.





                                           Nice pool and pool house.








Who says you can't be a philanthropist, and comfortable at the same time?

So, today's retirement was in actuality a retirement misadventure. Nevertheless, we had a great time and loved our museum visit. All that was left to do was drive to Keene. I was only 1/2 hour late for taichi. What a great ending to a great day.