Most of my friends welcomed retirement, but some people just don’t ever want to stop. They either don’t know what to do after leaving the workforce or they can’t come up with another excuse for avoiding social engagements. This particular friend deliberated for years about retirement and finally reluctantly pulled the plug. She was a co-worker of mine in the radio business, went onto Indianapolis print publications like Hot Potato Magazine and the IBJ, started her own health food store called The Good Stuff, and ultimately went on the road for years selling natural foods, vitamins, supplements, and other health related products. Her older husband was a popular Indy DJ, voice talent, and race car owner. Our mutual friend, Peter, and I send her a friendly bird when we get together without her. She is the second friend to have requested a poem in the last month. Here was my response: 

Retirement Requirement 

You were a Hot Potato,

And had the Good Stuff.

But now you think,

You’ve had enough.

Plus, radio and racing,

Have been very good to you.

It’s time for retirement,

And little required to do.

You married a DJ,

But really your job.

And you became,

A health-food snob.

Vitamins and minerals,

Became your passion.

And whatever nutrients,

Happened to be in fashion.

You were a pusher,

Of veggies and fish oil.

To the Organic cause,

You’ve remained loyal.

Your health gig is up,

You’re on your own.

No more meetings,

Or sales by phone.

No more alarm clock,

Forget the Vegas show.

Now your email message,

Reads forever OOO.

If you get on a plane,

It should be for fun.

But mostly just enjoy,

The Cambria sun.

Long walks with Tashi,

Time alone with Griff.

Supplement those supplements,

Or your joints will get stiff.

Here’s to Alice’s Restaurant,

WKRP reruns, too!

Turkey and Tequila,

Happy Trails to you.

A long finger salute,

From Peter and I.

It’s just retirement,

Not a last goodbye.

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