Several months ago I signed up here and posted a single item. Having read it over again just now I'm wondering just what kind of drugs I was on that night (as I am sure it was nighttime when I posted it)
Since that time I have been here very little. Suffice it to say that life became a trifle hectic in the interim. I have just in the last day or so begun to think I can take the time to breath again. Hopelully I won't have to endure anything quite so disruptive for some time.
I first came here about a year ago and chose not to sign up because I didn't think I had the time for it. I did read a few interesting posts at that time but I also noticed an In crowd vs. Out crowd thing going on. This seems to have for the most part resolved itself since then. That observation may have contributed to my decision not to participate at that time. I don't know.
Since my last post I have stopped in from time to time, dropped a comment or two here or there; but have not until this moment decided to submit another post. It was my intention, as suggested by a dear friend who participates here, to bare my soul so to speak. This is not a particularly comfortable concept for me. My wife would often tell her friends that I would more likely bare my ass than my soul, and I would most certaily decline any opportunity to do the former. At least not in a public setting. Why even now, living alone for the first time in my life, a towel is wrapped about my nethers before I leave the shower stall.
Now that I am here again and writing this post I can tell you that I have no meaningful clue as to what I want to say. I am simply allowing my thoughts to flow into the keyboard as they occur. This is certainly not 'writng' I suppose, but it is what has been suggested by others who may know better than I.
In my last entry I did mention that I find myself in the most uncomfortable position of not really, after all these years, knowing my self. I once thought I had it all figured out and was quite content in that faux knowledge. I was poking about on my-space not too long ago and encountered an older gentleman (not older than I, but older than many) who proudly proclaimed that he didn't know what he wanted to be when he grew up. I was under the assumption that one would have that all figured out by at least eighteen, but at fifty-eight and counting he still didn't know what he wanted out of life. I certainly hope he has a few years yet to figure it out, but I suspect that time is short.
Having said that, all of a sudden I find that I don't really know what I want out of life either. I retired just over a year ago and we had some rather grand plans for the next several years. Edna's death put all those plans to waste although. My son insists that I do at least a few of those things we had dreamed about over the years, but it wouldn't mean as much to me at this point. I detest not working, not that I am idle, but there is no going back to the old life for me. I endured many long years looking forward to the day when I could say that I am free from the bondage of the workplace. The only thing that helped was that I owned the damn workplace. Now it is my sons' burden and I can observe from the sidelines, gleefully cheering them on and watching them learn that it it isn't easy being cheezy. For years they thought that all I had to do was show up at the office, take the calls I wanted to take, run a meeting or two and at the end of the day go home to my three martinis in the hot tub.
In reality, I rarely used the hot-tub and in later years Edna refused me the martinis. The rest was not too far off the mark. I didn't take calls from just anybody, I had people for that. And I did only run a few meetings a week.
Several years ago I told my son (he had just found himself in a position where he had people to do things for him) that he would know that he had made it when his people had people
Right now I don't have any people around me to do my bidding and for the first time in years I can say that I have the best situation a man could ask for. One is always responsible for his people, and often for his people's people to some degree.
Oh, I could still have a staff and my sons both think that I should. "A man of your age and stature...." How far they have traveled since their days of open rebellion against the system!
My daughters are both quite different however. Different from my sons that is. Their outlook on life is much more easy. They are both married to not so successful men and carry on thier lives as though without a care. They each have one child and plan on no more. They each have positions within the company but are not involved in managment in any way. (Although they do each own a fifth of the stock)
I suppose I should mention, even though I am retired I do still own a fifth of the company and each of the kids own a fifth. When I pass my fifth will be equally divided among the then exixting grandchildren. I take no part in the management of the firm however. That joy is being equally shared by my sons. They do hate it so!
I would imagine that not long after my demise, the family will sell the business for whatever they can get and go on with their lives as though it had never existed. Accoring to my doctor this isn't likely to happen for a considerable time yet. My older son thinks just to spite him I will out live him and exercise my option to retake the reins at the age of a hundred-ten. Perhaps, depends on just how badly things are going at the time.
Well I have rambled on at some length now and haven't really said a damn thing so I think I might as well stop before I do something to change that.
