The Preacher said, "My advice to you is to get yourself a gun and learn how to use it."

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NOTICE: To all y'all,

The year 2017 has been and will continue to be extraordinarily CHALLENGING and BUSY for me. Blog entries will likely be even more infrequent than usual until all projects and issues are completed or resolved.

Thanks for stopping by. I really do appreciated it.

Best wishes,


Sunday, August 3, 2008

Entry for August 03, 2008

That sure went by quickly. One year ago today, August 3, 2007, was my last official day of work before retirement. Since then, I have painfully learned NOT to say that I am retired when someone asks what I do for a living; they feel compelled to the harangue me about being too young for retirement and warn of the austere life that will follow. I now simply tell people that I am acutely jobless, which usually brings an immediate end to further personal inquiries, especially if I ask the inquisitor to loan me fifty bucks to hold me over until my next unemployment check arrives

Not all of the people lecturing me can possibly be wrong so I am here to agree and tell all of you working people that retirement sucks. Too much fun in one’s life is not a good thing. Relaxation is not good; having too much fun is no fun at all. Humans evolved to be competitive, to be pissed at everyone and everything, and retirement is against that objective of nature. There was no evolutionary design for men and women to be creatures of leisure. We are nothing but animals, so viva la evolution! A person having enough money to enjoy life without working for it is living a life of debauchery, unless of course that person is of a noble heritage, such as a preacher, politician, or a pimp.

Heed my cultured guidance, whatever you do, you must NOT save for retirement; remove all of the plans for retirement from your thought processes. Work that thankless-job of yours until you drop blissfully lifeless to begin decaying in your tracks; I guarantee your soul will thank me for it.

As for my destiny, given that I have gone through all of the difficulty of retiring, regrettably I feel obligated to see it through to the dreary end. I am not a quitter, I need to finish what I started, or I’ll be unable to find the little self-respect that remains. Harsh as it is, I will fight the enjoyment; I’ll struggle against relaxation until my gurgling final breath. I will forever curse the day I retired as the nastiest moment I ever experienced, but I am a man of my word who can never return to gainful employment. Learn from my feverish wretchedness, save yourselves while you still can, and forever work, work, work, work.

Now if you will excuse me, I have a need to prepare a goodly supply of iced tea for consumption while catching the early afternoon patio sun. It will be just another of the endless unavoidably enjoyable rituals of retirement that must be grudgingly suffered.

Thanks once again for checking in on me, please favor me with kind thoughts, send money when you can, and remember this satirical paraphrase of the words of General Douglas MacArthur, “Old sewage-treatment-plant operators never die; they just smell that way.”


James A. Zachary Jr.

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