What are you talking about?
I am currently taking a "practice retirement" break from my work. What
is a practice retirement break? Seeing that I've always thought that
one has to keep himself/herself both mentally and physically stimulated
during life and during retirement, I thought that I would take an
extended break from work and see if I'm ready for retirement. I've
got a number of mental, emotional, geek, and physical activities
lined up for my break.
Check back often and see what I'm doing to stay productive and busy. Try to determine if you think that I'm ready for retirement. Towards the end of the "practice retirement" period we'll have a vote and see if I should extend the break.
Day 0 (10/10/2001)
Today was the first (half) day of my break. I left work at noon after
finishing up my responsibilities and after putting all of my
messaging services on extended absence.
If you couldn't have guessed, the first thing that I did when I got home was to jump on the mountain bicycle and go for a good ride. A ride along the Los Angeles river. My legs were a bit tired - I hadn't ridden in about three weeks. (This is the longest period that I have been off the bicycle in more than two years.) But I had fun!
I also went and did a number of errands. I bought lube. (Chain lube for my motorcycle, of course.) I also looked at the antiquated 2001 models. And I also did other shopping to prepare for tomorrow's day of gardening and cleaning up around the house.
In a few minutes I'll be going to one of my Wednesday 7:30pm meetings.
On the surface, Day 0 seems pretty boring. But I'm enthused to be away from 12 hour days and excited to be riding again.
Day 1 (10/11/2001) We go out past the train tracks, past the
construction, and turn around and head back for the truck. There's
a little trick I play on Ray. I accidentally trip on a slut...er...on
a rut and fall down. I pretend not to be able to get up. After
about ten seconds I can see the look and thoughts coming through
Ray's eyes: How am I going to carry a 75 pound, 13 and a half year
old golden retriever a half mile back to the truck? And when Ray
comes over to see if I'm okay, I get back up and run off. Fooled
him!
Ray tries to play his usual trick on me. He
gets me to run up ahead of him and then he hides. Now I know
that he's going to do this sometime during the run, but today he
has waited until the very end and I know that it's coming. But
I go along with it and pretend to be lost. Until I turn around
and go back to where I last saw him.
I'm tired at the end of the run and Ray has to
pick me up and put me back in the truck. And he also has to
pick me up to get out of the truck when we get back home. He's
a good guy.
Ray get's up at...well...the big hand is pointing straight down
and the little hand is pointing straight down. He has his
running shoes on and the truck keys in his hand. We're going
running at the Los Angeles river. I'm excited! Ray has to
pick me up and put me in the back of the truck - my hips
not being what they used - and we drive off. I let him
drive because I like the wind breezing past my ears in the
back of the truck and because I can't reach the brake and
gas pedals with my paws.
When I pull up to get the truck washed, two attendants are kicking a six foot tall, air-filled bottle of champagne balloon back and forth. I smile at them as I drive up. One of the attendants asks me to play along, but I tell them that I'm terrible at futbol. We start talking and it turns out that the attendant is from Honduras, though a city that I didn't get to visit. We have a good conversation and it turns out that his name is Ramon (espanol for Ray) and his son's name actually is Ray.
You certainly know what is coming next! A bicycle ride! Down the Los Angeles river, around the aquarium, and back home.
Decadence comes out: I have ice cream for breakfast and make a trip to the liquor store.
But I spend the next couple of hours mowing, edging, and trimming the lawn. As well as cleaning up the sideyard which only gets cleaned up every six months. And I finish the afternoon by raking the yard and crabgrass and crap to get it ready for winter. I am very tired.
One of the neighbors down the street stops by with a beautifull new bicycle. Andrew, who is 18 and who I've known and rollerbladed and spoken with since he was 10, has a brand new bicycle. And he invites me to a ride on Friday at 6am. (I've already sponsored him for the upcoming "Ride Against Leukemia" which he'll be doing in November.) And after I say that I will ride with him on Friday at 6am he explains that he's starting to race and that he has been doing very well. (Oh what did I get myself into now?) I try to downplay the experience by reminding him that I am an old man and he accepts this but we're still going to ride. I am now ready to die.
Day 2 (10/12/2001)
I get beaten up very badly by the 18 year old. We ride 50 miles. He
does most of the pulling. I am very tired and low on blood
sugar and muscle glycogen by the time that we are finished. The
only thing that keeps me going is knowing that there are 18
year old legs pumping away behind me. (Or, for the majority of
the time, ahead of me.) He decides that he hasn't had enough
so he goes and does a few intervals at the end. I wish I had
18 year old legs.
After recovery, I go window shopping. No, I actually go out shopping for windows for the house. Too many choices!
I spend a fair amount of time during the day trying to recover from the ride. There's a little bit of blood that I've passed, but in my doctor's words "As long as you don't do that too often you should be okay". Late in the afternoon, after getting a good start on cleaning and rearranging the garage, I lay down to take a nap and cannot fall asleep. I am so spent that I cannot sleep. But the nap idea was good because I'll be out late with friends listening to music. At the Frat House - which I haven't been to in 2 months.
There is hardly anyone at the Frat House. Bob and Jimmy are there and we catch up on the past two months without contact. The KM joins me and we drink our 7-Ups and listen to the music. But it is a slow night and I am in bed by 1am.
Day 3 (10/13/2001)
Saturday is a productive day. After doing some paperwork, I start
in to the garage. I rearrange the contents of the garage, clean
it, wash down the floor, and paint the walls. It looks nice
again.
Amongst the garage cleaning I get out for a bicycle ride. My legs are tired, but it is necessary to tell the legs that even if they are tired they need to get out and do some work. When I finish there is a bit of blood present, but I rationalize this with it being a remnant of the previous day's ride.
And in practice for being a good husband, I say "Yes dear" to my friend Lori when she says that I need to buy a lottery ticket. But I also buy a bottle of whiskey and have a bit of a party on Saturday night.
Day 4 (10/14/2001)
Sunday is a good day. There's a weight lifting session, a good
bicycle ride, and a few miscellaneous errands. All in advance
of a date.
At 5pm I'm lost in Irvine. Thinking that I know where the Starbuck's is, I get lost. And have to call both the date and information to find out where the Starbuck's is. But I eventually make it.
Dao works at UCI in the computational social services department (or mathematical sciences department or in the chaos theory department or something like that). On our way to a place to eat, we're walking through a mall-like courtyard and I mention that I took an interview at UCI in (approximately) 1989 with Dr. Jabbari (an acqaintance from UCLA) who I haven't seen since. And not 5 minutes later, sitting at a table in the courtyard, is Dr. Jabbari! I interupt him and make the introductions and we have a brief, yet warm, conversation.
Dao and I have great conversations about social networks and connectivity, relationships, Buddhism, family, artificial societies, fuzzy sets, and evolution. By 9pm we've moved to a different restaurant and by 9:30pm, in the middle of the salad, I'm asking the question "Will you marry me?"
By 10:15pm we're making arrangements to fly to Berkeley for the next weekend.
I'm liking this whole retirement thing better and better!
Day 5 (10/15/2001)
Andrew comes by for a ride late in the afternoon. But I've
already gone for a ride and I decline. But I tell him that I
will ride with him first thing on Wednesday morning.
I run a number of errands and do some web programming for ResourceScout. I also have to explain to the mailman, who I greet at the door with a Sprite for him, what a "practice retirement" is. I also do some painting. No, I'm not painting the house right now. I'm doing art paintings. Vibrant colors, sharp edges, blurred focus, color mixing, and fun stuff!
After a telephone conversation with Dao, I make my airplane reservations for our honeymoon in Berkeley and San Francisco. But I'm still in negotiations as to whether I'm allowed to bring a laptop computer on our honeymoon.
Day 6 (10/16/2001)
Another day of cycling and art painting. This makes seven
bicycle rides in seven days of retirement. Do you think that
there is a pattern here? Do you think that I've got cycling
in my blood and can't get it out?
There's also a telephone call from our lovely boss, Dr. Steve Kuritz. He let's me know that the Dynamic Test/Measurements team is a finalist for the 2001 TRW Tim Hannemann Quality Award. It looks like I'll come in to TRW (during my retirement...oops...practice retirement) on Wednesday to see the team WIN the award. None of this finalist/consolation stuff!
I go shopping for shoes, paint brushes (for the art, not the walls), and for a special gift. A coworker once said, "Either you're at work making money or you're away from work spending money". He is right.
There's also fall-out from people reading the practice retirement journal and reading that I'm married now. There's both the "You've known Dao HOW long?" and there's the "But I thought that we were going to go out?"
Joe calls. "You've known him for HOW long?" We have a long conversation during which every other sentence that Joe says is "Ray you don't know what you're doing". I use the motorcycle racing analogy, but Joe doesn't buy it. (The motorcycle racing analogy is that you know that you may not have the absolute, fastest one lap motorcycle during Saturday qualifying, but you know what the bike should feel like in order for it to be good during the entire race on Sunday. In this case, you know what the person should feel like in order for there to be a chance of a relationship lasting for a long time.) Joe invites himself to dinner with Dao and Ray on Thursday (before the flight to Berkeley) though this has not been discussed with Dao yet.
Day 7 (10/17/2001)
I get out for another bicycle ride first thing in the
morning. I'm cresting a hill, legs pumping with whatever
strength is left in them, when I hear a loud pop from the
rear of the bicycle. I know what it is. Why do I keep
breaking spokes? I know that I'm a strength-type rider,
as opposed to a cadence-type or climber-type, but I can't
believe that I've broken a spoke on the wheel that was
just rebuilt in March. (The bike shop later offers to
fix it for free, but I tell them that I have to pay them
something and that I cannot pick it up until Monday
afternoon.)
A bad decision results in the Dynamic Test and Measurement engineering team NOT winning the 2001 Tim Hannemann quality award. I am disappointed for them. I vow to make a stronger case for them next time.
The mail man catches me again and he asks, "How's your practice retirement coming, Ray?" Which starts an interesting conversation.
My first piece of artwork is almost finished! I should finish it tonight and start in on one of it's companion pieces. I'm enthused.
Day 8-12 (10/18-22/2001)
(This is a temporary entry until a full entry can be written.)
The anxiously-awaited trip to Berkeley and San Francisco.
There are many great conversations on a wide range of topics
(between Dao, Tom, Ray, and Daniel), long walks, hours
spent in bookstores and museums, and great food. We stop in
at a Rand McNally travel/bookstore. There is a book entitled
"The Most Dangerous Places on Earth". I want to buy the
book. Instead I just memorize a few of the more interesting
vacation spots. Put two
people together for four days and they get to know each other
fairly quickly.
It is in the midst of the $130 brunch on Sunday that I realize that I have found someone extra special. It is a feeling that I have not had for a long time. A very long time. I like this feeling. I don't want it to ever go away.
I did not see the "No cellphone" sign. But I answer my telephone on Sunday afternoon and it is my TRW Boss. I answer his location query with "I'm in the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art". There is silence on the phone. But then both ears are being yelled at. One from the Boss on the phone and one from a museum curator who is shooing me to the balcony and telling me that cell phones are not allowed here. I manage to calm the Boss down and get his questions answered. And tell him that I'm standing on the balcony with a cool 2 degree-of-freedom wind sculpture that I wouldn't have seen if he had not got me kicked out (temporarily) of the museum.
And continuing the creativitiy streak that has surfaced (since the use of the nootropics) I get two great art ideas during the SFMOMA visit. One for a three dimensional... um...sculpture that I will start in on on Tuesday. And one for a short story that I will get to when my practice retirement allows.
Nopester is mad at me. There is one hole in the backyard for each night that I was away. One of the holes is very large. But his tail is wagging wildly when I unlock the front door and step in.
I make a trip to the bicycle shop to pick up my repaired wheel. They refuse to charge me because it has been a short period of time since the initial build. I refuse the bill. "You HAVE to charge me something!" After a brief discussion, they write $0.85 material charge for the spoke. I cross it out and change it to $2.00. They agree and both of us are happy.
I make a quick shopping trip to Vons. The usual cashiers and checkers are there. They ask me "What happened to you?" And I know they ask this because I have a smile on my face the size of the Rio Grande. It is a smile that just will not quit. I am happy.
Day 13 (10/23/2001)
A good bicycle ride starts the day. The new rear wheel holds up
well. The $2.00 was well spent.
I do some painting. No, not art painting. I paint my bedroom.
But I do go buy some wood at a hobby shop in order to start on the three-dimensional sculpture.
After a few errands, I make it to my 7:30pm meeting. It has been a slow day. Probably one that I needed.
Day 14 (10/24/2001)
Just a funky day. I'm a bit emotionally somber today. I get
out for a good bicycle ride and spend a fair amount of
time finishing the painting/trimming of the bedroom.
I take my motorcycle to the Honda dealer for a tuneup. As on this day, I usually take the bus home - carrying my helmet with me onto the bus. It is the time of day where all of the school children are taking the bus home. And on walks this old guy - carrying a motorcycle helmet and wearing a "Rage Against the Machine" tee-shirt. (You know the one. The one with the nuns smiling as they hold automatic weapons.) Nobody says a word to me and the bus goes silent as I find a seat to sit in. But I do hear the talking start back up as I exit the bus at my stop.
Day 16 (10/26/2001)
Friday night, after a strange emotional day, I head down to the
Frat House to listen to music. There is a relatively small
crowd tonight. A friend of a friend of a friend comes and
sits with me and we talk about generic things. Except that
I know he wants something different this time because I can
see that he has overcome his shyness to come and talk with
me and be friendly. When some ResourceScout colleagues
approach, I excuse myself and join them in the club. I am
having fun listening to music and forgetting about my
problem - even if I can't quite get past forgetting about
my problem. The friend of the friend of the friend comes
over later and tells me that he's leaving and I respond with "I'll
see you next week. We'll get more of a chance to talk then".
Day 17 (10/27/2001) Ray later comes home, goes to his bedroom,
and starts crying. This is weird. That nice guy, the one who
used to come over a lot, came over yesterday and HE was
crying. Ray and him were sitting on the couch and he was
crying. Ray was crying too, but it was only internally. I
could feel it even if he didn't show it. But
that nice guy - the one who used to talk about net joint moment
and muscle forces and gait analysis - must have bad hips because
I sometimes cry when my hips hurt. So anyway Ray cries for
a long time - his hips must really hurt him. Except that after
he finishes crying and laying in bed for a long time, he goes
for a bicycle ride. So it must not be his hips that hurt him
so much.
Later we go for a walk. Ray keeps tugging me
along. So his hips must not hurt him even if mine do. But he
keeps encouraging me to come along.
Ray gets up at well...the big hand is pointing straight down
and the little hand is pointing straight down. Ray goes out to
the garage and lifts weights. Maybe we'll go for a walk
afterwards. I'm excited! (Except that even though we have
walked the last few days and Ray has said "Good doggie" and
"Good Nopeydog" to me, it has felt strained. Like something
is bothering Ray.) But no, we don't go walking. Instead
Ray grabs a muffin, giving me a small piece of it, and
leaves.
Saturday night, after a very difficult day emotionally, I go looking for something to take my mind off my problem. Brandon has called and told me that the entire crowd at the club that he has gone to is entirely asian (Not a problem!) and entirely under 24 (A problem!). I decide that I don't want to play Daddy to all of the crowd, so I try a latin club nearby.
I enjoy listening to the rock 'en espanol and dislike listening to the ranchero music when they toss it in. A latino/a...er...latina/o...er...latino/a crossdresser comes my way and we have an interesting conversation over the course of a half hour about various things. He...er...she is looking for something that I am not willing to provide, but we have a good conversation nonetheless.
And in the midst of the conversation with the latino/a crossdresser, in walks Sabrina! Sabrina, the half vietnamese amercian crossdresser from the Frat House, walks in. She sees me and comes over and we give each other a big hug and then WE have a long conversation about work and music and life. When I tell her "I asked Dao to marry me on the first date", she responds with a "Are you crazy? You can't do that. You don't even know him." And after Sabrina and I have a longer conversation about that topic, I realize that I did move too fast. (I trust Sabrina's judgement more than anybody else's when it comes to people and relationships.)
Day 18 (10/28/2001)
My last day of practice retirement. I lift weights, read the
newspaper, watch a race on television, and go for a good bicycle
ride around the aquarium. Dao calls and I've got my foot to the
floor of the truck racing down the 405 to get to the movie theater
for a 2:15 movie. I make the time even tighter by stopping in
at a flower store for carnations.
After the movie, armed with advice from Sabrina, Dao and I have a long conversation about relationships, desires, careers, destiny, life, and "Do you want to sell sugar water or do you want to come with me and change the world?" Things are clearer in my mind.