In the past, the classic retirement scene went something like this, there was a dinner in the retiree's honor, there were some heart-warming but predictable speeches, and if you'd put in enough years, like a gold watch, or at least a plaque or a certificate. And then very quickly the hole that you left in the company closed up, and you wondered what was really accomplished for all those years of service. Well, now it's worse. You may not get to retire. You might be "downsized." You end up asking yourself the question, "What do I have to show for my years of service?" Frankly, I think you can do better than a gold watch or a severance check.
I think I attended what they would have called a racially-troubled elementary school when I was in kindergarten and first grade. The only thing is the kids didn't know it; somebody forgot to tell us it was racially troubled. It was a changing neighborhood and I guess the adults were real tense about what was going on between the black and white kids. We just didn't know there was any difference between us.
I think something is wrong with my nose! Every couple of months it develops this tender spot on the inside, and that's fine - only I know that. But when the outside starts to swell and turns to some not so beautiful shades of red, well, then everybody else knows. Those are the days I'm glad I'm on the radio instead of television. So it seems like a few days a year I get to look like Rudolph, whether it's Christmas or not. I went to the doctor with this, and I said, "Doctor, this is ugly. What will I do?" He said, "Well, you know, there might be an infection in there." This is probably more information than you want, but I'm going somewhere so stick with me. Well, he prescribed the appropriate antibiotic. Sure enough, if I take that antibiotic when that first tenderness starts to come along, it stops the flare-up. What you can see on the outside, though, isn't the real problem.
My regular routine doesn't allow me as much time for exercise as I'd like. In the past, when I had a few days away and my schedule permitted, I would enjoy doing some biking or hiking, or running. Of course, my body always told me that I hadn't been doing it enough. I ended up hurting in places I didn't even know I had places! But it's good to get some extra exercise when you can.
If you're not a "Trekkie" you might know someone who is. A Trekkie, of course, is a rabid fan of Star Trek. I think there has seldom been a TV series in American television history that has so captured people's imaginations as Star Trek. And then the movies of course: Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, the Starship Enterprise. They've become really a part of American's kind of fantasy memory bank.
My first reaction: "No way." Then, "It's true...and it's awful." A man asleep in the middle of the night. Suddenly, what has been determined to be an approximately 60 foot sinkhole opens up beneath the house and literally sucks the man, the bed, and the bedroom in with it. The home has since been demolished, and the next door neighbors were given 30 minutes to grab what they could and evacuate. There was even speculation that the owners of the other two homes would never return.
I was ten years old, and I had one of the most frightening moments of my life. I was out with some of my friends about my age in Lake Michigan, and for some reason I panicked in the water and I started to go under. I can still remember it as if it was today. I really, really felt like I was going to die. Now, unfortunately, my friends didn't take my cries for help seriously at first. "Oh, there's Ron! He's clowning around! He's goofing off!" I guess that's the price you pay for being a clown, which I guess I was...and am. Well, I began to flail around; I was desperately trying to save myself. Someone finally saw me. I mean, they saw I was really in trouble and they came to my rescue. And when they did, I quit thrashing, I quit trying to swim, and because I did they were able to rescue me. You know why? I quit trying to rescue myself!
Nine years old and oh, so proud; proud of the gift I had just bought for my mom for Mother's Day. I picked it out myself. I paid for it with my own allowance. And I ruined it all by myself. It was a two-carnation corsage with a plastic bumblebee. I still remember the bumblebee; it was really cool. I was pushing the speed limit on my bicycle with the white florist box perched on my handlebars. Until I hit a bump and it went flying. I ran over my Mother's Day present. The flowers were crushed and so was I.
If you're into fitness, you'll be happy to know that at times my wife and I have been walking together several times a week. Now, we lived in a place where it was three and a half miles around our local lake, and that was really good. For two reasons: First of all, that walk improved our physical condition-and I know that's something you'd be happy about. But it also gave us time to talk.
You get pretty immune to the scenery on the roads that you travel all the time. There's an entrance to an Interstate where I used to live in New Jersey that was like that for me. I used that ramp all the time, and there's a sharp bend in it and there are these big SLOW signs, and I was used to those. There were signs with these black arrows against the yellow backdrop that point out that sudden bend to the left, and I hardly ever noticed those.
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