I suppose it only makes sense.  When I talk, I mostly talk with people my own age.  I guess.  But, honestly, I talk with younger people sometimes, too.  I even have younger people staying here as W’fers and guests.  I have no delusions about being hip anymore but I still have some connection with the next generation if only through my own two kids and some of the neighbours.

‘Course, I have no clue as to much of what any of them are saying but we still make conversational efforts.  I just gotta ‘get past‘ the words ‘like’ and the expletive ‘fu-k’ being interwoven throughout every conversation like a verbal tic.  As soon as I filter those words out the sentences are easier to understand.  “We (like) (f’íng) -went-to-(like f’ing) town-(like) and (like, F!) -bought (like)–some–(f’íng), expensive (like) food, eh!  Like F!”

And that’s a woofer from England!

But, anyway, that is not my point.  The point is I am talking to older people mostly and this is what I am hearing from those still working:  “Well, I want to retire, ya know?  And I guess I can afford to.  I guess.  I mean, our pensions are going to be upwards of $7,000 a month and we have huge RRSPs plus the house is worth a gazillion dollars but, like, I dunno.  My financial guy tells me I need a few more million.  So, I dunno.”

There’s his counterpart, of course, “Hell, I’d love to retire but every year I go deeper in debt.  I am literally working to dig the hole deeper.”

And then there are the people who are telling me, “Well, I’d like to retire but there is nobody capable of doing my job.  I mean, we got young guys and all but they don’t have the tickets and the papers or the experience.  Hell, some of them don’t even have the tools.  Jimmy over there can barely read and write.  Stoned half the time, I swear.  I dunno.  I hand over the business to them and they’ll likely kill themselves.  Probably half the customers, too!”

My favourite is the guy who tells me, “Yeah, well, I’d like to retire but my daughter and her three kids are living in the basement, my son’s boy is living over the garage with his boyfriend (and there is nothing wrong with that) and my wife’s mother is really, really old and living upstairs.  And she kinda needs our help.  So, I dunno…”

I have a few friends who say, “Well, I’d like to retire but, you know, my wife really likes her Starbucks and there isn’t one up at the cabin and, like, the cat doesn’t like it there either.  So, I dunno.”

“Can’t retire yet.  Only 74.  I mean, I am too busy to retire.  Now, where did I put my glasses?  And, what the hell was I doing, anyway, when you interrupted?”

“Can’t retire yet.  I owe too much.  Kids are still in college.  Can’t sell the yacht.  Stocks went all to hell.  And, anyway, I hate traveling and my wife wants to go to Chechnya, for God’s sake!”

“Geez, I can’t retire.  If I do that, I have to go home.  Wife and I don’t get along, ya know.  Barely talk to each other.  I use the office as a place to get away from the house, ya know?”

But the best is the one who says, “Yeah.  I’m gonna retire.  Really.  And this time I mean it!  Like, I retired ten years ago, ya know?  But I have never been busier.  Never have a bloody minute to myself.  Hell, I gotta woodworking shop to assemble, a funicular to build, a bunch of chores around the house, things to fix and, it seems, a social calendar to match the governor generals. And my wife is even busier.  She’s got all that and me to take care of as well.  Ol’ Sal and I need a rest.”