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11/24/2017 4:44:23 PM
11/22/2017 10:05:29 PM
Posted: 9/20/2004 10:37:25 AM EST
[Last Edit: 9/21/2004 3:27:27 AM EST by wedge1082]
In 1985 my family and I moved from Merced California to Dyess AFB in Abilene Texas. While my childhood up to this point had been a happy one, aside from the lack of an AT-AT, I had become increasingly worried about my future. As I looked around at all of the adults I noticed a common trend with all of them. They had jobs.

Often as a child I was asked the question “What do you want to be when you grow up?” My answer was always the same “Nothing.” This always seemed to shock the adult who asked the question. But was it really that hard to understand? Perhaps they had never heard this answer before. Or maybe they were not prepared for such a blunt and direct response from an 8 year old. Either way none of them ever seemed to be able to grasp what my answer meant.

To my young eyes the future had taken on the look of an approaching storm on the horizon. This storm threatened to destroy everything I believed in, and everything that I wanted to do. There was no shelter, and no way out. Words could never describe the sense of impending doom that I felt from the possibility of employment.

My Grandmother and Grandfather (Boompa) came from Kansas to visit us shortly after our move. I was informed that Boompa had recently retired from Boeing and no longer worked. I was not sure what retired meant, but the idea intrigued my young mind. Not working seemed to fit right in with my quest for energy conservation.

Soon after they arrived Boompa went out to the driveway to smoke his pipe, and I followed. I must find out more about this “retirement”. If there was a way to get out of work, it seemed as if Boompa had discovered it.

As Boompa loaded his pipe, I eagerly ask, “Boompa, what is retirement?”

I was not prepared for what happened next. As he spoke the sky split open, and a stunning white light shone down upon me. The sounds of Angels singing filled my ears, and out of my Boompa’s mouth came the most beautiful words that I had ever heard.

“Well, they pay me not to work.”

I stood there stunned. The words replayed themselves slowly over and over in my head.

They… Pay… Me… Not… To… Work.
They… Pay… Me… Not… To… Work.

Was this true? Did this kind of thing exist? It was the most incredible thing I had ever heard of. I fell to the ground with my eyes fixed to the heavens, and my arms spread wide. What a glorious concept this retirement was. I finally had my answer to the question everyone asked. I slowly rose to my feet and looked Boompa in the eye. With determination in my voice I said, “Then when I grow up I want to go to work for Boeing, so that they will pay me not to work.”

Later it was explained to me that Boompa had in fact worked for many years before he could retire. But it was to late, the seeds of inspiration had already been planted in my mind.

My purpose in life had become clear that day. I must find a way to retire, and I must find it before I was required to get a job.

I spent many sleepless nights crunching the numbers, and obsessed with early retirement. By my estimate it would take a vast sum of money in order to keep me in the lifestyle that I had become accustomed to.

My early plans involved finding large quantities of buried money. I was forced to abandon that idea when on one such dig I broke a water main. In the late eighties I looked into gambling and the lottery, but the odds were never in my favor. I thought about a life of crime during the early nineties, which would include; bank robbery, extortion, blackmail, and drug smuggling among other things. None of them suited me, because after looking into them they all started to resemble actual jobs.

Eight years had past from that day, and I never did figure out how to retire before starting actual work. The numbers simply would not allow it. At 16 I got my first job, and I have been a reluctant participant in the work force ever since.

Even though my dream of very early retirement is dead I still hold hope for the future. Sometimes at night in the Wedge household, if you listen just right, you can hear the sounds of the calculator working as I crunch the numbers for little Ms. Wedge. It is too late for me. But I have a dream that someday I can figure out a way for pre-employment retirement to be possible. Not just for little Ms. Wedge, but for energy conservationists everywhere.


----

Introspective History

Star Wars & America

I peed on Spider-Man

Energy Camel

My shoes were hostages

A boy and his AT-AT

I have a dream

Link Posted: 9/20/2004 10:40:30 AM EST
As always - good job, wedge. How many of these can we expect?

Link Posted: 9/20/2004 10:40:39 AM EST
LOL!
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 10:44:50 AM EST
It's been a crappy day at work. Thanks for the laugh. That was damn funny.

Remember the Alamo, and God Bless Texas...
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 10:45:49 AM EST
[Last Edit: 9/20/2004 10:46:01 AM EST by motown_steve]


*****
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 10:54:20 AM EST

I went the other road. Six figures, doing business with leadpipe cruelty, mercenery sensibility. You know... sports, sex, no real relationships.
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 10:59:39 AM EST

Originally Posted By Palo_Duro:
As always - good job, wedge. How many of these can we expect?




Introspective #9,856: Dentures make good hockey pucks.
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 11:03:27 AM EST
I'm with you on this one. Tagged in case you find the cure for the common job.
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 11:04:14 AM EST

Originally Posted By arowneragain:
I'm with you on this one. Tagged in case you find the cure for the common job.



My quest will never end.
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 11:06:16 AM EST
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 11:22:07 AM EST

Originally Posted By Palo_Duro:
As always - good job, wedge. How many of these can we expect?




I'm not really sure. I do know that I have a lot more to say.
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 11:31:54 AM EST
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 11:37:17 AM EST

Originally Posted By Persephone:

Originally Posted By Palo_Duro:
As always - good job, wedge. How many of these can we expect?




Introspective #9,856: Dentures make good hockey pucks.





#9,857: My struggle with polygrip.

Link Posted: 9/20/2004 11:37:56 AM EST

Originally Posted By wedge1082:

Originally Posted By Palo_Duro:
As always - good job, wedge. How many of these can we expect?




I'm not really sure. I do know that I have a lot more to say.



Well then - spill it, my good man!

Link Posted: 9/20/2004 11:51:46 AM EST

Originally Posted By ken_mays:
I think you ought to pursue the career held by a character in the novel "Catch 22" (I believe it was Major Major's father?)

He bought some land and didn't farm alfalfa. The government paid him so well not to grow alfalfa, that he bought more land with the money and soon was not growing the most alfalfa of anyone in the county, then later, the entire state.

Sounds like it fits in well with your stated objective.




I like the idea, only I don't like farm subsidies. Legalized theft.

Pay me money or as God as my witness I will grow this corn!
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 12:22:15 PM EST

Originally Posted By Persephone:

Originally Posted By Palo_Duro:
As always - good job, wedge. How many of these can we expect?




Introspective #9,856: Dentures make good hockey pucks.



Don't forget Introspective #9,855: I have decided that brushing my teeth takes too much energy.
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 1:11:14 PM EST

Originally Posted By wedge1082:

Originally Posted By Persephone:

Originally Posted By Palo_Duro:
As always - good job, wedge. How many of these can we expect?




Introspective #9,856: Dentures make good hockey pucks.



Don't forget Introspective #9,855: I have decided that brushing my teeth takes too much energy.



Naaa, it takes a few years for them suckers to rot and fall out: brushing teeth=too much energy would have to be about 7,xxx something for dentures=hockey pucks to be 9,856.
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 1:13:58 PM EST
ROFLMAO!

Another gem!
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 6:04:15 PM EST
LMAO! Wedge, I love it!!

BTW, I also thought of Major Major Major Major's dad when I read that.
Link Posted: 9/20/2004 6:05:25 PM EST
[Last Edit: 9/20/2004 6:07:08 PM EST by ar50troll]



Link Posted: 9/20/2004 6:09:03 PM EST
Bravo, Wedge.
Link Posted: 9/21/2004 3:26:04 AM EST
tagged
Link Posted: 9/21/2004 4:30:28 AM EST

Originally Posted By 223-Buckaroo:
Bravo, Wedge.



Why thank you.
Link Posted: 9/21/2004 4:50:08 AM EST
The next Gene Shepard?
Link Posted: 9/21/2004 5:16:30 AM EST
Link Posted: 9/21/2004 6:00:23 AM EST

Originally Posted By DoubleFeed:

Originally Posted By Brisk322:
img.photobucket.com/albums/v157/brisk322/ackbarfish.jpg

Ackbar can't be a fisherman. He's a TRAP! shooter.
Bet you never saw that coming.


Link Posted: 9/21/2004 6:03:02 AM EST

Originally Posted By DoubleFeed:

Originally Posted By Brisk322:
img.photobucket.com/albums/v157/brisk322/ackbarfish.jpg

Ackbar can't be a fisherman. He's a TRAP! shooter.
Bet you never saw that coming.



He's from Mon Calamari. Fishing is what they do (when they're not whining about traps).
Link Posted: 9/21/2004 6:16:02 AM EST

Originally Posted By Brisk322:

Originally Posted By DoubleFeed:

Originally Posted By Brisk322:
img.photobucket.com/albums/v157/brisk322/ackbarfish.jpg

Ackbar can't be a fisherman. He's a TRAP! shooter.
Bet you never saw that coming.



He's from Mon Calamari. Fishing is what they do (when they're not whining about traps).



That is warning about traps.
Link Posted: 9/21/2004 6:21:55 AM EST
Nice shooting, Wedge!
Link Posted: 9/21/2004 6:22:04 AM EST

Originally Posted By wedge1082:

Originally Posted By Brisk322:

Originally Posted By DoubleFeed:

Originally Posted By Brisk322:
img.photobucket.com/albums/v157/brisk322/ackbarfish.jpg

Ackbar can't be a fisherman. He's a TRAP! shooter.
Bet you never saw that coming.



He's from Mon Calamari. Fishing is what they do (when they're not whining about traps).



That is warning about traps.



Shouting "It's a trap!" when you're already in the trap is not a warning.

But I've hijacked your thread enough. "Energy Camel" - I must remember that one.

Retire early...Mrs B's grandmother lives in a "retirement community". Three meals a day (restaurant style and quality), lots of stuff to do (Mrs B's mom is an activity person at a different one), no work to do.

We gotta find a way to do it.
Link Posted: 9/22/2004 5:13:32 AM EST
Best. One. Yet.

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