RETIREMENT: Mind Marshmellows...

Thinking of retirement was a sword fight between the two men within, the churchman-manager on the front lines wanted relief, the other man, the medic that wants to help people, felt youthful and needed. What to do, what to do, here I was with an angel on one shoulder, a demon on the other, each yelling heart messages in the inner ears, you know the spiritual ones we're suppose to hear God with. A four year vacillation brought Buckwheat and  I to this final glorious thought: Much more to do, so we decide to retire while we still have some skin left, and semi-youthful steps left in our stride.

But now, a week into it, what am I/we feeling...humm, how can I put this, "stupendouslydelicious."

Let's see, what do I feel about my retirement? I awake every morning like a bald man who's suddenly discovered he's grown hair in the night, youthful, full-headed, wavy, blond hair. Once I've bounded out of bed, I discover money, lots of money, strune all over the floor, at first I think it's leaves, but then Ulysses S. Grant's face is sticking to my feet, where did it come from, oh, that's right, I left the window open and it's blown in with the gentle breeze during my full nights, pleasant dream sleep.

I feel like I'm getting away with something, I look out the window often to see if the police are going to come and arrest me for stealing the tranquility and joy in my jar.  Hey, what's that sound, shh, I can't hear, shh..........................oh, listen, it's sweet Hawaiian music wafting over the trees from far, far, away. The song, "Coma Ona Ova To Da Sandy Shores."

Hey look, more money. Retirement is adult candy, it's SMORES, marshmallows for the mind.