I must love retiring … I’ve done it three times.
Traditional
My first retirement — and perhaps the most traditional — was when, at age 65, Marie and I sold Clapper Publishing Company. The family business was created when my parents launched Pack-O-Fun. Child labor laws didn’t apply, and I was on the payroll at ten years old.
After Mom and Dad’s retirement, I acquired Crafts ‘n Things,
Painting,
and The Cross Stitcher,
and launched Bridal Crafts.
Except for school and a brief stint at Univac, magazine publishing was my life’s work.
The decision to retire was forced when the internet upended the magazine publishing world. Under the gun to sell, we were blessed to find a buyer that left us with enough to afford pursuing dream jobs with little concern for pay.
Do I miss it? Hardly. Still today, when Marie and I see a magazine rack, we look at each other, smile, and say, “Aren’t you glad we no longer care that our magazines are being buried behind the competition?”
Recreational
The next retirement came when I sold Grandpalyle’s Ark. It was an old motorhome I made to look like new—and uniquely mine.
Spring and autumn in Arkansas are spectacular. But winter and summer… not so much. As soon as the heat or cold became unbearable, I headed north or south in search of friendly weather.
Although the Ark was beautiful after the major refitting (including a washer and dryer — even a dishwasher), the chassis was twenty years old. And it broke down. And breakdowns were never convenient. Like just east of Columbus, Ohio, I wondered why I was slowing down — then saw a driveshaft on the pavement behind me. Or, braking to check traffic as I pulled out of a mountainside overlook, I pressed the pedal to the floor with zero response.
It seemed that on every trip, one of the campsites was the back lot of a truck repair shop. The only redeeming grace was that, while sidelined, I slept in my own bed, fixed breakfast in my own kitchen, and watched movies in my own living room. But it grew tiresome. One evening, the dinner view wasn’t a crisp mountain lake; it was a service pit under the open floor around the engine. It dawned on me that both Grandpalyle’s Ark and Grandpalyle were getting long in the tooth — and I had the ability to change one of those.
After eight years and sixty thousand miles, the Ark found a new home. I still miss it and occasionally pine for a newer, more reliable motorhome … but I know it will never happen.
Avocational
The most painful retirement came after 55 years of flying. My love of planes began when I was eight, making models with my Uncle Leland. In college, Air Force ROTC included a ride in a four-seat trainer. The ceiling was so low we couldn’t get out of the traffic pattern—but in those five minutes, I was hooked. At the University of Illinois, I discovered an elective: Aviation 101. Course completion included a final grade — and a private pilot certificate. The dream came true.
Over the years, as time and money permitted (both are required concurrently), I added new ratings and experiences until I earned what I describe as a PhD in aviation: Airline Transport Pilot (ATP) and Multi-Engine Instructor (MEI).
For 25 of those years, I mixed business and pleasure. Travel was fun. I saved time. I flew direct to any town, large or small. I flew whenever it pleased me. And I never suffered the trials and tribulations of airline travel.
After selling Clapper Publishing, I had the luxury of teaching flying at Skill Aviation in Waukegan for five years. I watched a twelve-year-old take off for the first time and blurt out, “This is awesome!” I signed off a student for her first solo … and sweat out her checkride that ended with the magic title: Private Pilot.
But times changed, and we moved to a condo on Lake Michigan. I had always wondered how my flying would end. It turned out to be most undramatic. The 90-minute drive to Waukegan took all the joy out of it, and I simply stopped.
I thought I had retired … but I was wrong. The opportunity to teach again in Arkansas presented itself — but it proved to be the beginning of the end.
Here’s that story:
https://grandpalylesnotebook.com/another-rite-of-passage/
And now …
I’m officially retired — from the occupations and avocations that I’ve loved for 75 years. All but one.
I’m still blessed with a colorful and loving family. And they still bring me oodles of joy. There’s only one way I’ll retire from that … and I’m in no hurry.