Back to work . . . sort of

My official retirement date last year was December 1st, meaning that is when I ceased to be an employee of my former employer and they stopped paying me every other Friday. Per my severance agreement, a final payout would follow in early 2026, but I was officially retired December 1st. 

I stopped working, however, October 29th. So, I am coming up on one year, which is hard to believe. 

I had some concerns about retirement. I know myself, and I know I need a routine. And I know I need things to do. 

With that in mind, I signed up for some volunteer gigs. One of those was temporary, which involved helping an organization for which I was a former board member and board chair find and hire a new CEO. 

That one took up a fair amount of time for about six months and has now ended. I have plenty going on, and I'm pleased to say I am never bored. As long as there is something to read or something to write about, when I have a little bit of down time, I am in good shape. 

With the CEO search committee commitment ending, I had some freed-up time. I have kept my eyes open for something worthwhile to fill a little more time. 

Years ago, when we got new windows on our house, the company sold them to us asked if I would post a review. (This was in return for supposedly giving us some type of deal. Whatever.) I told them I was not on any type of social media, so they told me I could post it on Next Door, which is a neighborhood website that apparently is widely used and read in neighborhoods like ours. 

I posted the review and in so doing, apparently "subscribed" to Next Door. While I don't routinely visit their site, I get emails from them and at times there is just enough of a hook in the subject line to pique my curiosity, so I end up briefly scrolling through the site. 

I have found some good information there, including a couple of home maintenance companies that I've used a handful of times. 

A big part of the site, however, pertains to animals, whether wild or domesticated. A lot of people post pictures of snakes, asking their neighbors to tell them what kind it is. People also like to post something their night camera caught, like skunks and racoons. 

On the domesticated front, there are the occasional lost dogs and cats. Also, a person sometimes wants to "rehome" their pet. And this is when the crazies come out. 

Someone says he/she needs to find a new home for his/her pet, and inevitably, that person is attacked by people telling them they should have never gotten a dog in the first place if they couldn't take care of it. These self-righteous ones say they treat their pets like members of the family and would never "re-home" one. 

All this without knowing anything about the person's circumstances or lot in life. And honestly, I read some of that for the entertainment value because it's so absurd. 

All of the aforementioned is a digression from what I intended to write about, but I suppose it's important for context, so you know why I occasionally peruse the Next Door site. 

Getting to the point (finally), I have taken on a part-time job courtesy of Next Door. A few weeks ago, I saw a post from a business saying they were hiring drivers. They are a private chef company, meaning they make meals for people to order weekly and have delivered to their door. In summary, I sent them a message via the site. They responded and asked me to come talk to them. I was hired onsite. 

And as of a couple weeks ago, I am a driver for this company on Monday afternoons, which is when customers' meals are delivered for the week. I am paid a flat amount that covers my time and my mileage. The first week I made 12 deliveries and this week I made 15. 

I might add that I can also theoretically get tips, but so far that has amounted to a walloping ten dollars. I suspect the patrons of this company believe they pay enough already. I would probably feel the same. 

I told Wife if it were the least bit stressful, I would not do it. I have not completely kept that commitment because the first week there was some stress involved as I tried to simultaneously manage the routing app, the email I had received with my list of customers and a text with templates to use for confirmation texts I am required to send to each customer once dropoff is made, along with a photo of what I just delivered. 

Meals are left either at customers' doors, in a cooler left on the front porch or a garage refrigerator to which I am given access. 

Between Week 1 and Week 2, I came up with some good shortcuts to maneuver all of it, and Week 2 went much more smoothly. Week 1 took me three hours. Week 2 took me two hours and fifty minutes. The efficiencies I came up with worked, in that I cut ten minutes off my time with three added deliveries from Week 1 to Week 2. 

The only stress in Week 2 occurred when I started to leave a home that was at the bottom of a steep driveway and family members all watched as I wound my way back up the hill, and a sweet but overly aggressive dog that wanted me to play with him. 

I have a support person to call or text with any complications which so far have been nothing more than a couple of coolers that were not big enough for the meals I was delivering. I did not report the dog, because he was not a problem for me. If, however, I deliver to that house again next week and have the same experience, I probably will, not because the dog bothers me, but because if another delivery person goes to that house, especially a person of slighter build, it could be a problem. 

All in all, so far, so good with my new part-time job. It's fun seeing different parts of the city and I have managed, for the most part, to reduce any associated stress. Not a bad way to spend a Monday afternoon. 

... and Wendell

The tributes have poured in for Wendell Berry, who recently passed away at age 92. He was described as a novelist, poet, essayist, farmer and environmental activist. 

I had figured out Mr. Berry lived only a few hours' drive from me, in Port Royal, Kentucky, and it had been my goal (fantasy?) to meet him, and drink iced tea on his front porch while he pontificated. 

I have read some of his non-fiction and poetry, and I have read all of his fiction except his most recent, Marce Catlett, his final volume in the Port William series, published last year. It's near the top of my TBR. 

For those who have not read Berry, I will give you my standard recommendation. Start with Jayber Crow, then move on to any in the Port William series. Although I am usually a stickler for reading series books in order, for this one I relax that rule. The characters are so rich and the narrative so sweet that chronology can be set aside. 

As it turns out, Jayber Crow is the pick for our book club in September, and we will be discussing it next Tuesday. I rarely re-read, but I am reading Jayber again, since it's been quite a few years since I first read it and I want to fully participate in the discussion. 

RIP Dolly

I have a feeling many of us will remember where we were when we heard Dolly Parton had died. 

I was sitting at my desk in what was once my home office (when I was working) and is still a place I often hang out during the day when I am reading or writing. 

I received an alert on my phone from one of my news sources, telling me Dolly had died. I could not believe it. Had I not just seen her on TV a few days ago? 

Because I live in suburban Nashville, I immediately turned on the TV to a local station. Grim-faced newscasters were conveying the news and already looking back on Dolly's life. 

Dolly's house is about a half-dozen miles from mine in the suburban town of Brentwood. She was seldom spotted in public (other than her official appearances), but Wife and my three children swear they saw her 25-ish years ago in a Blockbuster Video store. I was not there, so I can neither confirm nor deny it, and I suppose they would have had no reason to make it up. 

I never saw her perform and never saw her at any type of appearance she made. But like just about everyone, I liked Dolly. I thought she was funny, genuine and smart, and I loved that she lived nearby, at least part of the time. I think she spent a fair amount of time near the theme park she built, "Dollywood," in the Tennessee hills where she grew up. 

There is speculation about what will happen with her home here. Although it sits on five acres, back from the road a bit, it is still in a residential area, and I can't see it being made into a museum like Graceland (Elvis Pressley's home) in Memphis. I am sure neighbors in that area would not be pleased to have a tourist attraction right around the corner, and I'm guessing some zoning laws would have to be changed to even permit it. 

All that will be worked out in time. For now, we simply remember Dolly with a smile. 

Consider the hummingbird

I wanted to include a picture with this post, but my subject is elusive. 

That would be any of the hummingbirds that feast at my feeder, hung outside at the top a large picture window in our kitchen. 

When a hummingbird positions his/herself there, I simply cannot get in place quickly enough to get a shot. So, use your imagination. 

Here is the part of providing hummingbirds with nectar I find most baffling: their unwillingness to share. 

There are four spickets on my hummingbird feeder, with plenty of room for that many to feast simultaneously. 

But no. When one has decided to have a meal, and another one shows up, the new one gets chased away. 

Every. Time. 

If only I could teach them the joys of breaking bread (or sucking juice) together, I think they could have a change of heart. But no. The first one to the feeder decides he owns it, and woe to those who might dare try to perch alongside him. (Or her. I can't tell the difference between male and female hummingbirds.)

Some of my grandchildren were in town over the weekend and I decided to use the hummingbird feeder as a teaching tool. I showed it to them, explaining what I have just written here, and lamenting the lack of sharing that takes place in the hummingbird community. 

They enjoyed watching for a few minutes but were soon on to other things. 

Somehow, I hope the lesson about sharing, and how unattractive it is to be selfish, sunk in. 

 

In the kitchen

Wife and I have lived in our home, which was built in the mid-80s, for 25 years. 

Over time we have we have made changes and improvements, mostly cosmetic, although in the playroom we tore out some cabinets and installed some built-ins. But in general, lots of paint, flooring changes, bathroom overhauls and tearing down some god-awful wallpaper over the years. 

We have a nice-enough kitchen. It's not huge but it meets our needs and we have room for a decent-sized table and chairs which is a nice supplement to our dining room when we have family and/or friends here and need additional serving and/or eating space. 

The cabinets were originally a wood finish and we had them painted off-white before we moved in. We also replaced Formica countertops with granite. 

We've repainted the cabinets at least twice, but over time they looked tired, and the paint would always begin to chip. 

A couple of years ago we got a quote for a complete kitchen renovation in which we would pretty much gut all of it and start over with new cabinets and a new layout. It was cost-prohibitive to say the least. It was bonkers what it was going to cost, and there was simply no way we would do it. 

So we have continued to touch up the paint here and there and re-attach cabinet doors and drawer fronts that began to wear. 

Early in the year, we decided we could at least make some changes to brighten things up a bit without breaking the bank. Our cabinets -- the "boxes" -- were still in decent shape, so why couldn't we simply get new cabinet doors? 

Hardly anyone would even discuss that with us, and we would be told time and again we might as well get new cabinets. Unfortunately, that is a huge cost, a significant part of the entire project. 

So, we could just continue to live with what we had. 

However, Wife continued to persist and finally found a competent person whose company would do what we wanted -- install new cabinet doors, new countertops and a new backsplash. The price they came back with was quite reasonable (a fraction of the quote to renovate the entire kitchen) and to make a long story short, we have what looks in many ways like a new kitchen. They even added a foot to the length of the kitchen island, and it does not feel cramped at all. We could not be more pleased. 

We don't know how long we will stay in this house, but we will enjoy this while we are still here, and I think potential buyers will find the updated kitchen a plus. 

Before and after below: 

                                                    

A little July 4th jaunt

Wife and I had no plans for the July 4th weekend. All of our family members were otherwise occupied, and most of our friends had plans as well. 

I have been in kind of a funk about the 250th anniversary because Trump, as he so often does, has tried to make it about him. Some years back we went to Washington for the 4th, spent a good part of the day out on the National Mall and watched the fireworks behind the Washington Monument that night. We had the whole family with us (it was before grandchildren and even before two of the in-laws, although one of them was with us as a significant other) and it was a lot of fun. 

But it was definitely a one-and-done, something I care not about doing again. And I would not have gone near the place this year with Trump's "state fair" and all the various ways he co-opted the event. 

Now, let me say, in many ways this is my problem. As much as he might like it to be otherwise, Donald Trump does not own this country, and I have just as much right -- if not an obligation -- to be patriotic as I ever did. So, I am acknowledging I have some work to do to get my head straight about all of this. 

And to be fair, July 4th has never been a favorite holiday anyway, long before Donald Trump, probably because it's in summer, and July 4th, in the places I have lived in my life (primarily Arkansas and Tennessee) is usually blazing hot. 

Back to my point (yes, there is one). With our having no July 4th plans, about a week before, Wife and I discussed how we might spend it. Wife usually makes our travel plans but said she was up for anything if I wanted to come up with something. 

Readers might recall a couple of years ago I visited the Abraham Lincoln Museum Library and Museum in Springfield, Illinois. I thoroughly enjoyed it and decided I should visit other presidential libraries and museums when the opportunity might present itself. Best I can remember, in addition to the Lincoln one, I have visited the Bush library (Bush II) in Dallas and that's it. I have not even been to the Clinton Library in Little Rock, where I lived 17 years and where I still visit friends from time to time. 

I did some research and figured out the Harry S. Truman Library and Museum, in Independence, Missouri, would be about an eight-hour-drive for us. 

So, this is what I proposed to Wife and she was in. We drove a little more than half-way on Thursday July 2nd and drove on to Independence Friday morning. We toured the museum that afternoon. When we were done, we drove into Kansas City and enjoyed Kansas City barbecue that evening. 

As it turned out, Kansas City was hosting part of the FIFA World Cup and in fact, that night Ghana and Columbia were playing. We stayed at a hotel downtown across the street from Union Station. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, was about FIFA. The streets were filled with fans. And while we are not soccer fans, it was interesting to witness all the hoopla around the World Cup tournament. 

On Saturday morning we visited the World War I Museum and Memorial just a short walk from our hotel. After having visited the Truman library and filling our heads with World War II knowledge and information, and the next day spending several hours looking at artifacts and reading placards pertaining to WWI, our minds were overflowing and we realized how much history we had forgotten, 

To supplement my visit to the Truman museum, I have been reading The Accidental President by A.J. Baine, subtitled: Harry S. Truman and the Four Months that Changed the World. Truman, of course, ascended to the presidency when FDR died in April after being inaugurated for his fourth term the preceding January. Truman did not even want to be vice-president, much less president, and yet here he was, faced with arguably one of the most difficult decisions of any president in history (dropping the atomic bomb). 

Saturday night we attended a Kansas City Royals game (we manage to work baseball into our trips whenever possible) and stayed for the post-game fireworks. After visiting two American historical museums and being reminded of the sacrificial service of so many patriots, I felt a bit more like celebrating. 

Although we had planned to go to another baseball game Sunday, the temperatures were soaring and we decided one was plenty. We drove all the way home. 

Here are a couple of pictures from the front of the Truman museum, and from the fireworks show after the baseball game: 

                                                       

    

                                                       

Two quarters behind us

If I were still in the working world, yesterday (July 1) I would have been marking the end of second quarter, and the mid-way point through the year. 

Since I am no longer in the working world, I no longer have to concern myself with such milestones. But since I still follow the rhythm of a calendar, I can't help but think about being half-way through 2026 and how incredibly fast life goes. 

Wife and I have learned much over the course of nearly 42 years of marriage, with one of the main lessons being that with a family, you are going to have ups and downs, highs and lows. Sometimes the good parts come on the heels of the bad parts (and vice-versa) and sometimes they come simultaneously. 

We started the year knowing our son-in-law's cancer journey, after two years (his diagnosis was in November of 2023), was not nearly done. And at the mid-year point, it is still that way. 

Although he is getting a break from treatment right now and they (my daughter and their family) are spending a wonderful week at the beach, next week there will be another doctor's visit and discussion of where they go from here. If you are reading this and you are a praying person, I would ask you to continue offering them up for this sweet family, and for Wife and me as we continue to navigate our role in all of this.

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Last week Wife and I became grandparents for the seventh time. Our youngest and his sweet wife added a little girl to their family. She has a two-year-old big brother who was not immediately delighted with her presence but is warming to her. 

                                                                                   

We were in charge of Big Brother during the birth but got to see the new little bundle of joy a few hours after she arrived. All is well, and Wife and I are overjoyed with this newest addition to the family. 

A new baby is perhaps the closest I get to witnessing a miracle. 

Ups and downs. Highs and lows. 

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We spent a couple of days in Atlanta and watched our eight-year-old grandson play baseball. We also watched his dad, our oldest, serve as the volunteer pitcher. 

Another lesson: the more things change, the more they stay the same. Just as they did when my sons and daughter were participating in sports, certain parents and grandparents, especially those who sit in the stands and make no contribution whatsoever to the event other than their butts in seats, feel free to offer their opinions. 

Not only was our grandson, who is one of the best players on the team (says his unbiased grandfather), criticized for, among other infractions, (a) bunting or (b) not bunting at the alleged appropriate times, his father -- our son -- who is 40 years old and volunteers his time, was the object of catcalls and loud comments regarding the proficiency of his pitching to eight-year-olds. 

For example: 

"Good eye, Junior! I wouldn't swing at that either!"

"You gotta slow down, pitcher!"

"You gotta pitch faster than that!"

I am not making this up. 

But you should be proud of Wife and me. We stewed and we seethed, and one of us might have gotten up and walked away and demonstrated with body language the disgust we felt, but neither of us made a scene by turning around and telling the offending parties what they could do with their thoughts and opinions. 

And I guess if I'm being reasonable, I know my 40-year-old son does not need his dad, who is much older than 40, stepping in to defend him. But really, I could have done a great job taking them all on in defense of both my son and grandson. 

And it would have been so easy to do so because we don't live there and we don't have to see those people again anytime soon. But our son and daughter-in-law do live there, so it would not have been fair to them to leave our mark. 

But I wanted to. 

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Ups and downs. Highs and lows. Calm and anxiety. Smooth sailing and rapids. 

With eyes open and (sometimes) eyes closed. 

Tomorrow or today?

I guess it had to happen sooner or later in my retirement life, not knowing what day -- or date -- it is. 

The sad thing is I have no excuse. My (very) smart phone tells me the date when I open it for the day. I have an electronic calendar as well as a paper one. 

And yet, this morning, when I parked my car in the parking lot of my haircutting establishment, Michelle, who has cut my hair for several years, was parking hers a few spaces away. She waved at me, but with a peculiar look on her face. 

I was pleased because, since she was just arriving, I would be her first appointment and there would be no waiting. My schedule is busy in retirement, you know. 

I walked in a few paces behind her and sat down in one of the waiting room chairs, knowing the wait would be brief. 

Michelle comes out of the back room with the same peculiar look from the parking lot. 

"I don't have you in my book today," she said. 

I proceeded to tell her, politely, how there must be some mistake on her part. Just as I got the words out of my mouth, she said, "you are scheduled for 8:30 tomorrow morning."

"But let me show you my calendar and my email confirmation," I said, before turning 50 shades of red as I confirmed what she had just told me, that my appointment was tomorrow. 

"Well, what date is it?" I asked her, and bless her heart, with a look of pity, she answered me in a quiet voice, before saying, "I'll see you tomorrow, OK?"

Surely there is a three-strike rule, and I'll get at least one more incident like this before she calls my wife and suggests an intervention.  

Travel notes

As mentioned in my last post, Wife and I spent two weeks in the Pacific Northwest in May, starting in Seattle with baseball (which I wrote about on my Substack and linked in my previous post). From there we went to Mount Ranier and Olympic National Parks in Washington, then drove down the Oregon coast and into northern California to see the redwoods. 

This was our first time visiting this part of the country, which we thoroughly enjoyed. And, as I mentioned last time, this knocked off two more states for me, with four remaining to get to fifty. 

Here are a few pictures from our adventures. The first two are from Washington (fish market and Olympic National Park), the next three are along the Oregon coast and the last is from Redwood National Park. 

                                                                                

                                                                                    

                                                                                    

                                                                                

                                                                                

Similarities and differences

Wife and I recently returned from two weeks in the states of Washington and Oregon. You can read about the first part of the trip on my Substack --  (1) 30 in 32 - Bob McKinney: What I Know  -- where I recount my time in Seattle visiting my last Major League Baseball ballpark. 

I will post a more thorough narrative from the entire trip here soon, with pictures, but for this brief post I want to share about a major similarity and a major difference I observed in this part of the U.S. when compared to where I live in Middle Tennessee. 

The similarity was in the people. The people we met in Washington and Oregon seemed to go out of their way to be welcoming and friendly. It seemed everywhere we went we encountered people who smiled, spoke to us before we spoke to them and wanted to know how we were and where we were from. 

In a town in Oregon (I forget which one), on a day when we needed to restock on some provisions, we went to a Target store. Conservatively, I would say a half-dozen employees greeted us with smiles and asked if they could help us with anything. For one item I needed, a female employee dropped what she was doing and walked with me to the aisle where the item was located. Whether restocking shelves or working the checkout line, they could not have been friendlier. 

This is largely what we experienced in stores, restaurants and hotels along coastal Washington and Oregon. Refreshing to say the least. They might have spoken with a different accent and inflection in their voices, but they were every bit as friendly and pleasant as the people I generally encounter in the South. 

The big difference? That would be the political environment. I live in a very RED state. Like many parts of the country, we are having primary elections. In Tennessee, that means Republicans are running against each other to see who will face a Democratic opponent in November. And around here, the person who wins the GOP primary, unless something just this side of a miracle happens, is already the presumptive candidate who will prevail in November's general election. 

For example, one of our current Tennessee senators, Marsha Blackburn, is running against two opponents in the Republican race for governor. She is heavily favored.  I guess there is also a Democratic primary, but I could not tell you who any of their candidates are. 

But I can tell you this: when Marsha wins the GOP primary, she will be pretty safe to start measuring for curtains in the Governor's Mansion. That's how red we are here. 

Her commercials and ads, like those of her Republican colleagues running for other offices, feature narratives of how she "stands with President Trump" and of course, Marsha has been fortunate enough (if you want to call it that) to literally stand beside the prez in the Oval Office and you can bet we see those images often. 

In Oregon, it is a completely different vibe. Whenever we happened to be in hearing or seeing range of a television, we saw commercials for Democratic office seekers promising how they would "stand up to Donald Trump" and the perceived ills he has brought upon their state and the country at large. 

Signage was similar, with promises to fight Trump and ICE. Quite the contrast with where I reside. 

It turns out we can learn a lot from a temporary change in geography.  

See you back here soon. 

Retirement update

 It has been five months since I worked my final day and entered the life of a retiree. 

For the most part, I was ready to retire. There had been management changes I was not pleased with. Had it not been for that, I would have probably worked longer. But things happen, and it was time. 

My biggest concern about retiring was not necessarily how I would fill my days, but how I would establish a routine. Although I do not have to follow a strict schedule, I function better having a bit of a plan, however casual that might be. 

To help with this, I purchased a paper calendar, one that corresponds with the electronic one on my phone. I realize this makes me a bit of a Luddite, but I can live with that. I like looking at my weekly schedule laid out before me, and I see it better on roughly 8 by 11 paper. 

My vision of retirement included volunteer work, maybe a part-time job, spending more time on writing and music, getting together with friends and, of course, spending time with family. 

Here is how this has played out: 

I generally get up between 5:30 and 6 a.m. which is no different from when I was working. If I happen to have allowed myself to stay up a little later the previous night, I might vary from this waking time, but in general, this is my practice. 

I do some reading and devotional time between 6 and 7. Around 7 I either go for a walk or go to the gym (the county recreation center where I have a pass), or a combination of the two. When I go to the rec center, I engage in some stretching and stationary bike riding, all to continue to the rehabilitation of my knee. 

I am usually back home around 9, and how I spend my days depends on what I have going on. 

I am still singing in a community choir, which I love. We meet on Tuesday nights, so during the day Monday and Tuesday, I will spend some time looking at the music for our upcoming spring concert (May 2nd) and listening to recordings of the tenor part for each. 

I enrolled in a couple of adult education classes, one of which was four in-person sessions that required nothing but going and listening for a couple of hours. This one, which pertained to government and the U.S. Constitution, is over. 

The other one is much more intense, much like a college course (but without tests and writing papers). It's on Christian ethics and is 100 percent online. It goes for ten weeks, and we are about to wrap it up. It has been great. 

I served for 16 years on the board of directors of a large Nashville non-profit, two years as board chair. I rolled off in 2020, but I still have a fondness for the organization and its mission, which is to help people through homelessness and addiction. The current president and CEO is retiring, and I have been asked to serve on the search committee for a new CEO. So far, those meetings have been online, but we will have some in-person interviews of candidates over the next couple of months. 

I have a couple of other volunteer commitments, one with a local food bank and another with a non-profit dedicated to helping solve the worldwide water crisis. 

I try to meet a friend for lunch once a week if it's feasible. Sometimes it is, sometimes it is not. Also, Wife and I recently joined a book club, but it has been a challenge for us to get there. It meets Tuesday nights, the same night my choir practices, so I either have to miss that or book club. We are hoping, once we have established ourselves in the book club a little more, we might be able to persuade them to change the meeting night. 

This past week I traveled to Montgomery, Alabama where I joined a group to visit the Legacy Sites, established by the Equal Justice Initiative, to call attention to the history of slavery and oppression of the Black race. It was a moving experience, and I'll write more about this soon on my Substack. 

I wrote on my Substack about a trip Wife and I took in late February/early March to Florida for MLB spring training. We also spend a fair amount of time traveling to Atlanta, Huntsville and/or Birmingham to see the family. We have a trip to Seattle planned in early May, where we will meet Older Son and his family and he and I will go through the turnstile of our last major league park, a quest we began in 1994 when he was eight years old. 

More to come on that. After baseball, Wife and I will take the opportunity to visit more of the Pacific Northwest, including Victoria, British Columbia and the Oregon coast. 

On days when there might be a lull, I have no problem whatsoever reading whatever book I have going at the time. Reading during the day is a luxury I have looked forward to. 

The part-time job has not materialized, but I have some thoughts and ideas after we return from Washington and Oregon in May. 

All in all, retirement is going well for me, with just enough meaningful activity to keep me busy, but at a slower pace than when I was working. In addition to all I just described, there is always plenty to do around the house and I am slowly cleaning out the basement, purging as much as possible. I have also promised to refinish a china cabinet for Older Son and DIL. That will also a be a top priority after the May trip, unless I can squeeze it in prior to that. 

Believe it or not, I do miss work sometimes. I mostly miss the people, but I also occasionally miss the intellectual stimulation. I will read something in the news about banking regulation and sense my pulse quickening a bit, only to remember this no longer involves me. 

Then, I quickly realize that is mostly a good thing, as it is someone else's problem! 

Still recovering

In my last post I told you about the ice storm we had. It's still a big topic of discussion around these parts. 

While we were four and one-half days without power, there were those who did not get theirs back for two weeks. As you can imagine, there is much finger pointing, mainly at local government officials for lack of preparation, and at the power companies (there were two different ones involved, and customers of one seemed to regain power much more quickly than customers of the other), also for lack of preparation but also for the slowness in achieving full restoration.

We stayed at the house one night without electricity. By the time our friend came and collected us (because at the time, there were still two trees across our driveway and we could not get out), the temperature in the house was hovering around 40 degrees, with our only source of heat being our fireplace with gas logs.   

We kept a steady drip going in all the faucets and I had covered the ones outdoors. I was advised by a couple of friends to shut the water off completely. The problem was, when I received that advice, the trees had been cleared and cut up and all the debris from that was in the front yard near the curb for pickup and chipping, covering the water meter where the water shutoff valve is located. 

On Thursday morning (the day power was restored), one of my friends told me he was on his way over to help me get to the shutoff valve so we could shut off the water.  He felt pretty strongly about it. Thankfully, before he arrived, power was back. 

As for the criticism of various local officials and the power companies, I am going to sit that out and let others talk about it. The mayor of Nashville has appointed a special committee to look into it, review lessons learned and make recommendations for how this might be better handled if, God forbid, this were to happen again.

I think that is a good plan. I am sure there is room for improvement, but that is always the case. I am grateful to have had power restored and that our damage was minimal. We needed those trees down anyway, so for me, there was a silver lining. 

By last week, temperatures were in the 70s. But I've been around enough to know false advertising when I see it. We were back in the low 20s last night, and snowflakes danced around for a short time this morning. 

Winter storm 2026

It's not as if we were not warned. 

Last week the TV weather folks kept warning us of a huge winter weather event that would hit a big part of the U.S., including our area, starting at the end of the week and packing a huge punch over the weekend. 

I have great respect for the meteorologists who predict the weather. I understand it is not an exact science and how what is forecast does not always happen exactly as narrated. But they are often VERY accurate, and I have learned it's not a bad idea to listen to them and govern myself accordingly. 

I do not go into panic mode when snow and ice are predicted. Sure, Wife or I will make a trip to the grocery store to stock up on a few things if we think we will be housebound for a couple of days. But (a) we have never been housebound more than a couple of days because, when winter weather has been concerned, we have always been able to get out after a day; and (b) in a worst-case scenario, we could eat from our pantry and/or our refrigerator or freezer for a number of days if we needed to. 

We were told, however, that this storm, because of ice and long-term cold that would accompany it, could bring power outages. 

So, how do we prepare for a winter storm with a possible power outage? I cover up the outside faucets. When bitter cold sets in, I drip the inside faucets and open the doors beneath the sinks so warm air might circulate around the pipes. We also power up the little battery packs we have that can charge our cell phones. We make sure we have flashlights and candles. 

We do not own a generator, and our fireplace has gas logs (which we updated a year ago), so there is no fuel to obtain nor wood to chop. Power outages in the past, caused by storms any time of year, have generally lasted less than 24 hours. 

The snow started last Saturday morning, right on schedule. We got maybe a couple of inches. About an hour after it stopped, sleet began and a thin layer of ice topped the snow. That lasted maybe an hour. Although we were not going anywhere, cars were still moving along our street and things seemed fine. 

We went to bed Saturday night hoping we had dodged a bullet. 

No such luck. Freezing rain overnight brought another layer of ice that covered everything. Our power went out at 6:30 a.m. I write this 72 hours later and power has not been restored. For our power company, outages numbered about 220,000 in the greater Nashville area, and as of this morning, power has been restored for about half. That does not include us.

Wife and I got up Sunday morning and assessed the situation. We decided to hunker down at the house. We pulled two chairs in front of the fireplace to maximize the benefit of the gas logs, which do emit some heat. 

We opened the refrigerator and stocked two coolers with provisions. We have a gas cooktop, so we could cook on top of the stove. 

And oh yeah, when we looked out the window, we saw that major parts of two trees along had collapsed under the weight of the ice and were strewn across the driveway. We were not going anywhere until that was cleared. I sent a text to my lawn guy and asked how soon he could send a crew. He said it would be at least Tuesday. 

We got cozy in front of the fire. We set up a card table and Wife taught me to play mahjong. (More on that in a subsequent post). We used our phones sparingly to preserve their power. 

Our next-door neighbors came over with lunch. They also have a gas cooktop and had made a big pot of chili, and they brought that, a bag of chips, soft drinks and additions for the chili like cheese and sour cream. It was so very kind of them. 

We did fine Sunday. The thermometer on the thermostat hovered around the low 60s. After sundown, it went into the high 50s. 

At bedtime, we warmed blankets by the fire, then ran upstairs to our bedroom. All bundled up, we slept pretty well, dreaming about awaking to power restoration which was, in fact, only in our dreams. 

Monday afternoon some friends in another part of town with power took pity on us and came to get us. We've been here ever since, although my friend took me home yesterday so I could be there when the yard crew cleared the trees. It was 40 degrees inside the house. After that I was able to get out of the garage and driveway, so I came back to their house. We are still here. 

Will today be the day for power restoration? We can only hope. 

The winter storm of 2026 will not soon be forgotten. 

2026: State of the Blog

My friend TB, over at The Forty-Five, at the first of each year posts a primer on his blog, explaining the names and labels he uses, giving his readers and friends a summary of his life as he relates it on his blog. 

During the past 18 months or so, he has relocated, so he reminds readers what terms such as "New Home" and "New Home 2.0" mean. I appreciate his style of writing and his updates. 

I am a little more open, using my real name and location, so I don't need to make any such explanations. But taking my cue from him, I feel inclined to write some type of "state of the blog" at the beginning of this year. 

I started this blog in 2008 at the encouragement of my friend Kelly, a childhood friend. She and I don't remember when and where we first met (although it was likely in the church nursery), but we also don't remember ever not knowing each other! 

So, Kelly got me started and I've been here ever since. Things have definitely changed over the years, and I have changed some myself. If you were to look at some of my early posts, you might think, today, I would be a card-carrying member of MAGA. Nothing could be further from the truth, as I have made no secret of my disdain for the current occupant of the White House, and I am pleased to say I have never voted for him. 

My situation might be somewhat like Ronald Reagan's when he became a Republican, saying he did not leave the Democratic Party but, rather, it left him. 

For me, I suppose it would be the other way around, but I was never a staunch Republican and I sure as heck am not, and never have been, a Democrat. Over the course of my life, I have probably voted for GOP candidates more than Democrats. But since Donald Trump came on the scene, my leanings have definitely changed. I will address this and related issues in a subsequent post. Let's get away from politics for now. 

In 2011 I became a weekly columnist for a local online publication. My blog writing became less frequent when that happened, but I also posted links to my columns here from time to time. My column lasted until 2022 when new owners ceased running my work (not that I'm bitter). 

With the end of my column, I started writing on Substack. Readers of my column followed me there, and I have a decent following. Some of you are also subscribers. If you would like to subscribe, here is the link: Bob McKinney: What I Know | Substack. You'll get each installment in an email. Please be assure I understand if this blog is plenty for you. 

So, what is the difference between this blog and my Substack? I am glad you asked. 

The Substack is a continuation of the column I wrote, which was titled "What I Know." The tagline says it best: Everyman. Life Observations. Occasional Opinions. I will write about any number of topics, including but not limited to books, food, family life, friends, local issues -- whatever might be on my mind, and I try to write in an upbeat manner with a healthy dose of humor. And yes, I'll occasionally express an opinion. Readers are able to interact with me via comments or direct emails, which I thoroughly enjoy. 

This Monday on my Substack, I'll be posting a somewhat tongue-in-cheek report from the annual meeting of the Bob McKinney: What I Know Substack Steering Committee. I say tongue-in-cheek because the committee consists of one member, me, and the annual meeting is very much a reason for me to enjoy my favorite local taproom for an hour or so. But, as Monday's column will confirm, I really do hold the "meeting" and set some goals. 

The blog is more personal. Over the years I have made some friends here, and the folks and their blogs listed on my sidebar make up what I think of as a community of sorts. And while I write here less than I did in those early days, I still very much enjoy it and especially enjoy the interaction with those of you who read and comment. Even more, I enjoy reading your blogs. 

I am more likely to share details here about matters affecting my family, such as my son-in-law's cancer or my retirement. I also post pictures from vacations or certain events. If it happens to snow here, you can bet you'll see a picture of it here. 😀

With my recent retirement, I might write more at both places. I have renewed my commitment to weekly posting on my Substack -- we will see!  With this being my second post of 2026 in this space, I think I am off to a good start here. 

So that's the state of things as this year begins. I'll continue telling some stories and I'll look forward to reading yours. 

Cheers. 

International Christmas Eve: Spain

I did not get very good pictures, but in keeping with my practice to report on my family's annual international Christmas Eve here, I will post these. 

As has been our custom for the past decade or so, we observed Christmas Eve Dec. 26th and Christmas Day Dec. 27th. We had everyone here -- 14 humans. (Next year there will be 15, as Younger Son and his lovely wife are expecting baby #2, a girl, in June!)

This year was Spain. Decorations were bright colored flowers, both real and paper, along with a Spanish flag and banners also with bright colors. Ladies had the option of wearing decorative headpieces while some of the men wore fedoras. 

As usual, we started in the entry hall with appetizers (Wife made a Spanish themed charcuterie board) and drinks (sangria and a Spanish beer, Estelle Damm). For dinner, we got tapas from a local Spanish restaurant which Wife and I had tried a couple of weeks before. All were delicious and we all enjoyed the ease of it, especially Wife. 

Now that the children are older, they also participate in the fun. 

As they say in Spain, "Todos lo pasaron bien!" (A good time was had by all!)

                                                        

                                    

                                            

Reading 2025: Fiction

 Fiction I read in 2025: 

1.    The Exchange by John Grisham

2.    Camino Ghosts by Jonn Grisham

3.    All the Glimmering Stars by Mark Sullivan

4.    The Life We Bury by Allen Eskens

5.    None of This is True by Lisa Jewel

6.    My Friends by Fredrik Backman

7.    The Mystery Guest by Nita Prose

8.    Sipsworth by Simon Van Booy

9.    The Caretaker by Ron Rash

10.   The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

11.    The Correspondent by Virginia Evans

12.    Culpability by Bruce Holsinger

13.    The Widow by John Grisham

I would recommend any/all of these with #9 The Caretaker being my favorite, and #11 The Correspondent coming in at a close second. 

Rash (The Caretaker) is a brilliant writer, the author of Serena which I read a couple of years back. which was excellent but dark, and with few redeemable characters. I liked this one better. 

Virginia Evans deserves high praise for The Correspondent, which is equal parts funny, poignant and moving. Being a letter writer myself, this one was perfect for me. 

Grisham continues to crank them out (three on this list), and I continue to read them. Fortunately, I have a friend who buys all of them and passes them on to me when he is done. 

Culpability (#12) is certainly worth your time if you have any interest in, and/or concerns about, Artificial Intelligence. 

#6 My Friends is another solid read by Fredrik Bakman, author of A Man Called Uve and others I have enjoyed. 

#3 All the Glimmering Stars is nothing short of disturbing and one likely to stay with you long after you have finished. Masterfully written, it is based on the true story of two teenagers kidnapped in the 1990s and forced to become child soldiers in Joseph Kony's Lord's Resistance Army. It reminded me of how much injustice there is in the world and how largely insulated I am from it. 

My nod to the classics was #10 The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. My interest was piqued when a pastor in my church referenced it while preaching on Romans 7 and the Apostle Paul's struggle with his sinful nature. I very much enjoyed this one and will likely read something similar in 2026. 

Speaking of 2026, Happy New Year to all of you. I hope to be reading more now that I am retired and look forward to sharing more titles. I hope you will do the same. 

Reading 2025: Non-fiction

 I have read 29 books this year and 16 of those have been non-fiction, so more than half. I will list them here, then make a few comments: 

1.    The Hour: A Cocktail Manifesto, Bernard Devoto

2.    Roots & Rhythm, Charlie Peacock

3.    The Riverside Boys, Thomas Fuller

4.    Here be Dragons, Melanie Shankle

5.    The Fix, Ian Cron

6.    Will the Circle be Unbroken, Sean Dietrich

7.    You are My Sunshine, Sean Dietrich

8.    My Sojourn, Mike Cosper

9.    Challenger, Adam Higginbotham

10.    Little Miss Diagnosis, Erin Nance

11.    Oath of Honor, Liz Cheney

12.    The Last Sweet Mile, Allen Levi

13.    A Fever in the Heartland, Timothy Egan

14.    Surprised by Joy, C.S. Lewis

15.    Help, Thanks, Wow, Anne Lamott

16.    How to Test Negative for Stupid, Senator John Kennedy

I enjoyed all of these. As I have stated previously, I have a 50-page rule, meaning if I don't like it at 50 pages, I decide to take a pass. That rarely happens because I have usually done enough research to know I will probably like the book. 

While these were all good, my favorite is #9, Challenger, by Adam Higginbotham, about the explosion of the space shuttle of the same name in 1986. As I posted on my Substack when I recommended it there, that occurrence is of particular significance to me as it took place the day we brought our firstborn home from the hospital. We head news reports of it as we walked down the halls to make our exit. 

In addition to the narrative about the Challenger and details about crew members and their families, the author offers glimpses into NASA and the space program in general at the time. I found it fascinating. 

I also very much enjoyed a rereading of #14, Surprised by Joy, C.S. Lewis's account of his conversion to Christianity. 

The Last Sweet Mile, by Allen Levi, author of Theo of Golden (my favorite fiction from 2024), describes the last year of Levi's brother's life, and the sweet times they shared together. It's a tearjerker for sure, but worth the tears, in my opinion. 

I will offer a disclaimer for #16, How to Test Negative for Stupid, by Senator John Kennedy, Republican from Louisiana. This book was passed on to me by a friend who is more conservative than I, and who knows my feelings about the Republican party in general today, and Donald Trump in particular. 

But as I told my friend when he handed it to me, I am willing to consider a point of view different from my own, and I can learn something from most people, even those with whom I largely disagree. 

That would be the case with this book. I enjoyed Kennedy's take on serving in the Senate and his view of Washington, D.C. There were points he made, especially about dysfunction in government, with which I agreed. I enjoyed his description of life in Louisiana, a state less than 20 miles from where I grew up in south Arkansas, and the state in which I attended college. 

But like most political memoirs, his narrative was self-serving. While Kennedy portrays himself as an independent-minded senator, his MAGA colors shine through. 

The most fun book on the list is #1, The Hour: a Cocktail Manifesto. First published in 1948, the author explores what he perceives as the many benefits of spirits and the cocktail hour. Read in the right frame of mind, the author's tongue-in-cheek humor should please imbiber and teetotaler alike. 

Again, I enjoyed all of these, and I would recommend all of them (with the disclaimer I just made for #16). If you would like more information on any of them, send an email and I'll be glad to engage. 

Back soon with fiction for 2025. 

Also, Merry Christmas! 

The Thanksgiving that grew

We have set the tables for Thanksgiving. 

In fact, we set them several days ago. Wife believes having the tables ready provides a good framework to work from as she prepares. No argument from me on that. 

This year will be our biggest ever, with 26 humans on site. 

It started with our family, which now numbers 14. Older Son's wife's parents live here, and they will be joining us as they usually do. I have recently come to know a first-cousin-once-removed who lives only a few miles away. Her mother, who died about three years ago, was my first cousin. Her father had died before her mom. 

I sent her a text a couple of months ago asking if she, her husband and two children would like to join us for Thanksgiving. She immediately accepted, saying holidays have sometimes been difficult since both of her parents passed away and she would love to be with extended family. Oh, and she has a sister (also my cousin, obviously) who will be visiting with her husband from Viriginia, and they will come too. 

That put us as 22. We set the dining room table for 11. We set up a six-foot table end-to-end with a card table in the front room (what we call the living room). Wife found a tablecloth that fit the two tables, so it looked like one. We were ready to go. 

Or so we thought. 

A few days ago we were talking to Daughter, who told us about her college friend who lives here (whom we know well) with her husband and two children, who will not be traveling and will not be with family for Thanksgiving. 

We were scarcely off the phone before Wife had placed a call to this person and extended an invitation for them to join us. She accepted. 

The card table came down, replaced with another six-foot table now end-to-end with the other one. Two matching tablecloths replaced the one that would no longer fit. 

We are at 26 and holding.

"Are we crazy?" Wife asked me a couple of days ago. 

"Not yet," I sheepishly replied. 

Work: a retrospective

I told you in my last post I was going to be reflecting on my working life and recording some thoughts here. I also told you it would not be something I would expect you to read if you were not inclined to do so because it's probably way too much about me. Putting myself in the reader's place, frankly, I don't know if I would read it. 

So, feel free to skim or skip this installment entirely. It will not hurt my feelings in the least. 

Before I start, I will tell you I am one week into retirement, and it took me less than a week to make the joke about not knowing when I had time to work. 

I have filled my days with deferred projects such as taking old paint to the landfill, making a couple of trips to Goodwill and doing some straightening up in the garage. I still don't feel I am in a routine or rhythm yet, but I am confident I'll get there. 

I told Wife there are definite things I miss about work (mainly the people), but there are certainly things I do not miss. So far, the things I don't miss outweigh the things I do. 

***************************************

From age 16 through my college years, I had various jobs. I won't go into all of them here but will tell you my favorite was when I worked in Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado the summers of 1980 and 1981, which were the summers after my senior year of college and first year of law school, respectively. All of that probably deserves a separate post but suffice it to say this was my "adventure" job and not only did I have the time of my life and make some great friends, but I also grew up a lot. Again, I will save elaboration on this for another day. 

I majored in journalism in college, which was a liberal arts degree. With that, I had a lot of electives. I filled those mostly with English classes and even some music classes after I had all the basic stuff out of the way my freshman and sophomore years. I also got academic credit from working on the school newspaper and served in editorial positions my junior and senior years, for which I also received a very small salary. 

I loved working on the paper and appreciated all the opportunities it afforded me. The head of the journalism department served as publisher and advisor for the paper, and he became a good friend. My fellow editors and reporters were good friends too. 

But for whatever reason, I could not see newspaper work as a long-term career. And I never worked in that business other than what I did on the school paper. Looking back, I think maybe I did not have the passion for it to work the long hours, which would have included nights and weekends, that would have been required to work my way up and make a decent living. This is really past-tense speculation on my part, because I don't remember the reasons for many of the decisions I made at the time. 

I always had in mind that I would apply to law school. I had an interest in government and politics, and I thought it would be good to have some type of profession. I certainly did not have the aptitude for math and science to have been a doctor or dentist, or the analytical acumen to be an engineer. 

So, I took the Law School Admissions Test and applied to several different law schools. I went to college in Louisiana, so I applied to a law school there (LSU in Baton Rouge). I was an Arkansan, so I applied to the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville and also the University of Arkansas at Little Rock (UALR), which I ended up attending. I also applied to the University of Mississippi (Ole Miss) and I could not tell you why. Maybe I was covering all my bases in case some of them didn't want me? Who knows, but I don't remember even remotely considering attending law school in Mississippi. 

I got in all the schools but, as I said, I chose UALR. I had always been an Arkansan, and Little Rock was a couple of hours from my hometown, so it seemed a good choice. 

Law school was a shock for me. Although everything worked out and I am confident God was looking out for me, if I had it to do over again, I would not go to law school right out of college. I was woefully immature and unprepared. Besides that, I am embarrassed to tell you I really did not have a good understanding of what lawyers do, and there I was studying to be one. 

It is no exaggeration to say I was miserable that first year. I struggled with the classes and with making friends. Although I probably should have been considering internships or clerking positions, all I wanted to do was go back to Colorado for the summer. And that is what I did. 

Things got better during my second year. I still didn't love it, but I found my stride. 

Mid-way through my second year I got a job with a law firm, an insurance defense firm, and I worked for them through graduation. They were not, however, offering me a permanent position. 

Although I never knocked it out of the park academically, I managed to graduate. And I made some friends. 

I applied for a law clerking job with a circuit judge in Little Rock and that was my first job out of law school. 

I liked the job, and I liked the judge I worked for.  I did legal research and I even served as judge (appointed as a "special master" under a state law) on small cases. (The first time someone called me "your honor," I looked around to see who they were talking to.) 

Although there was no mandatory end-date, the life span for those jobs was generally a year to 18 months. 

After one year, however, I chose to marry rather than look for a job. But not long after returning from my honeymoon, I began to look for something else. I had come to know a number of lawyers during my time in the court and started to spread the word. 

I ended up leaving the court in December of '84 and going to work for a guy who became and still is one my closest friends. He had been a lawyer with the Arkansas Attorney General's office and went to work under contract with the Arkansas Insurance Department working on the liquidation of a very large Arkansas-domiciled insurance company. He needed another lawyer and he hired me. 

It was interesting work and, as I noted, I gained a close friend. Although he was six years older, we were both in the midst of starting families. In that respect, we grew up together. 

When I go back to Little Rock, whenever possible, I try to see him. We have gone from being young dads to being grandfathers. We always pick up where we left off. 

That job lasted three years and from there it was on to the practice of law in a law firm. By this time I had, in fact, learned what lawyers do. Unfortunately, I had also learned I cared little for it. I am by nature conflict-avoidant, and I spent a big part of my days fighting with people. 

Even with my distaste for the work, I developed expertise in finance and real estate law. My clients were banks and mortgage companies. I also did some family law work such as divorces and adoptions. Although the clients seemed to like me, I tended to get too personally involved with them. Let's face it, what they were going through was emotional and it was hard for me to separate myself from that. I tried to treat the divorces as business transactions, but that was difficult. (Interestingly, though, because of that experience, over the years as I have had friends who have gone through divorces, I have advised them to, as much as possible, treat it as a business transaction.) 

Through my work with banks, I got to know some people in town who had formed a small financial services company. They offered me a job as their general counsel. I won't bore you (any more than I already am doing so) with all the details, but we serviced mortgages, collected on debt and eventually got into auto financing. I did a lot of contract and transactional work and experienced less conflict than I had with my work at the law firm. I felt I had finally found my niche. 

This is the job that brought me to the Nashville area in late 1997, the one that I thought would be my long-term career. The joke was on me. In the spring of 1998, that company was in Chapter 11 bankruptcy and eventually went out of business. 

In what undoubtedly involved the hand of God, before I left the company (I stayed on a few months after the bankruptcy filing), the acting CEO at the time, a Nashville native, came to me and said he felt really bad for what had happened, that I had uprooted my family and moved to a new place for a job that was not working out. 

He said he would do anything he could to help me and asked that I give him my resume, which he would share with others. 

The next day, I got a call from the chief compliance officer of a bank in Nashville. Later that day I was in his office for an interview. The next week I was offered a job in the bank's legal department. 

And thus began my career in banking, which became a perfect fit. A year after I went to work there, that bank was acquired by a bank in Alabama. The legal departments consolidated, with part of it being in Nashville. I stayed with them until 2005.

Again sparing the minute details, that year I went to work for another bank in another legal department. I enjoyed it a great deal, but there was one aspect of it that made it tricky. That bank was headquartered in Memphis, three hours west of Nashville, where I live. Rather than move to Memphis, I rented a tiny apartment there and commuted most weeks from Monday to Thursday, usually spending three nights a week there. I worked from home on Fridays. 

Remote working was not near the thing it is today, so my working offsite one day a week was a big deal. My manager and my manager's manger were both skeptical, but I proved it could be done and after about a year, it was a non-issue. 

I received no small amount of unsolicited feedback during those years from well-meaning people who thought the commute was too much for me. It taught me how important it is to mind one's own business. I knew I would not do it forever, but at the time it worked. I looked at it as an adventure of sorts. I loved my little downtown apartment. If it had not worked for me and for my family, I would have quit. 

I am sure I was less than polite to some of those who gave me the unsolicited advice, but I tired of hearing how hard it must be on me, because it wasn't. 

And I was right that it would not last forever. In early summer of 2015, after ten years of commuting to Memphis, I had dinner with the same person who had hired me in 1998, now the chief compliance officer of yet another bank that succeeded the two I had previously worked for. Near the end of that dinner, we had come to a tentative agreement for me to come to work there, this time managing a group of compliance professionals. 

By August I was there. Oh, and this bank was also headquartered in another city -- this one in Birmingham, Alabama, about three hours south of here. So, there would again be a commute. 

This one was different though, with much more flexibility, and my signing package included money toward the travel. A co-worker offered me use of his guest house when I was in town. That lasted for about a year and a half and after that I started staying in different Airbnbs, which was a lot of fun. After a couple of years, I was going two to three days a week, and usually out only two nights. 

In 2019, Younger Son moved to Birmingham and he and I worked out a deal in which I stayed with him. He got a two-bedroom apartment, and I helped with the rent. Then came COVID. 

When COVID hit in 2020, I came home to work, and I never went back. Since March of that year, I have worked 100 percent remotely. I have some thoughts on all of that which I will share another time. 

(By the way, when I took this job that also involved commuting, the nay-sayers mostly retreated. Or they at least kept their thoughts to themselves.)

Management changed a couple of years ago. My good friend that hired me retired, as did my immediate manager. But I still had a good team of people who reported to me, and I still mostly enjoyed the work. 

The past decade has been the best of my career. I have thoroughly enjoyed the work and the people and consider myself immensely blessed. 

Wife retired six years ago. She and I have been preparing for my retirement, and now it is here. Although the effective date is December 1st, I wrapped things up a week ago. 

I second-guessed myself a lot over the years. Maybe I should not have gone to law school, I would think to myself. Maybe all of this was something I was not cut out for. 

I will concede I was not well prepared for law school. I should have done more prior research about what I was getting myself into. 

I am leaving out plenty about circumstances surrounding the job changes and transitions, some of the stress and anguish that accompanied all of it. 

Today, looking back, I know some things. I am grateful for my legal education. Maybe my temperament was not that of a typical lawyer (certainly not a litigator) but knowing how things work from a legal perspective has proved to be invaluable on many occasions. 

Once I got into transactional work, dealing less with conflicting parties, I had found my place. And the past ten years, also working in a management role, has allowed me to use more of my strengths. 

At one time or another, I said to each of my three children that work is not supposed to be easy and that is why you get paid for it. Stress and uncertainly come with the territory. Learning to navigate that ends up being a big part of one's working life -- or at least it did for me. 

Throughout this post I have made reference to friends I made at work. Without a doubt, that has been the best part about it. More than anything else (other than the pay, of course) during my working years, I value the relationships I formed. 

I have also not gone into detail about the move from Arkansas to Tennessee in 1997. From the outside, I probably looked foolish moving myself and my family here. But I know it ended up being a wonderful place to live and Wife and I are extremely happy here. 

I will continue to look back, I am sure, as time passes and I settle into a new sense of normal. Right now, when people ask me how I feel since I have retired, I have a one-word answer: grateful. 

 

Day 1

 I wrapped up work about 11 a.m. yesterday. 

I was instructed to turn in my laptop and associated equipment (docking station, keyboard and mouse) at a local branch of the regional bank that has been my employer for the past ten-plus years. 

I would not say I was melancholy, but I was definitely pensive as I logged off for the final time. I was not just ending this segment of my working life but ending my working life in general. I thought back on all the years of working. I will post something soon that elaborates more on that. (I know you don't necessarily need to read that but humor me. It's cathartic.)

After turning in my equipment, I took Wife to lunch. We had a very nice time. 

After lunch, we ran a couple of errands. While we were in a store, I received a text message from someone with my employer, asking about the "travel charger" that goes with my laptop, the cord that is used when I am not hooked into the docking station. (Which was not on the list of items I was to return.) 

This was the perfect illustration of the current state of affairs. While I am being retrospective and even a little sentimental, they are wanting their cord. 

Yeah, you're welcome for the years of service and dedication. I'll get that right to you. 

And just like that, I was over it. As the saying goes, it's not personal; it's business. 

Today is the first full day of retirement. I woke at my usual time. I did some reading. Took some carboard to the recycling center. Threw away some stuff from work (all paper, mainly notes I have taken, no computer equipment). Some friends were leaving on a trip, and I took them to the airport. 

Now I am sitting in my favorite tap room, my first visit here in many months, writing this post. I will then do some reading. 

Tomorrow is Friday, the day before the weekend. The weekend will no longer hold the significance it once did. 

It's a new chapter, but one I think I am ready to embrace.