My husband retired last year.
He doesn’t particularly like it. (I think I might particularly like it, but that’s another story.) He sold advertising, but in this economy, sales were down for the company he worked for, and they couldn’t afford him anymore. He was already 65, so he retired. And now he’s 66, so he’s got Social Security as well as Medicare.
As another aside, it is weird to be married to someone on Medicare, when I am myself so very young. My mother says ‘You think that’s weird – try having a child on Medicare.’
But back to Husband’s dilemma: He’s 66, the economy is lousy, and he wants to work.
So he’s always trying to come up with ideas for a second career.
We both think he would be great at house-flipping. He can fix anything. But the real estate market is still awful. Especially where we live.
If he can’t sell houses, though, he could still fix them. In some ways, he’d be a great landlord. We could buy a couple of multi-family homes, or a small apartment building. But on the other hand, he has no tolerance for people who won’t take care of their shit. So he’d probably kill his renters. And he could do it. He has a gun.
Perhaps he could sell guns. But he never sells anything. He only buys. Selling advertising was the exception, because he didn’t have to buy any inventory. Once he owns something, he falls in love. He wants it forever. (Oh wait, I guess that’s a ‘no’ then on house-flipping.) He can’t part with anything. He even keeps old phone books. Expect a story on this eventually.
Computers are out. He’s great with technology – he used to work in the computer industry when storage systems took up whole buildings. But his skills are outdated and he hates school. He won’t even read instructions (but I think perhaps everyone’s husband is like that.)
He makes cool stuff. He made a potting bench for me out of old pallets.
But he’s careful. That is a very nice way to say that he works S-L-O-W-L-Y. He could never churn stuff out fast enough to make a profit.
He has a really nice speaking voice. He could be a DeeJay. But he’d only want to play Gene Autry records. And The Beach Boys. The Surfin’ Spurs Station. Although that would be an interesting format, it would be a very small niche.
He would like to invent something. He comes up with products quite often. His best idea is paint-ball guns you could mount to the front of your car. You would use them on stupid drivers. Left turn from the right hand lane – splat.
But last week he had an epiphany.
We’re driving along, and he said, “I think I have an idea of what I’d like to do.”
“That’s terrific,” I said enthusiastically. I am a wonderful wife, as I’ve said as many times as I can fit it in.
“I want to start a horseradish farm.”