The Elven Duckling Phoebe Ann Retirement Program
Life is deliciously busy for me these days here in Chicago where Deborah and I live happily amongst the beautiful folk of Lincoln Square. If I’m not in the “shed,” (practicing my trombone) I’m composing music for numerous genres and entities, working on graphics or text for some aspect of my multiple websites, writing prose such as what you are now reading, performing somewhere, or recording my podcast. And ALL of this is made up of stuff that I have chosen. The only boss that I have is me, myself, and I (except of course when you include the best things in life which are all under the very able direction of my wife Deborah and our loving partnership thereof)
It’s creativity all day long!
I have always been this way…totally driven by the need to create. However, for 34 years I also had the responsibility and necessity of making a living that would allow me to help raise a family (would you believe TWO families, and FIVE houses? Not all at the same time, of course). The friction that pursuing a full time job in academia while being the best father I could possibly be while STILL trying to pursue my lifelong obsession with creativity…well, THAT is one reason that my marital chronology is so littered with casualties (a story of woe for another time).
But TAKE HEART all Ye glorious and heroic readers! I have now left the stress-pool toxic conundrum of woe that was academia behind! Yep. I FINALLY graduated! But that matriculation left me initially in a frightening landscape of zero income and LOTS of bills.
“Uh oh,” said the man who just realized that the thing he most disliked had actually always given him the wherewithal to pursue that which he truly loved.
Well, they say necessity is a MUTHAH (I may be paraphrasing a bit there) and over these past three years I have nurtured a number of VERY creative endeavors that are just beginning to monetize (baby steps). And of course, finally finding my Deborah after almost 70 years of trying caps it all off in the best way possible.
To sum up, I am a happy man. A truly happy man.
But let’s add one more thing: the golden retriever puppy known as Phoebe Ann Lamberty-Wiest! WOO HOO! This golden goofball is the very personification of love, mischief, and glad tidings. At 12 months of age, she is a fireball of energy, shenanigans and cuddly yummy-ness. She also provides me (whether I want to or not) with daily exercise due to the fact that we have no backyard and must instead walk her. In our neighborhood there are two lovely parks (and a SLAMMIN Irish pub…but I digress) where Phoebe takes Deborah and me multiple times per day (the parks, not the pub). Not only does this afford us the all-important movement and exercise for people in “the youth of their old age,” but it also gets me out into nature where I have two choices:
A) Work on compositions and prose Beethoven-style (albeit with a voice memo app rather than a notebook)
or
B) Embrace some of the perks of being “retired.”
As you can tell from my use of quotes around the word “retire” I really don’t subscribe to the classic retirement concept–that of kicking back, doing nothing, becoming hopelessly bored and waiting for death. No Sir! My philosophy is spelled out pretty well in the opening paragraph of this li’l missive. But sometimes folks, just sometimes (feel free to use the voice of Stephen Colbert on THAT line) I take the time to embrace my retirement and smell the perks (as it were). Today was just such an occasion. So much so in fact, that it inspired this article. Here’s the story:
Phoebe and I were ambling along at a moderate “business man’s bounce” tempo this morning when we happened upon a group of kindergarten kids (or “ducklings” as Deborah and I affectionately call them) at play in the lush deciduous environs of River Park. It was fun to see them all scattered about rather than the cute “little ducky” single file lines they assume while on the move with their teachers. As this was the day after some serious thunderstorms, they all were decked out in spectacular rain coat outfits, complete with yellow plastic PANTS and boots! OY! Did THOSE golden ensembles bring back memories of youth or WHAT?! And one special group of duckies were gathered around an especially adventurous elf who had decided to turn an old tree hollow into a temporary home. How delightful!
It all made me think of a number of things:
- Kids really don’t seem to mind about getting muddy.
- Kids don’t consider the potential for insects of all varieties when choosing playtime habitats.
- (As Thad Jones would say) Kids are pretty people.
- HEY! I used to be a kid!
- HEY! Internally…I STILL AM!
- That is pretty cool.
- I think I will take a moment and just enjoy it.
So I did. And for that brief span of about ten minutes, I was really and truly retired. Job well done young man! Sit thee down and rest your weary bones. You’ve earned it. Thanks kids! Thanks Phoebe!
Then I went home and wrote this article before diving back into writing music and practicing trombone.
Ain’t life grand?!
UPDATE: Since writing this post, the elf-tree has been lost to a storm. I went to the park one day, only to see an ominous pile of sawdust where said duckling refuge used to stand. Alas, everything must change. But that lovely tree who gave so much joy to wee ducklings for years is now forever immortalized right here in Wiest Words. Mission Accomplished!😛
