On the downside

February 5, 1979. The day I gave up the good life of a self-employed herbal products retailer, sleeping until 4 pm and listening to Led Zeppelin all evening, for a full-time job, complete with steel-toed shoes, poker cup vending coffee, and time clock. Of course, it was second shift, so I still got to sleep past noon. I was only 17 and it wasn't legal for a punk my age to operate heavy machinery, so I lied about it and signed up for the $3.30/hour gig at Solar-X Corporation in Newton, MA, right next to where International Bike is today. I moved with the company to Woburn when Solar-X was sold, and eventually outlasted four owners at the new location before taking the severance package and bailing out in 2002. That led to the only 12 months in the last 28 years when I was not working full-time. Of course, I managed to finish 30 credits at UMass Lowell during my year on unenjoyment, so it wasn't exactly a vacation.

Somehow along the way I managed to take up bike racing. It went OK, even though I was never consistent enough to make it to Cat 2. When you're 25 starting out, with no athletic background, you can't expect the world. The 30-34 Masters group years were the kindest to me, in no small part due to the best riders in that age group foregoing the easy money for the challenge of staying in the elite field. Even though it was hard, expensive, and in many ways a waste of time, racing was the best thing I ever did. I'm not a people person, and cycling sure as hell has more than its fair share of psychos and assholes, but the number of great people in the sport makes up for it. I've received a tremendous amount of help from a large number of people. One of these days I'm going to do a post where I try to list them all. Don't worry, I'll include you mofos.

So where the fuck am I going with this? Nowhere really, but the thing that hit me the other day is that, according to the custodian of my IRA, I am due to retire from work in just over 21 years. You math majors will know that if I've been working for 28 years and have 21 to go, I am more than halfway there. Fuck. The retirement fund looks like it will have trouble supporting a diet of Kibbles n Bits, and Fancy Feast is completely out of the question. I might have to do something about that. It's good to be able to kick the young guys asses out on the bike, but it's suddenly hit me why the keep us old guys segregated. We really are old, even if we don't feel it. Thanks for reading.