Doing Things Again, But for Fun
I’ll probably teach another couple of years to qualify for my pension, but I find myself thinking more and more about what’s next.
For years, I’ve said that if I work in retirement, I want to work somewhere people want to be. Not someplace where everyone is counting the minutes until they can leave. A ski resort. A swimming pool. A health club. Somewhere associated with enjoyment.
A recent possibility occurred to me after my wife and I took a cooking class. I can’t teach a cooking class. At least not unless the class is “How to Burn Toast and Misread Recipes.” But I could absolutely be one of the helpers.
At our recent class, two younger employees were assisting the instructor. One spent most of the time washing dishes and cleaning equipment. The other did prep work, set out ingredients for each station, and generally made sure everything was where it needed to be before the students arrived.
And I found myself thinking, “I’d enjoy doing that.” In fact, during a break in class, I actually asked if they wanted help cleaning up.
I think I’d like it, not because it pays well. It doesn’t. Not because it would advance my career. At sixty years old, I’m probably done worrying about career advancement.
I think I’d enjoy it simply because I’d enjoy doing it well.
I was a short-order cook all through college and spent my senior year of high school working as a prep cook at a chain restaurant. At the time, I’m sure I complained about the job. Most teenagers complain about their jobs. Looking back, though, there was something satisfying about it.
The actual food prep wasn’t always exciting. There was an endless supply of tuna salad to make and popcorn shrimp to prep. Not exactly culinary artistry. But I worked with a great older coworker. Older, of course, meant nineteen or twenty. We’d listen to WXRT while working in the prep area and just get the job done.
What appeals to me now isn’t even the cooking.
It’s the preparation.
The mise en place.
The organization.
The cleaning.
I’d enjoy making sure every baking sheet was spotless. Every knife returned to the proper place. Every station stocked perfectly. I’d take pride in making sure each table had exactly the ingredients they needed so they could have a great experience.
There’s something almost zen about that.
Maybe that’s one of the advantages of getting older. When you’re young, every job has to be leading somewhere. You need advancement, status, money, a better title, a bigger future. Or it’s time-filler/money while you wait to do the real thing.
Now I find myself attracted to jobs that are worthwhile for their own sake.
No ladder to climb.
No promotion to chase.
Just showing up, doing useful work, helping people have a good experience, and going home satisfied.
Maybe I’ll look into it when we get back from our three weeks in Utah.
Of course, there is one potential problem. The cooking school is attached to a kitchen store. If employees get a discount, there’s a very real possibility that my entire paycheck would immediately be spent on cast iron pans, bread knives, Dutch ovens, proofing baskets, and kitchen gadgets I absolutely do not need.
Retirement may not be as financially secure as I’ve been led to believe.