Bud’s the first of our little group to retire. Worked for Gagne’s & Sons Heating and Cooling for what? Thirty plus years, I guess. That’s dirty work, repairing furnaces and the like. Plus, you get called out at all hours, day and night. Weekends, too, don’t matter the weather. And unless you’re doing an annual cleaning, the people you’re dealing with are usually real upset. Once he hit sixty-five, Bud was outta there.
Celeste could have retired with him. She was a school secretary. Worked her way up from elementary school to the superintendent’s office, and she had enough time in. But she worked an extra year instead.
She explained it this way, “If I retire the same time as Bud, he’ll be underfoot all the time. You know, always on me: ‘What are we doing today? What are we having for lunch?’ Don’t get me wrong, I love him to death. But I just couldn’t take twenty-five or so years of that. This way, he’ll get into his own routine. I figure he’ll sit around doing nothing for a few weeks, then he’ll get bored. Maybe start volunteering down to the Senior Center, taking folks to the doctor, picking up prescriptions. Or, do a little snow plowing on the side, get a hobby. He’s just gonna be more motivated I’m not around.”
And you know what? Her strategy worked like a charm. Far as the old gals down to the Senior Center are concerned (and I know this first hand, because my sister Irene works there), the sun rises and sets on Bud. Well, he’s so good with them, and you can tell he really likes helping them out.
Then the coronavirus hit and the Senior Center is closed for the foreseeable future. Now, Bud has just too much time on his hands. I’ll let Charlie tell you about it.
My Friend Bud
My friend Bud’s been getting bored
Foolin’ with his flatbed Ford
Guess he had to order parts
So while he waited, throwing darts
He saw those chipmunks they condemn
And took to throwing darts at them
No, he never hit a-one
Until he got his pellet gun
“Oh, at first I tried a trap
But soon I quit with all that crap”
And hey, I kinda see his point
With thousands of them ‘round the joint
Chipmunks, chipmunks, everywhere!
Chowin’ on the acorns there
Digging, tearing up the yard
For Celeste, it must be doubly hard
To see her garden full of holes
And then her husband, switching goals
To something louder, something strange
Their home’s become a shootin’ range!
“All you need’s a pellet gun
And P.B.R. to have some fun.
And if a squirrel comes into view
Bang! Go shoot at that one, too!”
Now and then, she’ll ask of him
If any of those parts are in
“No!” he says, his eyes fixated,
“Car repair is over-rated”
Fall, they’re buried deep in leaves
But Bud’s got plans up his sleeve
“If all these oaks were taken down
There’d be no acorns on the ground
“And no more chipmunks runnin’ ‘round
Acting like they own the town!”
I’m guessing he’ll need more than kisses
To sell his concept to the missus.
I feel for Celeste. I really do. But you know what? I’m sure glad Charlie still gamefully employed and doesn’t have time to engage in that kind of foolishness. Though he does seem to spend way too much time fixated on trying to keep the squirrels off our bird feeders.
That’s it for now. Stay safe and catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: Too Much Time on His Hands