Nurse the Hate: Hate Retirement

It becomes apparent that this whole “Golden Age of Retirement” scam is a fixed game. My understanding of the social contract is this. You work hard from your early twenties though your mid sixties. You scrimp, save, and don’t allow yourself to enjoy things TODAY as you are saving The FUTURE. According to the 401k website at work and most TV commercials I see, you will then be somewhat grey but still athletic, and paired up with an equally trim and attractive age appropriate woman. You will probably be walking holding hands on a beach, or maybe having a picnic. You will be laughing, or maybe just a smug smile that says “I gave an investment house all my capital, and they placed it in a variety of securities that have allowed me to have the world by the balls. Look at what a smug fuck I am with my implied beachfront property and frisky wife.” That would be great if that happened.

I am fairly certain it will play out like this. The only ones that make money on the 401K will be the company that holds my money hostage until age 65. I will get roughly what I put in over the last 40 odd years if I somehow miraculously make it to retirement age prior to an ugly death. Phantom fees and unexplained market lapses will erode the rest of the “profit” leaving me a slim monthly budget. Social Security will be a trivia answer on Jeopardy (which will still be broadcast, and I will now in my sixties be oddly fascinated by).

If I make that Golden Age, the pharmaceutical companies will have conspired with Corporate Medicine to have me hooked up on a variety of expensive pills that actually cost pennies to make by Burmese Slave Boys whipped by Oppressive Dictator Slave Lords. I will have no insurance as I am no longer working, so my beachfront smug smile money will only go far enough for me to sit in a one bedroom apartment that smells vaguely like socks while watching TV and waiting for death. God forbid if I linger too long after retirement age, as I will have to empty out my coffers completely to get shoved into an “assisted living” home. The “assisted living” is just me in a ranch style cheap hotel attended to by a variety of high school dropouts that may or may not flip me over on my soiled mattress so I don’t get bed sores. I will stare vacantly ahead, and wish I was walking along a particular stretch of California coastline with the breeze in my face.

Do I really have another 25 years of labor? Another 25 years of listening to people fearfully discussing the Economy like Chicken Little? Six more presidential elections to have to watch coverage on and pretend I care? Should I just empty out the fund, buy a Porsche and start writing stupid songs 24/7? Do the Daredevils have a benefits package? Has Leo been stashing money away for a rainy day? God, I hope so.

I think the real answer is to stop screwing around with the 401K scam, and just get down to real gambling. The bookies at least hit you with fees you understand. $11 to win $10. Winner take all. If I took everything in my savings, and just let it ride on one game this weekend, and hit… What if you didn’t have to work again? Is it worth the risk? What if you just took a year’s salary? If you hit, you take next year off. It is an interesting idea, isn’t it? And to think I had Oakland +145 last night. Damn.