LRU is undergoing this decade’s budget crisis (see here and here for the last time I got worked up enough to blog about it, though really, we’ve been having budget problems since the late 90s; I think by now it’s more chronic than crisis). So, once again, it’s a comfort to think that I can retire if this means a lot of nonsense gets dumped on my plate. But then we have again the problem of what I’d do (besides research and reading fiction). The Grumpies just had a post that relates to this, and Delagar’s response to it also resonates with me, though we currently live somewhere I like a lot and I’m not enthusiastic about the idea of moving again, which would be necessary in order to get any sort of degree in Classics (because it’s not a degree offered very many places anymore, sadly for my inner nineteenth-century schoolboy). I read through all the answers to an AAM “Ask the Readers” about things to do in retirement, which mainly clarified for me the things I don’t want to do.
I do not want to do volunteer work. If I work, I want to be paid for it. Better women than I am worked hard for the right to be paid for their labor, and while I respect the achievements of volunteers, the idea of joining them does not sit well with me. In the first place, having spent my career teaching, I feel no need to “give back”: I gave at the office. In the second, I respect money. Even a part-time job that didn’t pay much would make me feel that I needed to show up for it, because they paid me. If I were volunteering and had to deal with someone annoying or incompetent, I’d just say, “You know what, you do not pay me enough to deal with this! In fact, you don’t pay me at all, so screw you guys, I’m going home.” I think I should save us all the trouble and not even start. I liked Doodlebug’s comment: “I have volunteered but being a type A personality and being involved with no power to change anything, improve inefficiencies, etc., was hard. I do not volunteer anymore.”
Oh, and I don’t want to serve on the board of an organization: that is committee work, which is one of the things I will gladly leave behind when I retire.
Further, or maybe this is back to “in the first place,” I don’t care about helping people. I like teaching, but it supports a research habit. I like to teach the topics that interest me. I don’t want to teach for the love of the process, and certainly not because I want to influence young minds. If anything, I want the young minds to influence me, to keep me from succumbing to “kids-these-days”-itis. I’d be happy to do something that put me around young people, but I don’t want the young people to be the focus. Regarder ensemble dans la même direction.
When I read comments like CM’s (“This is also a great opportunity to make connections within a specific local community — so if you’d like to meet local politicians, or artists, or activists, or families with young children, you can choose an organization that serves and/or is run by those people”), I just say nope! I do not want to meet any of those people. I don’t want to hold babies or work with children. If I worked at an animal shelter I’d just want to take all the cats home. Cleaning up parks . . . worthwhile and within my capabilities, but see above about wanting to be paid for my time; I’d rather work on my own garden, and I don’t think I’d have the energy to do both.
The suggestions to study something had me looking at various tolerably-local “lifelong learner” programs. Some of them have attractive topics, and some of these options are led by respected scholars. But they make a point of no exams, no papers, no degree, just the “fun parts” of learning. Well, call me weird (I’ll embrace it), but I like exams and papers. I want to be able to show that I have attained a certain level of mastery. So, like Delagar, I’d want to get the degree, not just dabble in “fun courses.” I do not want to be a dilettante.
I can see that the people who have lots of crafty hobbies (not me!), and/or are a lot more extroverted than I am, probably are much better off when it comes to retirement. I’m a bit of a misanthrope. I recognize that I need some interaction with other people to keep from getting weird. But I really don’t want to do all the extroverted do-stuff-with-people group things. If I lived in Santa Cruz or somewhere similar (looking at you) hiking would be a great activity for me, but my mostly-flat section of the Midwest just isn’t that interesting for outdoor activities, not to mention being too hot or too cold for about 2/3 of the year.
So I may have to just deal with whatever nonsense is coming down the pike this time, so that I can keep on keeping on at LRU.
Dame Eleanor Hull 
Thanks for the pointer to my blog!
I don’t do much hiking—my wife and I don’t do weekly walks any more, because the difference in our walking paces made her uncomfortable (she still takes walks, but prefers to take them by herself). I walk a little less than once a week with another recently retired professor, but those walks are so short (1–3 miles) that they could not be called hikes.
I had a whole list of projects I was going to do once I retired—almost none of them have gotten started. Instead I picked up new hobbies that I had not planned: making pottery and acting. I’ve started taking theater-arts classes at the local community college twice a week, which is 8½ miles away, so I’m getting my exercise from bike commuting.
The community-college classes do have homework, though it is uncorrelated with the number of units for the courses. One 3-unit course takes up about 3½ hours a week (so more like a 1-unit course) and the other takes me about 15 hours a week (so more like a 5-unit course).
The pottery class is at the local high school, through a county-wide adult-ed program. There is no homework, but we do look at what everyone is doing in an almost weekly sharing time (like an art crit session, but with only positive comments). My pots are still the clunkiest in the class, but I am getting a little better.
I always enjoy reading about your walks! I’ve spent just enough time in & around SC that I can imagine them well, and sometimes recognize the places.
I haven’t really thought about the possibility of new hobbies appealing to me once I retire; it’s interesting that you shifted from your earlier list of projects to new things. Do you think it takes a certain sort of personality to be open to new hobbies, or is it the result of having a more open schedule and then a dose of serendipity?
With a sample size of one, it is hard to generalize about sorts of personality. I just felt like trying something new, and I was specifically looking for more social hobbies than my old ones, because I was spending too much time by myself.