Semi Retirement Quotes

Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus, for example, who more than two millennia later gave his name to the American city of Cincinnati, is supposed to have returned from semi-exile in the 450s BCE to become dictator and lead Roman armies to victory against their enemies before nobly retiring straight back to his farm without seeking further political glory.

The number of her acquaintances multiplied over the years as the number of her true friendships diminished. The Grant Longitudinal Study found that people who were neglected in childhood are much more likely to be friendless in old age... Erica was not solitary. But sometimes she felt she lived in crowded solitude. She was around a shifting mass of semi-friends, but was without a small circle of intimates. Over the years, in other words, she had become more superficial. She had been publicly active but privately neglectful. She had, over the course of her career, reorganized her own brain in ways that were perhaps necessary to professional achievement, but which were not satisfying now that her drive for worldly achievement had been fulfilled. She entered retirement beset by a feeling of general numbness. p341-2

All the principals are dead now. Arthur Q. Bryan died Nov. 30, 1959. Harlow Wilcox died Sept. 24, 1960. Marian Jordan died April 7, 1961. Bill Thompson died July 15, 1971. Billy Mills died Oct. 20, 1971. Don Quinn died Jan. 11, 1973. Harold Peary died March 30, 1985. Jim Jordan married Gretchen Stewart after Marian’s death and lived in semi-retirement for almost 30 years. He died April 1, 1988, at 91. After Jordan’s death, his widow and children donated the bound volumes of Smackout and Fibber scripts to the Museum of Broadcast Communications in Chicago, where they may be read by students of comedy. The museum also has a Fibber closet exhibit.

Mila Givens works as a dental executive coach. She has decades of experience in the dental industry and wants to remain in it until her retirement. Mila Givens is the Chief Executive Officer at Millennium DPM. She plans to semi-retire in two years and enjoys traveling.

Slow down. You’re not as young as you once were.” And I had seen so many begin to pack their lives in cotton wool, smother their impulses, hood their passions, and gradually retire from their manhood into a kind of spiritual and physical semi-invalidism. In this they are encouraged by wives and relatives, and it’s such a sweet trap.

He seemed surprised to hear from me now, his tone holding a note of shock. “Saint, how are you? What can I do for you?” “Kenneth. I just heard about the new volunteer counselor. I was hoping to get a copy of his credentials. As you know, the situation with some of the kids is pretty tenuous and new people scare them,” I said. “Oh! Didn’t you know he was coming? He said he had been approved months ago but he had delayed his start date due to traveling out of state for a family death. His name is Roland Cunningham. He’s been a high school counselor for fifteen years and now he’s semi-retired and wants to give back. He says that he saw so many gay kids who needed an ear.” I rolled my eyes so hard I almost hurt myself and Rio frowned at me questioningly. I shook my head and pulled in one deep breath before I spoke. “No, he hasn’t been approved for months. I’ve never heard of him. I suspect he’s a spy who belongs to Clay Greene.” I could hear Kenneth suck air, then chuckle disbelievingly. “Oh, no, Saint. That’s impossible. He had a copy of a volunteer application that you signed and dated in January. You probably just forgot, I know you’ve had a lot on your mind with your sister and everything.” I heard him click his tongue and had to work to not reach through the phone and wring his neck. “He’s going to make sure the kids have someone else to talk to. Don’t worry about it, I’m taking care of everything.” Rio’s frown had morphed into mild alarm, and I wasn’t sure what my face was doing that was causing it but whatever it was must have been interesting. He edged closer as I took several deep breaths. “Kenneth. Listen to me. You need to be cautious. Have you seen the security reports from Mr. Rao? Did make sure you let him know about this Cunningham? Did you run the background check?” “I glanced through the reports, yes, but no, I didn’t tell him about Roland. Mr. Rao is the night guard and Roland is scheduled for afternoons.” He chuckled lightly. “I didn’t see the overlap.” I did not grind my teeth, but it was a near thing. Rio hovered, not touching me, which I was grateful for. Once I got off this phone I was going to go off. “What about the background check, Ken? You know the background check policy.” “Oh, yes,” Kenneth said. “We did the background check. Completely clean, exemplary record with several awards from his career. Really, you need to calm down. I have it all under control.” “Right,” I said. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it then, Ken. Thank you.” I hung up before Kenneth could reply and Rio looked at me warily. “I am going to have him kicked off the board so fast his fucking head is going to spin. Shouldn’t be too hard, it’s full of ball bearings and broken gravel,” I snarled. “So that didn’t go well,” Rio observed quietly. He was still hovering, clearly unsure of how best to handle me.

Early July 2012 Young, I started reading your blog, “Life Of A Harem Boy,” and it brought back memories of our time together. As much as I am not in favor of you writing about our E.R.O.S. experiences, I applaud your bravery and the honest approach in your stories. Your courage to tell all has somehow convinced me to add my point of view to our adventures together. My dear, you sure have cogent ways of softening my stances in providing credence to your narrations. One thing I’m glad you didn’t do is tell your story as an exposé to discredit the positive experiences of our clandestine society, of the people involved and the schools we attended. For this I laud you. If you are open to my retelling of your stories through my experiences, we may at some point arrive at a juncture where we can be co-authors in one book of your Harem Boy series. This collaboration will provide further credibility to our escapades. I’d be happy to team up with you if you are open to me being a co-writer of one of your 5 books. Since I am semi-retired and have time to kill, it will be an excellent opportunity for me to recount part of my life story in conjunction with you. In many ways, I am glad we reconnected. Maybe the time is ripe for us to work on a joint project (which we had the intention of doing many years ago). Do you remember how we discussed a collaboration but never got around to it? This may be the perfect project. We can tell a similar story from different angles and points of view. I think we’ll also be able to rekindle our friendship more deeply. Let me know your thoughts.

semi retired

My deep misgivings occurred to me firstly as a schoolboy, continued later as a sailor, developed further as a civilian employee, 197and have been evolving in my semi-retirement. What started initially as a gap in trust has become a yawning gulf. We are where we are, and as the situation

Roland “Pickles” Shumaker is my only part-time officer, having semi-retired a few years ago. He’s north of eighty years old now and spends most of his time working the school crosswalk—and occasionally confiscating cigarettes from students who think they’re going to cop a smoke on his watch. The people who know him—and those of us who work with him—do not underestimate Pickles. He may be in his golden years; he may be moving a little more slowly; he may lie about his age. But beneath the grizzled exterior is fifty years of law enforcement experience, a commendation for undercover narcotics work, and the instincts of a man who’ll lay down his life to save your ass.

It isn't the story, because it has ended too soon, of how Granny returned the huntsman to the village in her wheelbarrow, and went back to her happy life in the forest as a semi-retired smuggler, with Diamond for company. Nor is it the ridiculous mixed-up tale told by the huntsman of a wolf in bed, and Granny eaten, and Red Riding Hood saved by his own brave self, rushing in with an axe.