"ER" : Early Retirement Pros and Cons

Here in the throes of middle age I find myself becoming obsessed with it.

"It" is not the stereotypical midlife crisis icon of the red convertible. Or the conversion to entreprenuerism that causes career white collar workers to finally chuck their job and live their dream of "being their own boss." It's not even the hard-bodied cocktail waitress, tempting the long-married, harried midlifer to rage against the ennui with a furtive fling. (I'd rather, truth be told, just have the cocktails.)

No, my obsession is with a concept that, until recently, seemed far down the road, yet which now is close enough to almost taste. It is a concept that conjures up endless streams of blissful imagery, the stuff that daydreams are, increasingly, made of:

"Early Retirement." What a concept.

The very sound of it fills me with joy. The anticipation of its impending arrival is akin to that magic a child experiences on Christmas Eve, or when pulling into the parking lot of Disneyland (in my case, it's the relief I feel in the parking lot when we're leaving Disneyland, but I digress.) Imagine a day, a week, a life lived without the yoke of obligatory employment! Imagine a Monday morning that is just that-a Monday morning, to be savored and seized and maybe even squandered, not spent rushing through rush hour in a bleary-eyed blur, blue with the prospect of another week with weary nose to dreary grindstone. No, the week would simply be there, unfolding lazily at its own sweet pace, built around activities pro-actively chosen, not scheduled at someone else's whim. It would, in essence, be my week, with my plans (or lack of plans, if I so choose), not theirs.

There wouldn't be meetings-unless I decided, for some reason to call one. There wouldn't be deadlines-a fact that, alone, elevates the concept to Nirvana status. There wouldn't be fears of career stagnation, no looks over the shoulder at the younger Turks threatening hard-earned turf. No politics. No performance reviews. Oh, wouldn't it, to quote Eliza Doolittle, be loverly!

But would it?

Would the bliss of a carefree Monday soon dissolve to the abyss of a life without work? Would the days be dominated by inane daytime TV? Would I miss the electric, addictive buzz of the office world? Would I ever eat lunch in this town again?

More importantly, would I truly maximize my time? Would I exercise more, travel to exotic locales, read great literature, learn a language or an instrument? Would I carpe the proverbial diem?

Most importantly of all, could I really afford to give up those paychecks?

I'd like to think that the answer to all of the above would be "yes." It would be loverly, Eliza. Freed from the bondage of gainful employment I envision a life reawakened, a life genuinely lived.

I see exercise not on a treadmill but on a daily constitutional, drinking in all the neighborhood sights, sounds and smells as they unfold before me.

I see leisure travel at a leisurely pace, where an itinerary would be deliberately vague, allowing us to improvise as our encounters would dictate. I see not mere travel but exploration, even adventure. I see not just making reservations, but making memories.

I see time spent on artistic pursuits long suppressed. Writing would be not a brief respite from a commercial work day but a focus of the day itself, perhaps even including screenplays and novels. Music would be written, not just listened to. Photography would be used for expression, for vision, not just to capture a family snapshot moment.

I see golf. Lots and lots of golf.

As for financial considerations, perhaps those would receive more attention as well. Protecting and growing the nest egg, changing the options based on the market fluctuations, taking the time to really understand what the options really mean-there would be no excuse not to put forth the effort, and every reason to learn how to make it all work without work.

And we haven't even mentioned grandchildren.

I am, in short, absolutely convinced that the time-and the savings--would be very well spent. I am also willing to take the chance that I'm wrong, and that boredom will overtake me, sending me back into the working world with the embarrassed but renewed vigor of a former "E Retiree." In fact, the prospect of actually seeing light at the end of the white collar tunnel has created an ironic new motivation for me: I'm quite willing to work hard now if it will hasten my age of retirement.

The last few rungs on the success ladder will come easier now.

There's light up ahead. I can see it. It's almost time to jump off.

And then head straight to the ER.