One of my relatives lived on a pension of $23 a month. Of course that was his military pension in 1866. That’s $491 in 2024 –  poverty level for sure. 
In retirement I do a great deal of reading, listening to and viewing opinions and strategies about others planning to retire. Having managed pension and 401k plans for decades, I can’t let go. 
One thing I know for sure, views about retirement are as diverse as each individual.

Note: The following is an abridged version of an article I wrote months ago but never submitted to Jonathan. It’s from my ‘Shelved Articles’ archive. 
RETIREMENT CAN BE a time for reconnecting with old friends. I’ve always enjoyed keeping up with pals from my early years. Of course, many friendships have fallen by the wayside as time passed, but I value the long-term connections I’ve been able to maintain.
I had a habit of saving nearly every personal letter I received—back in the days when handwritten missives were a thing.

DO YOU REMEMBER the days before you could drive? You felt like you were on a leash. No freedom. No fun.
I have news for you: Those days could return.
One of the post-age-65 nightmares that we don’t talk about enough: Most affluent retirees live in the suburbs. Homes are miles from grocery stores, medical offices, movie theatres, restaurants and—perhaps most important—drugstores.
In the suburbs, the stream of city-based public transportation usually slows to a trickle.

I see this new Forum as akin to the Bogleheads forum.  I have some problems with that site, and I (obviously) like this one better.  But one very interesting post I saw related to retirees from 2000.
The idea is that, theoretically, 2000 was just about the “worst time” someone could retire because it was shortly before the 9/11/2001 drop in stocks, followed by the 2008-09 plunge.
As a mid-career investor, I’d be interested to hear how retirees from that time period fared.

I’VE BEEN MARRIED TWICE, yet neither time could I take my newlywed wife on a proper honeymoon, let alone a lavish one. Hearing the honeymoon stories of others always left me feeling wistful, tinged with a hint of envy.
My first marriage was a bit rushed. My first wife—now my ex—and I wanted a no-frills civil marriage followed by a simple reception. But my parents insisted on a traditional Bengali wedding with its array of rituals,

WE’RE IN OUR SECOND year as nomads, having sold our Texas home and driven away from our storage unit in November 2022. In the few years before that, we often talked about where we wanted to move, but could never quite decide.
When I retired in 2021, we traveled for most of the next 12 months. At the end of it, we still hadn’t decided where we wanted to live, but we knew we wanted a change,

OUR RETIREMENT INCOME is built on a slew of financial products and strategies. But we should think less about the gory details of each—and more about the role they play in our overall retirement finances.
The fact is, while each of us comes to retirement with different levels of wealth and different desires, we all want both a sense of financial security today and confidence about our financial future. How can we best meet those twin goals?

SUPPOSE YOU KNEW you’d live until at least age 90. How would that change your thinking about retirement?
It seems most of us focus less on the possibility of a long life and more on the risk of an early death. This grim view is buttressed by endless anecdotal evidence—celebrities who pass away in their 40s and 50s, terrible accidents that take multiple lives, old classmates and colleagues who die at tragically young ages.

WHAT THE HELL WAS I doing all those years?

That’s the riddle that confounded me when I retired eight months ago. Much to my surprise, I didn’t find myself wandering in the desert of despair, missing my crowded email in-box. I was not bereft without staff meetings, diversity training, team-building exercises, cupcake Fridays. I felt not the slightest urge to lean in, stand up or spend any more time with management consultants.

I had a wonderful career as a financial journalist and public relations professional,

THE LONGER I SPEND in retirement, the more convinced I am of the benefit of reliable income. One of retirement’s most pronounced psychological shocks is the loss of a regular paycheck. After four decades of working, you get used to one coming in every two weeks. The occasional consulting paycheck, even a small one, makes me inordinately happy.
I’m fortunate to have a traditional defined-benefit pension. It built up over 31 years of working with a large aerospace engineering firm.

I HAD LUNCH RECENTLY with a longtime friend—a 66-year-old retiree. I asked him how he’s generating income since he hasn’t filed for Social Security and doesn’t have a pension.
He said that, for now, he’s just drawing down his savings. I know his wife is three years older and her lifetime earnings were much lower than his, so I asked him if she’d filed for Social Security. He proudly said that she hadn’t—because she expects to live to age 90,

I’M TURNING 70 THIS year, and that’s got me thinking about the legacy I’ll leave behind. Legacy for me involves much more than bequeathing money to the kids. It’s about the contribution I’ve been able to make and the people I’ve helped along the way.
Since retiring, I’ve been on a mission to help folks have a better retirement. This resulted in me co-authoring three books on the subject. In addition to my family,

MY WIFE AND I ARE different in many ways. This is good and bad. The good part: I get to see both sides of any issue we discuss. This includes our retirement.
Toward the end of 2020, we stopped working within three months of each other. We were both eligible for Social Security and Medicare, so those two key ingredients of a successful retirement were there for us. But we have different visions of retirement.

I RECENTLY SHIFTED from part-time work to complete retirement. I closed my laboratory, published my final research findings, and handed over my teaching duties to a bright-eyed, newly minted assistant professor.
After I cut the career cord, my retired friends cautioned me that I’d likely experience a multifaceted, work-related dream, similar to those described by Andrew Forsythe in a recent article. They just didn’t tell me it might be a nightmare.
Sure enough, a few nights after retiring,

I HAVE A SIDELINE writing stories for a local newspaper. Every now and then, even in a small rural community, you’ll find folks who blow your mind. One such individual is a retiree named Junius R. Tate, who goes by J.R. and who spent his youth in Washington County, Kentucky.
Tate hiked the Appalachian Trail, which crosses 14 states from Georgia to Maine and is roughly 2,200 miles long. It takes a determined hiker about six months to complete.