By Ed Meckle, Retired LAPD
One day you will look at the clock and it is 1:00 pm and you realize you are still in your underwear. You may struggle for a moment to recall the day of the week or God forbid, the time of year. You are in California and can’t just look out the window. Hey, you’re retired.
Slowly your appearance will begin to change. I don’t mean to imply you will sit around in a torn t-shirt, eating Cheetos, drinking beer and watching golf on TV.
A stubble, perhaps? Why shave every day if you don’t have to? Moustache, beard, longer hair—you had to maintain your appearance for so long, take a break.
Behind the wheel you still read “plates” and look down alleys. Your wife says you drive like you are on patrol.
Eating out? Can’t sit with your back to the door.
You argue with the evening news.
While shopping, your wife deposits you in a good spot for people watching.
Then came that one chance comment that put everything in perspective.
We were at a large social function and a lot of mutual introductions are going on.
I usually defer to my wife. She says my name and “retired.”
A very sharp middle-aged woman I had been speaking to interrupted and said, “You don’t have to tell us what he retired from. He’s got cop eyes.”
And some things never change.