SPECIAL POST: Behind the Scenes at Fourth Quarter

G'day. Today is a momentous day as this marks the 100th post for this blog. What began as a rather tenuous stab at figuring out how to post on August 4th has grown into one of the most fun and addictive things I have ever done.

I think of the blog as an online diary of what goes on in my life from "when I retire until I expire" (I like rhymes, as you can see). Using the biblical four score as a standard age, I named it Fourth Quarter, or 4Q for short. I never anticipated being widely read, but I must be because almost every day when I drive around Sydney someone yells "4Q!" at me. It's funny how I had to retire to become popular.

A few of you - OK, one of you - asked what happens to the blog if I make it past 80. Well that is pretty obvious to me. I will just rename it Extra Time, and of course it will only end in sudden death.

Part of the problem with doing a blog about what happens when you are retired is that some days not much happens. I don't know about you, but even I have my doubts about how much more I can milk this walking bit. Already LK is suggesting that there needs to be a firm limit on how many times I mention her. And even if I put on my biggest creativity hat, I cannot think of a way to be interesting to write about falling asleep after lunch.

In fact, a few things happened this week that make me wonder if retirement is going to end up being one very slow, walker-assisted descent into low self esteem. Three examples will suffice:

1. I write about how I tackled this great project and cleaned the junk out of the garage. Within an hour my friend Robert had written and showed how his latest retirement project involved putting in a new floor for their bedroom. He even included pictures and made a special note of the power tools he used. Which we all know he was doing just to rub my clumsy nose in it.

2. About a week after I wrote about my, shall we say, mediocre results at online poker, one of the kids who used to work for me has quit the company in order to become a full-time, professional poker player. He's made this decision because he has been doing so well lately. I wish him well - even though I think I hate him.

3. I write about a n easy visit to an electronics store, and the only comment I get back is from Davy suggesting that the real test is whether I have the same good fortune at - where else - a hardware store. I am detecting a theme. And it seems to have a lot to do with what some of you see as my shortcomings.

But enough of me. No, actually, this is about me. So let's finish with more about me.

Some writers would have you believe they are inspired gasbags who write because their muse makes them. But I am quite a few steps further down the artiste ladder. For example, one of my largest motivations in starting this was that I wanted the folks at my old company to say to themselves, "Damn. He wasn't as dull and removed as we all thought he was. I wish I had known him better before he retired."

OK. It doesn't seem to have happened, but at least it gave me a reason to put fingers to keyboard. And, come to think of it, a couple of times people at the company have been yelling "4Q!" at me when I drop LK off at work.