Yesterday, I walked away from the building that has been the main stage of my professional life for the last two decades -- nearly a third of my life.
The leaving was easy. But it seemed to be a bit odd.
Odd enough that when I left my PDA and my Blackberry behind, I realized I had failed to make a paper copy of my calendar for the next two months. I have lunches and dinners scheduled between now and 15 April when I leave -- and no electronic shepherd to tell me where I am supposed to go, and when.
But this is a grand electronic age. I requested a .pst file of my contacts and calendar before I left. Using a trial version of Outlook, I now have a calendar. Thank you, Mr. Gates.
Yesterday was a busy work day. I was actually on a telephone conference with an attorney at 6 in the evening when the good IS people asked me when I was going to leave. They needed to get their Brutus duties done, and quietly commit my sign in code to its rightful peace.
Not surprisingly, the highlight of the day was the two-hour retirement shindig that my colleagues created on my behalf. I will get some photographs for later publication. But it was a great ceremony, with the usual buffed version of the retiree's life; followed by a very clever spoof of "The Raven -- renamed "The Maven;" a heart-felt roast by my boss; and a very nice presentation by our CEO.
It was also great to talk with a number of friends and dignitaries that I had not seen in years, including the former chief justice of our supreme court, and most of the members of the workers' compensation board.
But look at the swag at the top of this post. I could not think of a retirement gift. But I remember several of you telling me that quality pots and pans are hard to find in Mexico (going to pot). I now own an 11-piece set of Circulon pots and pans. What a deal!
And my friends always come up with a combination of valuable and gag gifts. I received a tile mosaic from an attorney friend who is exploring her artistic side. A manager gave me an "Algodón" plaque for the house. There is a $10 Mexico calling card for my mother. A bottle saying I want to return to my job that I merely need to drop in the sea. And a Hillary Clinton doll -- for who knows what purpose. Perhaps to discuss the drug issue.
The affection we share for one another at these events is something we need to bottle and spread out over our work careers. I literally felt cosseted in love.
But it is time to move on.
I was a bit surprised when I walked away from the building that I did not feel some regret. But I did what I have done with every transition. This part of my life goes into a box. The lid goes on. And I will keep it on the shelf.
Because a new segment begins today. I need to get the house into some semblance of shape for the house sitter -- and I will be on my way south.
And will I remember my colleagues?
You bet I will. Just as I will remember the friends I am about to make in Mexico.
The leaving was easy. But it seemed to be a bit odd.
Odd enough that when I left my PDA and my Blackberry behind, I realized I had failed to make a paper copy of my calendar for the next two months. I have lunches and dinners scheduled between now and 15 April when I leave -- and no electronic shepherd to tell me where I am supposed to go, and when.
But this is a grand electronic age. I requested a .pst file of my contacts and calendar before I left. Using a trial version of Outlook, I now have a calendar. Thank you, Mr. Gates.
Yesterday was a busy work day. I was actually on a telephone conference with an attorney at 6 in the evening when the good IS people asked me when I was going to leave. They needed to get their Brutus duties done, and quietly commit my sign in code to its rightful peace.
Not surprisingly, the highlight of the day was the two-hour retirement shindig that my colleagues created on my behalf. I will get some photographs for later publication. But it was a great ceremony, with the usual buffed version of the retiree's life; followed by a very clever spoof of "The Raven -- renamed "The Maven;" a heart-felt roast by my boss; and a very nice presentation by our CEO.
It was also great to talk with a number of friends and dignitaries that I had not seen in years, including the former chief justice of our supreme court, and most of the members of the workers' compensation board.
But look at the swag at the top of this post. I could not think of a retirement gift. But I remember several of you telling me that quality pots and pans are hard to find in Mexico (going to pot). I now own an 11-piece set of Circulon pots and pans. What a deal!
And my friends always come up with a combination of valuable and gag gifts. I received a tile mosaic from an attorney friend who is exploring her artistic side. A manager gave me an "Algodón" plaque for the house. There is a $10 Mexico calling card for my mother. A bottle saying I want to return to my job that I merely need to drop in the sea. And a Hillary Clinton doll -- for who knows what purpose. Perhaps to discuss the drug issue.
The affection we share for one another at these events is something we need to bottle and spread out over our work careers. I literally felt cosseted in love.
But it is time to move on.
I was a bit surprised when I walked away from the building that I did not feel some regret. But I did what I have done with every transition. This part of my life goes into a box. The lid goes on. And I will keep it on the shelf.
Because a new segment begins today. I need to get the house into some semblance of shape for the house sitter -- and I will be on my way south.
And will I remember my colleagues?
You bet I will. Just as I will remember the friends I am about to make in Mexico.
