As an addendum to yesterday’s blog about babies and funerals in the Philippines, I spent the afternoon on the phone with the friendly people at Social Security. Since I am turning 62 this week, even though I will not yet avail myself of my Social Security retirement benefit, it reminded me that I had a couple questions.

I’d called Social Security once before and in both cases found the help I received excellent, especially considering it came from US government workers, generally considered about as friendly as Kim Jong Un after watching “The Interview.”

The previous time I spoke to a very nice woman, but this time it was a guy and somehow I can speak a little bit differently to a guy.

I asked him several fun questions, like what my 15 year old might receive if I die, and how I could keep her from just pissing it away at the mall.

Finally I said, “I am remarried to someone a bit younger and she wants a baby and I want to understand my options.” The man on the other end of the line starts giggling. I start cracking up also.

He said, “You’re a lucky man.”

“You have no idea,” I replied.

He continued, “I’m about to turn 50. My partner’s 61.”
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“So you’ve done the opposite of me,” I said. “Good for you. It takes all kinds.”

“You’re a lucky man,” he repeated. By now we were laughing our asses off.

“Let’s just say that when I hit the milestone birthday I am about to celebrate my age will be the exact opposite of my wife’s.”

“Damn, you’re a lucky man!”

Later, when I related the story, Janet told me that I was just bragging and I suppose she’s right. But I got to figure that most people call Social Security out of sadness, desperation and with tales of woe. Me? I cracked the guy up. I thanked him for his help and agreed that in retirement I will be very very lucky.