You Ready for Retirement? (I don’t mean from sex, dude.)
I think it’s delusional for people with kids, straight or gay, to think that their adult children will automatically, positively be there for them in their old age. (I’ve seen otherwise too many times.) But one thing for sure about us gay men. Unless you have a life partner or sugar daddy better off than you who leaves you his $$, very, very devoted friends, a super-caring sibling without his or her own family responsibilities, or millionaire parents who will leave you everything, baby, the only one who’s going to care about you if you live that long is you.
That’s why, when I hear twenty-somethings, thirty somethings or forty somethings chatter on at the gym or in a bar or on the beach or on their website profiles about the next international Fuckfest they’ve got lined up, sandwiched in between two others, I’m tempted to ask two questions: you making a six figure salary or, if not, have you thought about tomorrow?
Listen, I’ve pissed a lot of $$$ away in my day, have done my share of domestic and international traveling, and bought the clothes and tech toys, etc., etc., etc. But, you also have to prepare for a rainy day, whether that be no job or, shudder the thought, old age. I know some guys now in their sixties who tell me they’ll be getting five or six hundred dollars a month from Social Security when they retire, and they’ve got nothing put away. Huh? You can’t even live on Walmart Rob Roy dog food with that.
Granted, Social Security quarters, 401K’s, real estate, and IRA CD’s may not be the most erotic subjects on the planet but, no matter where you are job wise, Gaymart clerk or corporate lawyer, just sit on this:
Eons into the future, when you’re old and gray, will you be able to afford the cruises and dinners and 2-for-1 drink specials and that once-a-month Hotspot guy for some fun? Or some hunk of a male nurse to wipe your leaky ass when eye candy is all you can enjoy?
Or will you be selling off your Star Trek memorabilia to eat?