WELCOME: You’ve found the blog for Tim Woodward’s retirement-is-overrated columns. They appear in The Idaho Statesman’s Life section every other Sunday and are posted here the following Mondays.
EXTRAS: Additional, “extra” posts are made here when timely, meaning when something happens that Tim can’t resist writing about right away. Subscribers will receive e-mails notifying them of extra postings.
SUBSCRIBE FOR FREE: To subscribe to http://www.woodwardblog.com, click on the tab to the right and follow the directions. It’s easy, takes seconds and it’s free. If you miss a column in The Statesman, you can catch it here. Columns are archived on the blog so you can find old favorites or those you missed regardless of when they first appeared — in addition to getting the extras.
CONTACT: To contact Tim, e-mail him at woodwardcolumn@hotmail.com. E-mails from readers will be answered promptly, and e-mail suggestions for column subjects are always appreciated. Please do not send requests to speak to a group, emcee an event or read a manuscript.
Thanks, and welcome.
Tim Woodward 
So proud to be reading you on the www! Good luck with your new blog and thank you for continuing to share your beautiful stories with all of us. Love you, dad! -Andie
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Dear Tim,
Thrilled to read your column this morning – what a great way to start my day. I know my folks will be thrilled as well! Welcome back, and happy for you it’s “retirement” scaled. Ha!
Thank You! Thank You! Thank You!
Lori and Mike
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Welcome back, Mr. Woodward!
Like thousands of others, I read your article in today’s Sunday Life section of The Idaho Statesman, and was happy to see that you are returning to regale us in writing with your adventures through life. Some thoughts on your short trip into retirement follow.
First, your comment on Saturdays is spot on. Yes, I too am retired and have been for several years. The years following productive work went so darn fast that I now find it difficult to count them up. Secondly, on the subject of loafing, your “up to a point” remark is reminiscent of what I have come to call, The Light-switch Syndrome. For years, you were a bright light in the working world. Suddenly, someone turned off a light switch and you ceased to be; not physically, but in that nether world where things happen; where people actually make the world turn.
Yes, you were busy soon after retirement. That first year or two of retirement has caused many to say, “I’m so busy in retirement that I don’t know where I found the time to hold a job,” or words to that effect. You were just about to take that first step into the arena where the light-switch syndrome rules, but you backed out to return to the fun world—the world of relevance. That’s what happens, you know. Many of us, who have retired, especially those who previously lead commanding and exciting working positions, suddenly get the feeling that we are no longer relevant to the outside world. And in truth, we’re not. It’s not personal; it’s just that the rest of the working world is too busy to make you feel needed or necessary. Oh, working for charities is important too, but it doesn’t make your world go-round the way it used to. It’s just not the same. After all, that’s where the term “has been” comes from, which is okay if you’re dead and people are remembering your many accomplishments in life—but it’s not so good while you’re still living. Nobody in life wants to be known as a “has been.”
You might be surprised to learn that I was looking forward to your retirement from the Statesman. I had hoped that in retirement, you might join one of the dozen or more writer’s groups here in the Treasure Valley; to share the writing wisdom you have collected over the years, and to let us get to know you on a more personal basis. I’m not talking about formal classroom sessions or conferences as a celebrity to the great unwashed. Rather I mean as an experienced writer of some eminence to sit down and help other writers find a way to highlight their work.
Yes, welcome back, Mr. Woodward. May your days be filled with joy as your writing continues to bring us light and laughter.
John J. Cline
(The Boise Author)
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Thanks for an early birthday present. :)
Tim, it has been a pleasure reading your column which I’ve only recently started reading. It’s kind of funny because I was born and raised in Boise. I even delivered The Statesman for a few years. Reading your column feels like I found 40 years of stashed letters from a friend. I guess time travel is possible.
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Spooky coincidence. On June 1, I had written the story about Perry And The Concert to Michael McGrane, Director, Air St. Luke’s. This because the Nat’l guard had serenaded my house, which is close to St. Luke’s rooftop helicopter pad, with helicopter music for forty minutes in the middle of the night. I told him I had contemplated the Perry Maneuver. Somehow Perry got away with it but I suppose I would not have fared so well if I had gotten out of bed and, still in my pajamas, carried an ax up St. Luke’s elevator to the top, hoping to smash the guard’s danged helicopter.
And now Perry is gone. I guess he couldn’t get away with EVERYTHING. Me neither.
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Hi Tim: I just finished reading your column in the Sunday paper, August 30th. I wanted to write because I too had memory issues that came out of the blue and were never really pinned down. I had “episodes” where I would just sort of blank out but still be functional, and then would sleep for about four hours. They diagnosed it as seizures, but could never find it on an EMG. My memory definitely was affected and it caused enough trouble that I was let go from my job at St. Luke’s after 15 years with them.
I was put on disability and five years later my family and friends have adjusted to the “new” me with patience and love (most of the time).
I have a new “normal” now and am just grateful that my mind is still hanging in there and most of the time I function pretty well.
Always enjoy your column.
Sincerely, Diane
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Sorry to hear that, Diane. Your memory problems make mine seem small, at least unless my pending MRI discloses something more serious than TGA. Fifty years ago is no problem, but remembering ten minutes ago can be.
Glad you’ve learned to cope with the new normal,
Tim
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