Fade to Black

                                                                       Fade to Black

                                                                  by Marco M. Pardi

“Few men of action have been able to make a graceful exit at the appropriate time.” Malcolm Muggeridge. 1966

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A few weeks ago I had lunch with a former student who, at 25, has acquired significant medical credentials.  As we talked about her career options she went into great detail about Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF), commonly known as Doctors Without Borders. She is currently studying French and will no doubt master in it a few months.  I was very excited by her plans.  I simply don’t know anyone else who can deliver expert emergency medicine, dismantle, repair and reassemble a Jeep motor and transaxle in half the time and with more accuracy than a certified mechanic, and flawlessly play a variety of tunes, including original compositions, on any number of exotic stringed instruments.  

As we talked she turned the attention to me, and how I was dealing with retirement after a life which included several simultaneous careers.  As I explained then, and in subsequent emails, retirement was basically irrelevant to me.  I grew up in a family which lived quite nicely from extensive investment incomes; no one worked, unless you count trips to the various stock brokers as work.  So, I had no role models to show the way toward burying yourself in a career in hopes of one day attending a maudlin retirement party and withdrawing into the “What day is it?” syndrome.  No one assessed me and advised me toward some particular line of work; it seemed assumed I would grow up and leave. So, I did.  But on the way I came to realize my career was Being Me.  My schooling for that career was basically the learning of who I was and a search for whether there was any meaning to Being.      

Along the way I voluntarily entered the military and, in what I now see as being me, I volunteered for hazardous field operations, even turning down requests to serve in administrative “back office” capacities. I would never characterize these choices as patriotic; they were instead a means of living and expressing me.  And, they led to offers to more fully and permanently enter field operations.

Going from there into college I chose the discipline I did not for its financial potentials but for its opportunities to live as the person I am.  And, I continued the work I had begun in the military, my choice of academic discipline being a perfect match in college and graduate school.

Teaching that discipline in college, while continuing to apply it in the field, was a natural progression, not a force fit in search of a salary.  Eventually, I was offered a more focused field operations track and accepted it, leaving teaching until my return to the classroom toward the end of my interest in that focused track.  I very happily returned to teaching while keeping occasional field work as a means of expression. In any of my years teaching college Anthropology did I feel I was recruiting and training the next generation of Anthropologists? No.  In fact, when students expressed interest in majoring in Anthropology I always recommended a dual major. I pointed out that Anthropology is perhaps the broadest field in academia and is not just Indiana Jones adventure. I said it is an excellent supportive field to amplify a degree in something like International Relations, Communications, Marketing or any other field the student has the interest and the competence to pursue.  Likewise I more often than not dissuaded students from considering careers in Intelligence, the exceptions being the very few I felt were personally suited to what are usually the brutal facts of the game.  I presented the field of Public Health the same way. Sadly, my own health uncertainties eventually warranted my ethical decision to cease teaching.

But throughout all this I did not lose my sense of self.  I did not become a (fill in the blank) which, upon scaling back my activities left a huge blank spot needing to be filled.  I have not yet felt the need to seek out and join an association of retired whatevers. I was me, am still me and have no plans of retiring from being me.  My means of expression, such as writing this blog, have changed, but not my identity. In the same way I thoroughly enjoyed the personal discoveries I made through studying and teaching I have been enjoying the discoveries found through interaction with those who read and comment on this blog.  Of course, this site, from which I derive no income (in fact, I pay) has counters which enable me to see how may have read a particular piece.  And, those numbers always far exceed the few, to whom I am deeply grateful. who take the time to comment.  Indeed, the SPAM outruns the comments by about 100 to 1.  I’m also aware that there have likely been more than a few articles edited and turned in as “position papers” for college credit.  So it goes.

Fade to Black, a screenplay command for film crews, always appealed metaphorically to me.  Anyone who has slowly lost consciousness due to injuries will appreciate that image.  I suppose when that command finally appears in its ultimate form for me I may say, So, this is retirement.  No party needed and I won’t have any need for that gold watch.