$$A

The first wages of old age were deposited in my bank account this week after a brief delay, owing to an error on my part (senior moment, diminished eyesight?). The monthly stipend approximates my monthly expenditures averaged out over the year, at least as they stand now. Barring catastrophe of various stripes, I should be reasonably comfortable for the foreseeable future, as comfortable as I am now. Barring catastrophe, that is, which lurks in the shadows of our collective future but befalls individuals pretty much singly and without mercy—and sometimes remedy.

The numbers behind one’s Social Security allocation fascinate me, who has never attended much to money beyond the rudiments of making sure I had enough to pay the bills. Good to know that someone is keeping track of things in a larger way. SSA tallies that over my lifetime, I’ve earned $1.5 million, a staggering amount to me in its totality, but parceled out over many years, a pretty average annual salary in the U.S., and only about half of what the generic Ph.D. has been estimated to earn. I don’t complain. Mine’s in the humanities, which is its own reward, its own return on investment, priceless actually. 

 

I observe that the taxes paid into the system by me and my employers would seem to only cover about the next eight years of benefits. Assuming I live longer, this calculation represents, of course, the primary problem for the long-term solvency of the system. I don’t propose any specific measures to address this impending margin call. As a Late Boomer I sympathize with the younger generations in their fears and resentment of Boomer economic and environmental excesses, but I trust this looming deficit will be equitably addressed. If not and forced to return to work in my 70s, I will at least have had a significant sabbatical. As for the emotional costs of supporting us geriatrics, I am reminded that my own generation’s efforts subsidized the retirements of The Greatest Generation and their Silent offspring—my father’s, for example, a retirement of unlimited golf, shrimp scampi, and Fox Lies. Their later achievements (Vietnam, Ronald Reagan, the Iraq War) did not inspire affection. We protested, rolled our eyes, and paid. They were old, and now am I.