There is a small humiliation in having the answer and no socially acceptable place to put it.
I do not mean the great answers. I mean the modest, practical answers. The obvious ones. The ones you can see because you spent decades making things work when the weather, the crew, the customer, the port, the office, or the machinery had other ideas.
There is a junction near the harbour I could fix with a beer mat and a pen.
This is not boasting. It is worse than boasting. It is being correct in private, which is one of retirement's least attractive hobbies.
Nobody has asked. Nobody is going to ask. I have accepted this with the calm dignity of a man who has redesigned the traffic flow in his head about fourteen times while waiting at the lights.
The danger is not the junction. The danger is what happens inside you when the world stops requesting your usefulness.
The mind remains in the room.
That is the tea-spitting line, really. The skill does not retire just because the calendar says so.
The full article is here:
https://theoldgreythinker.substack.com/p/i-know-exactly-how-to-fix-this-nobody-53c?r=5dz1gi&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true
