Retirement was supposed to be peaceful. Instead, it turned into a running argument with self-checkout machines, a possessed snowblower, and a body that keeps updating without permission. In this sharp, laugh-out-loud collection of essays, a 66-year-old Midwestern retiree wrestles with modern life, brutal winters, technology that doesn’t trust him, and the quiet indignities of aging. From losing an iPhone in a lake to negotiating with passwords that require punctuation diplomacy, from pickleball injuries to the unsettling discovery of a full-blown comb-over, nothing escapes his dry, self-aware humor. But beneath the jokes is something steadier. Reflections on childhood boredom that built resilience. Friendships that thinned but deepened. Dogs that taught loyalty. The humbling realization that time moves faster than we think. This is retirement humor with heart. A Midwestern snapshot of getting older without getting bitter. A reminder that sometimes the best response to a bewildering world is to lean back, sip something amber, and say, “Huh.” If you like your reflections earned, your winters survived, and your coffee black (no sissy lid), pull up a chair. He’ll wave first.