Everyone is familiar with the expression ‘herding cats’. That’s what it’s like trying to organize a lunch with several of my retired boomer friends. Organizing and coordinating the G7 leaders’ convention would be easier. Noah had less trouble rounding up two of every living animal for a Mediterranean cruise than I’ve had in trying to set up a boomer lunch date. On one hand, it’s frustrating that no one can find time to squeeze in a couple of hours for lunch, but on the other hand, it’s lovely that everyone is so busy and thoroughly enjoying retirement life.

When someone asks me to join them for lunch I am happy to say Just tell me where and when and I’ll be there. When I originally sent out a query email I was planning a tentative lunch about six weeks away which I thought would be lots of advance notice, but it was not. Obviously, I have no life, or at the very least I’m not living as active a life as my friends are. Some of the conflicting plans I’ve heard over the years included:

• Thanks, but we’ll be on a two-week cruise
• It’s my poker/euchre/bridge day
• That’s our pickleball/lawn-bowling/line-dancing day
• I’m starting new art classes that day
• We have relatives visiting that week
• I’ll be on a yoga retreat
• Probably, but we may have to leave early as we have a 2:00 p.m. tee-off time
• I’m babysitting the grandkids that week
• and the ever-reliable, we’re not sure yet—which is a euphemism for something better might come up.

Years ago when I was still working in the corporate world, coordinating boring business meetings and weekend retreats for busy executives and business associates was not as fraught with schedule conflicts as trying to pin my retired boomer friends down to a firm lunch date. Maybe my old business friends were happy to use the opportunity to zone out for an hour or two while scrolling on their phones. When our group of boomer friends get together the appearance of phones is strongly discouraged, unless your partner is on life-support.

The thing is, we figured lunches were preferable to dinners because we had more flexibility in terms of restaurants being available and able to accommodate us without waiting an hour or more for our table to open up. No lineups. Seniors are also known for being a tad frugal so lunches are more affordable and truth be told, most of us do not like to drive after dark. We’ve grown tired of entertaining at home because of the work involved so lunch out seemed like the perfect solution.

Retirement was supposed to mean more free time to be with friends and family but it doesn’t always work out that way. While this is true to some degree, we’ve filled that time with enjoyable hobbies and pastimes. We’re playing tennis and pickleball, taking classes, reading, writing, creating artwork, volunteering, hiking, riding our bikes, travelling, and grabbing every opportunity we can for new experiences and adventures before we are confined to the home. We’re maxing out our retirement benefits and that is absolutely a positive thing.

Just as I was beginning to dispair of ever having a boomers’ lunch again, my friend Gail called on Friday morning and asked if I would like to have lunch that day – two hours later!! No one else. Just the two of us. No complications. No coordinating others’ schedules. Abso-freekin’-lutely! So, we did and it was marvelous.

When I depart this troubled old world I may not be in a position to give much advance notice. I hope that doesn’t deter my friends from unilaterally coming together at my Celebration of Life. It will be short notice but you can feast on a lunch buffet that will include free booze which I know will generate a significant outpouring of mourners. That should encourage my friends to skip your tee-off time just this once.  The fact that my estate will be covering the costs will hopefully increase the turnout, which gives me a degree of comfort. I’ll be watching from my Laz-Z-Girl in the clouds to see if the lunch I could not arrange in this life will finally come together successfully when I’m reduced to ashes and observing from the afterlife. I would consider my demise a success. Can I count you in?