“You got to help me
I can't do it all by myself
You got to help me, baby
I can't do it all by myself
You know if you don't help me darling
I'll have to find myself somebody else”

Help Me

Sonny Boy Williamson II

It was snowing out and barely 3:30 in the bloody AM

When the snowplow awoke me from my peaceful snooze

As I slowly opened my eyes and squinted at the clock

I knew today would bring those damned retirement blues

At 4:30 AM I was still lying in bed very wide awake

When my two dogs began seriously pestering me

Since they obviously knew I couldn’t fall back asleep

They had decided it would be a mighty fine time to pee

So I wearily dressed and bundled myself up real tight

As my two mutts romped and played out in the snow

I clumsily slipped out on the dark icy back steps

And realized that I had now bloodied my nose

Finally at 5 AM after stopping the giant nose bleed

I exhaustedly crawled back into my cozy warm bed

That’s when the telephone began ringing off the hook

And my tired old body would now soon fill with dread

Rebecca’s principals and teachers were frantically calling

In hopes that she would quickly declare a ‘Snow Day’

I had to sit there listening to her explaining to all of them

That 10 inches of snow did not mean that they could play

I also soon painfully realized what I would now have to do

I got up again and shoveled the driveway so she could go to work

As the deep snow and frigid ice wreaked havoc on my aching back

I decided that retirement must truly be meant for idiotic old jerks

At 7:30 AM my wife finally drove off for the day

And I retreated to my couch for a much deserved nap

I had just about begun a very pleasant little snore

When at my door I heard an urgent ‘Tap, Tap, Tap’

It was one of our elderly neighbor ladies a few doors down

“I was wondering if you could shovel my driveway, too.

I am just about all out of groceries, my dear man,

And, Lordy, I really don’t know what I’m gonna do!”

By 9 AM I had finished this second shoveling chore

And I had just eased my aching back into an overstuffed chair

When lo and behold that damn phone started ringing again

I let it ring for quite awhile before I picked it up I swear

“Edward, it’s your dear old mother,

I really hope you’re not busy right now;

I left my car out on the street last night,

And it was buried by a huge snow plow.”

As I sullenly drove off into the big city

Fighting the icy roads and my mounting ire

I kept shaking my miserable head in disbelief

And wondering just why the hell I had retired

By Noon I had finally dug out my mother’s car

And I was truly ready to head back home to my bed

That’s when she gave me that look I knew far too well

And for the second time my mind soon filled with dread

“I really hope you’re not that tuckered out yet,

Because if you remember today is the Epiphany,

And I’m sure you recall our beloved old tradition,

That today you must take down my Christmas tree!”

By 3:30 PM I had finally finished boxing up all her ornaments

And as I was stuffing everything back into her musty old attic

I finally very painfully and very mournfully realized

That retirement was truly life’s most vile dirty little trick

If I had not retired I could have relaxed today

After a hearty lunch and a few glasses of booze

And right this very minute in my cozy little office

I could have been taking my daily afternoon snooze

At 5 PM I finally pulled back into my own driveway

And would you believe it had once again begun to snow

As I looked at my two mutts eagerly awaiting another frigid walk

I screamed out at the top of my lungs, “Retirement Really Blows!”

It was snowing out and barely 3:30 in the bloody AM

When the snowplow awoke me from my peaceful snooze

As I slowly opened my eyes and squinted at the clock

I knew today would bring those damned retirement blues

©2005, Eddie ‘Tuckered Out’ Kostro