Let me explain.
In the summer of 1983, a few days before my 19th birthday, I was offered a job. A good job, quite attractive to my way of thinking, and I was anxious to take it. The offer required that I call the company’s Human Resources Department to formally agree to the position. This all seemed very straightforward, so I called the number provided. But no one answered. I tried numerous times that day, all with the same result. As my anxiety grew, I tried again the next morning, but still, no success. That afternoon, determined, I dialed once more, letting the phone ring endlessly. While I stood there, receiver in hand, suddenly, surprisingly, a voice was heard on the other end of the line!
Now then, before I relate what was said in the resulting phone conversation, I must insist that we take a brief detour into the field of human psychology. We will get back to the thrilling conclusion of that phone call momentarily, I assure you. This will be just a short scientific observation, nothing to it really.
Behavioral psychologists have long known about but only rarely studied a fascinating phenomenon that can transpire when the expected actually occurs. (Yes, you read that right.) The condition presents as a recognizable collection of symptoms that an individual experiences over a short period of time (usually 30-90 seconds) when triggered by the occurrence of a completely foreseeable discrete event. Most of the academic literature on the phenomenon is quite dated and, unfortunately, now exists only in the original German. However, loosely translated, the condition is commonly known as Expected Surprise Stupor Syndrome (ESSS). It is believed to be universally common to all creatures that possess self-awareness, including most humans.
The theory behind ESSS is simple: when an individual believes that a desired future outcome is almost certain to occur, the actual occurrence of that outcome can inexplicably shock the individual into a near-catatonic stupor. Even more paradoxically, the effects appear to be compounded when the individual has been actively taking steps to bring about the desired outcome. The physiological symptoms associated with ESSS can vary but typically include muteness or uncontrollable stammering, a short-circuit of all neural connections in the brain, and the inability to arrange one’s limbs in a way that even remotely approximates a natural human pose.
Although scientists only started scientifically describing this behavior in the mid-1930s, many anecdotal descriptions date back to antiquity. Surely you remember the story of Jesus’s arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane when the Roman soldiers fell to the ground en masse? Or how about old Zechariah – hoping and praying for a child all those years, only to go mute when he learns he will soon become a father?
Or how about you - have you ever experienced ESSS? Come now, there is no shame in admitting it. Of course you have. Remember that day after school in 7th grade, when the rest of the kids had already gone outside to the buses, while you lingered in the hallway outside your History of Ancient Civilizations classroom? There you met your secret junior high crush, face-to-face, alone at last. Hers was a beauty that rivaled Cleopatra’s, all French-braided and freckled, a vision in argyle, and the brilliance of her smile laid waste to reason. And you? You stood there with your mouth full of teeth. So yes, ESSS happens.
But enough of this psychological stravaging about. I promised you we’d get back to that phone call with Human Resources. Back to 1983, the job offer, the anxious teen, the incessant ringing of the phone, and the voice that finally answers. Here now the transcript from that fateful day:
HR: Human Resources.
Me: (surprised) Hello?
HR: (pause) Yes?
Me: (halting) Um…
hi. Um… this is David Van Dyk.
HR: (long pause) Yes?
Me: (stammering)
Um… yes, well… um, about that job offer… um, well, I… (long pause) I say
yes to that.
HR: You mean you accept?
Me: Yes! That’s it!
Sheesh. I say yes
to that. Mortifying.
So why bring it up again now? Well, because that job I accepted all those many
years ago has finally come to an end. I
retired yesterday. Which brings us to
today and the 67-page PowerPoint briefing I am holding in my now idle
hands. The title page of that briefing
reads as follows:
I must say, despite its many typos, the briefing is a goldmine of practical advice for the newly retired. One suggestion (Tip #46) I find particularly resonant: “Don’t say yes to any new opportunities in the first 6 months of retirement.” I think I can avoid saying yes for that long.
The briefing also strongly emphasizes the importance of all retirees having a documented Retirement Plan. The briefing’s author even goes so far as to
quote the following Maxim of the Ancients (although it is unclear to which
particular Ancient they refer):
Purpose expresses itself in Plan
Plan expresses itself in Word
Never one to quibble with the ancients, I humbly offer up
this blog series as a vehicle for discovering and documenting a personalized, purpose-driven retirement plan. In
future blog posts, we’ll plumb the depths of retirement knowledge revealed to
us in PowerPoint as we formulate a comprehensive plan that will be the
envy of our pickleball-playing peers.
Next time we’ll drill into Tip #17: “Retirement is not a Vacation”.
Fair warning: this blog series
will neither be the straightest nor shortest path to knowledge. You can find hundreds of thousands of other Internet
sites that provide much more retirement advice in far fewer words. But I ask you, how many of those sites take
the time to explain Expected Surprise Stupor Syndrome? Precious few, I’m afraid. Ours will not be the way of the interstate,
but rather the winding country lane, as we stop at the many roadside
attractions and beef jerky stands that brighten the journey along life’s highway of learning.
As I close this introductory post, I can already hear your
objection: “All this talk about retirement plans is fine, but what are you
actually going to do tomorrow?” I’ll admit that I'm not entirely certain. I might pop
through a chalk pavement picture and go for an outing in the country. Or I
might seize a horse off a merry-go-round and win the derby. Or I might just fly
a kite. Only Poppins would know.
David
5/13/25
PostScript. Although
it is clearly time for me to retire, there are some things about my job that I
will dearly miss. The people, of course
- it’s obligatory to say it, but that doesn’t make it any less true. I will also miss going out to lunch. There’s nothing better than fast food and
slow conversation under the warm California sun. So if you're ever in the area and looking for someone to join
you on the patio outside your favorite lunchtime haunt, please give me a call. Seriously.
I will say yes to that.
Comments