I have been to a Social Security office only twice in my life

At 15 getting a work permit and a social security number, and today filing for my early retirement benefits starting in January. In January 2012, I thought I had less than 6 months to live. In three months it will be two years. I remember my friend and I getting our work permits. We worked as busboy/dishwashers at the country club. It was an exciting time in life because in the evenings on weekends they had a disco and the hottest women for fifty miles around would come there and strut their stuff......very heady experience for a 15 year old boy at 1 am to be watching the behavior of girls intoxicated who are only a few years older.....many a night walking across the golf course home, I would find the grounds being utilized by those same girls........sadly my friend died in a VW bug accident three years later, and today I have thought about how spectacular and uncertain life is. He was a good friend.....and he was simply gone overnight in the prime of his youth, and here I am struggling with terminal illness and I have never been happier in my life, and certainly did not expect to be alive today. So the time between my visits to the Social Security office were like a blink of the eye, but there is one thing for certain..........I take nothing for granted and feel blessed for every moment.

I take nothing for granted and feel blessed for every moment.

Ya got it!!! Me too........................

I had been working since I was thirteen. I would caddy and I would shag balls for the pro when he would give lessons. I have told this story before, but back then I would take a bowling ball bag full of golf balls and dump them on the ground where the pro would instruct a student. I would field the balls(shag) and put them in the bowling bag and then return the bag to the pro. I was paid by the student. The women always gave me good tips. The men were usually cheap, but it was just the opposite when I would caddy. Men would show off to their peers on how much they would tip the caddy, and women would chat among themselves and give really low dollars.

It was a big promotion when I was asked to become a bus boy. I started at one dollar an hour, and although under my work permit my hours were restricted, I worked 60 hours a week. I was as strong as a bull and could carry two cases of beer from the downstairs coolers to restock the various bars all day long, and I did double the work of others. After three months I boldly walked in and asked the owner for a raise, and he gave it to me immediately.....I remember my friend and others trying the same thing and he said no. A $1.25 an hour when you were working 60 hours a week was like a gold mine for a kid in the summer of 1967. I remember looking at the deductions on my paycheck. I wondered what life had before me and if I would ever collect social security. Time flies when you are having fun.

I still make too much for disability which would restrict my work. I am only working 20% of my hours, but that income far exceeds what I would get paid in disability. With early retirement, my wife will draw a check out of the business like she always has, and my check will be smaller. I will have a stream of unearned income off leases from the business which are not considered income for social security.