Summary

A municipal servant reflects on the past thirty years of his career, contemplating the next four years until he can potentially retire with a defined-benefit pension, despite personal and professional challenges.

Abstract

The author, a seasoned municipal worker with three decades of experience, shares his thoughts on the prospect of retiring in four years. Starting as a probation officer in 1993, he has endured the stresses of public service, including working with high-risk individuals and navigating the pressures of economic development. Despite contributions to a well-funded pension plan, the author acknowledges that various factors, including financial responsibilities and health insurance considerations, may extend his tenure beyond the anticipated retirement age. He contrasts his early career, marked by working with troubled individuals, with his later years spent collaborating with wealthy capitalists, emphasizing the diverse nature of his public service journey.

Opinions

The author expresses a sense of pride in contributing to a competently-run pension fund, distinguishing it from the financially troubled state pension system.
There is a clear frustration with the never-ending demands of economic development, where achievements are quickly overshadowed by new expectations.
The author values work-life balance and personal well-being over higher salary opportunities, as evidenced by his decision to stay with his current employer rather than accepting a higher-paying "dream job."
He is critical of newly-elected officials who overestimate their understanding of economic development and frequently introduce changes that may be short-lived.
The author is uncertain about the future, recognizing that many "IFs" will determine whether he can retire in four years, but he remains hopeful and open to the possibilities that life may bring.

Four More Years!

A lot can change between now and then

You have undoubtedly heard some politician and/or his or her followers shouting “Four More Years!” upon gaining reelection.

I, too, have been contemplating four more years, but in my case, it pertains to a rough approximation of how much more time I plan to put into municipal servitude.

You see, it began a long effing time ago before some of you were even a twinkle in your parents’ eyes. 1993 to be exact when I embarked on a position that you would wish upon your worst enemy — I toiled as a probation officer at a hellhole known as 26th & California on the south side of one of the most violent, corrupt, and poorly-run cities on this planet.

I Was a Young Probation Officer

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Elementary math will tell you that was thirty long years ago when I made my first contribution to a pension fund. One that I still contribute to today.

As a long-time investor and someone with a keen interest in personal finance, I sometimes feel like an outlier when it comes to writing about the topic insofar as I have contributed to something that fewer of us have: a defined-benefit pension, not a defined contribution plan.

Despite whatever you think or know about Illinois, and most of it probably is not so great, the pension system that I contribute to is not the broke-ass state one. You could not trust this Land of Lincoln with a nickel, let alone billions of dollars worth of pension funds.

IMRF, on the other hand, is a competently-run, well-funded plan that is among the best in the entire country.

Snip from the IMRF spring/summer 2023 newsletter.

But the point of this is not to extol upon the virtues of this fund. Between the public sector jobs that I have had, I have endured and still do a very high level of stress almost daily.

Trying to please the Powers that Be in the city that has employed me for the past eighteen years is no easy task. Attract a new microbrewery, someone wants to know when the next one is coming. Fill a million square feet of industrial space and the next day I am reminded of a half-vacant 50,000 SF building. Nothing is ever good enough, but I get it. An economic development professional never wants to truly “complete” the development of the town.

Then what would I do?

Over four years ago, I naively thought I could pull the municipal plug right upon turning fifty-five. After all, that is the minimum age required for one in our system to begin collecting a pension.

14.3%

If you’re a numbers person like I am, you will instantaneously see what the percentage of 14.3% is.

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One thing that I did get correct was that every year of the seven, I would become one-seventh, or 14.3% more confident, speaking my mind and giving that much less of a fuck.

But that was written pre-pandemic in the before times. My family has also come upon some extreme hardships that, of course, cost a lot of money and also require ongoing insurance. The fact that my employer pays about eighty percent of the $2,600 or so that our monthly insurance nut costs even for the shitty HMO that we have is something that will definitely keep me in the workforce for years to come.

So why reference four more years?

Easy.

Come June 1st, I now have thirty — yes THIRTY — years in the system. I began my journey as a young probation officer in the spring of 1993 as a twenty-two-year-old and am now in my twenty-third year of serving as an economic development official, eighteen years for my current city. The one that I elected to remain with after turning down what had been my “dream job” for over twelve years.

I made the choice to value my life over money. More time off over earning about $15,000 more. Dressing casually most days instead of wearing suits while attending more frequent high-powered meetings. Scrambling for ways to earn income post-government versus having multiple consulting firms bidding for my services.

There are many IFs that go into whether or not this actually transpires four years from now. I will not get into them in too much detail but will answer if anyone asks in the comments.

The gist of it is that there are many days when I wish that I no longer had to toil for The Man. I have spent far too many hours on nice days and at night sitting in meetings in various government buildings.

I have tried to please far too many newly-elected officials who believe that they know more about economic development than I do simply because they got a few hundred more votes than some other schmuck.

I have had to implement too many “new marketing plans” and new ways of doing things that some other fool will undo the minute they are elected.

From working with junkie transvestites with AIDS, gangbangers, molesters, drug dealers, and robbers in my twenties to regularly meeting with multimillionaires and even two billionaire capitalists through the past few years, my “public service” tenure has been varied. You could not map it out or advise anyone else to follow my meandering career path albeit one that has steadied over the past two decades.

So if I remain among the living, if I remain gainfully employed, if I can maintain my health and sanity for four more years, if many other things fall into place, then at the age of fifty-six-and-a-half after what would be thirty-four long years of local government employment, I just may be able to pull something off.

But I am certainly not counting on it.

One last IF — if I am still around and writing on Medium, I will strive to remember to reference this story. Only God knows what will happen between now and then, and even She probably doesn’t!