By Scott Sullivan
Editor
We’re No. 119
Great news! The latest clickbait poll — this by Careerminds — ranks Saugatuck No. 119 among U.S. spots to micro-retire, i.e. take timeout before you burnout.
Tell the boss to shove it, grab your foam rubber fingers to wave in the faces of lower performers and celebrate.
Careerminds asked 3,007 workers (random or curated) where they’d most like to micro-retire (take time out before you burn out, meaning you’ll come back to pay for it later), most said quiet retreats in Hawaii, Florida and California.
Traverse City headed the list for Michigan at 89th, just edging Naperville, Ill. Next came Petoskey at 101st, then Saugatuck three spots below Broken Bow, Okla.
“Saugatuck’s creative heart, beach-town feel and scenic dunes,” reads the website’s blurb, “make it a perfect haven for micro-retirees. Exploring galleries at the Saugatuck Center for the Arts, hiking Saugatuck Dunes State Park and relaxing by Oval Beach define a life of coastal ease and inspiration.”
This boilerplate overlooks many attractions including the Sand Bar,but never mind.
The Saugatuck-Douglas Area Convention & Visitors Bureau keeps tabs on such accolades, but one critic feels they are missing the boast.
“For Chrissake,” he says, “we have a new Pope from here.” He’s right: Pope Leo XIV, formerly Robert Prevost, went to high school from 1969 to ’73 at what today is the Felt Mansion. He even won a bowling trophy at Douglas’s Lakeview Lanes, which we ran a picture last week to prove it.
“The CVB oughtta hop on this,” our reader/critic says. “Host Catholic pilgrimages. Disciples can stop at Dairy Dayz for a Pope-sicle, bowl a few frames at Lakeview when they reopen, tour the Felt, make a micro-retirement out it. They’ll come away renewed.”
I suggested the Sand Bar as host for the eucharist, but “It’s the Saugatuck-Douglas Area CVB,” he ranted on. “Ablute your sins at the Sand Bar, then hop a tour bus to sample Fennville wineries and end playing euchre at Pullman Tavern.” We decided to head to the end forthwith.
Zeke the Bartender was dealing cards and doling out casks of Blatz to micro-retirees as quickly as he could. At one table sat June Cleaver and her husband.
“Ward,” she said, “I’m worried about the Beaver.”
“F*** him!” Psycho Ward said.
“But the sun will run out of energy within 5 billion years,” she protested. “By then the Earth will be a burnt ball, its oceans long since boiled away.”
“Let him fry,” Ward said.
“’Leave it to Beaver’ got canceled 62 years ago,” I reminded them. “When you unretire there might not be jobs for you. Jerry Mathers,
‘The Beaver,’ is 77 now.”
“You don’t like it?” Ward said. “Tell the Pope about it.
In walked the Careermind clickbait poll team. “How come Pullman’s not on our list?” asked the commandant.
“It’s not a city,” Zeke said. “It’s a state of mind.”
In walked the Pope. “Forgive them,” he said.
“Who?” I asked.
“Everyone in general. But these hucksters in particular.”
In walked bowling teams from
In walked a bowling team from Broken Bow, Okla., waving “We’re No. 116!” fingers.
“Great,” said Zeke. “I just ran out of Blatz.”
“Repent,” God commanded.
In rolled a truck from West Side Beer Distributing. “Ice cold kegs of Milwaukee’s Finest!” called out the driver.
“Sons, your sins are forgiven,” God said.
“Tapping kegs, dealing cards, you should micro-retire,” the Careermind commandant told Zeke.
“You think Pullman’s great?” the Pope asked. “Next we’ll visit Bravo and Grand Junction.”
“If the CVB could see us now …” my critic friend said.
“Can we retire from this micro-retirement?” Ward asked.
“Too late now,” God said.
