Job security
Some jobs are just so good that you can’t imagine anyone giving one up. Lodging, salary, transportation, a good pension plan. Fixed for life, as they used to say. In the case of the Canadian senate, it used to be for life. A textbook example of a sinecure. Go ahead, look it up. And today, someone with one of those top jobs in the world did quit, climbed into a helicopter and flew away. The man with almost no name. The Pope.
To show you how rare it is for someone to get the red slippers and then retire instead of die, you have to go back to before Columbus sailed into the American story. Long enough that nobody really remembers. Fortunately, the church has a rule or three to deal with the situation, so the special gold ring will be broken, the red slippers will be left under the bed for someone else, and for the next few weeks the RC throne of power will sit empty. Never fear, the rules will still apply.
In my world, I doubt that a helicopter will be at the door when I retire. Not because I haven’t wished for it. I wish for many things: today, I wanted a snow day, but I didn’t get one. Presage of the helicopter ride. Instead, my bus got me to work, a few minutes later than usual, but not so much that anyone addressed the issue. I, too, have a pretty good gig. Not a sinecure, though.
The family supper in a restaurant was cancelled. The principal was busy, studying. Wish I’d heard things like that, a decade ago.
