I have been thinking about retirement a lot lately. My sister, who is just a little more than three years older than I, is retiring this summer and that has sent a message. It's not as powerful a message as having an 8-year-old in school, but it is a signal.

Although my wife and I have done a reasonably decent job of preparing for retirement, financially, physically, emotionally, etc., I have to confess I have never really believed in retirement. Don't get me wrong, I believe in the concept; I just never believed I would live long enough or be able to afford it.

When I first entered the work force on a full-time basis in the early '70s, the notion of struggling to make ends meet was, for me, more like an all-out war. The only thing I could afford to save were the leftovers from the previous night's meal. As my career began to evolve and progress, I was like any young person with a little jingle in their pocket and spare time on their hands let the good times roll.

That phase probably lasted longer than it should have. One of the reasons it was so prolonged was the prevailing belief that Social Security wouldn't be able to accommodate the wave of baby boomers and would collapse under the weight. Without Social Security, my thinking went, there was no way to save enough money to retire even with company pensions.

As the years rolled by and I got married and had kids, some maturity began to show signs of life. I began to put money away, enrolled in a 401(k), and dabbled in some investments. Much to my chagrin, Social Security didn't collapse, my savings, pension and 401(k) grew and my investments actually made some money.

Retirement, which for so long was little more than a fantasy, became not only possible, but actually probable. I stopped worrying about the fate of Social Security. I also stopped worrying about the need to hold onto a steady job until I heard the final trumpet call.

I enjoyed that respite from worry, but I'm back at it. Gas prices are rising faster than the compounded interest on my credit cards, and the prices for food and other necessities are in hot pursuit. I lie awake at night with visions of an insatiable beast, inflation, gorging itself on my precious savings.

Making matters worse, I had a chat with Dr. Bill Watkins of the University of California, Santa Barbara Economic Forecast, hoping for some valuable insight. It was a bad move on my part. Dr. Bill has a wicked sense of humor and took devilish delight in painting an economic picture sure to curl my toes.

Dr. Bill asked me to imagine what would happen if, for instance, ethanol became our energy answer. Suddenly, growing corn, which is the key ingredient in ethanol, would dominate the world's agriculture production. That's not hard to imagine because corn, as any gardener knows, is a relatively easy crop to grow and does so almost anywhere.

Under this scenario, Dr. Bill explained, growing corn would be so lucrative that farmers around the globe would begin switching from such staples as grains, vegetables and fruits. It would be the old supply and demand principle, creating shortages in these staples and sending inflation soaring.

While I was digesting all that, he challenged me to also think about the potential ecological implications, such as burning down the rain forests in Central and South America and replacing them with corn crops. With that, he sat back in his seat and smiled benignly at me.

The next time I seek out advice about the future I'm going to talk to a veterinarian or a plumber, anybody but an economist. Dr. Bill is a nice guy and really, really smart, but he needs to work on his bedside manner.

I've come to think that maybe this whole retirement thing is little more than a vicious plot hatched by my parents' generation. I think they're still mad about the '60s and found the perfect way to get back at all of us baby boomers. We should have known that the generation that whipped fascism in World War II wasn't going to sit back and take guff from a bunch of know-it-all kids with flowers in their hair.

What's so special about retirement anyway? What's the big deal about doing what you want to do? Wearing what you want to wear? Going where you want to go? Kicking back, taking it easy, and enjoying the good life?

I think I'm going to cry.

Joe R. Howry is editor of The Star. He can be reached by phone at 437-0200 or vy e-mail at jhowry@VenturaCountyStar.com.