Sablemage
Demi-God
“I have long been of the opinion that if work were such a splendid thing the rich would have kept more of it for themselves.” – Bruce Grocott
Xaosseed was curious about “D&D in retirement”, particularly as the vast, immersive campaigns of my college days have not reappeared now that, in theory, I should have the time for them. Well, it’s like this…
It’s been five and a half years since I retired, and the plan for spending many more hours each week playing TTRPGs did not survive contact with reality. As part of the rationale for this blog is sharing what I learn with other GMs and players, here’s what I expected and what actually happened; Your Mileage May Vary, especially if you’re in better health than myself.
First, I expected there would be a lot more time to play games. There is some more, but not the full amount I previously spent working and commuting, not by a long shot. There are grandchildren to spoil, and keeping my house and body operational takes up more time than before. Also, while I’m still physically fit enough to do it, I’m spending a lot of time travelling; anything up to six months per year, and there’s a limit to what gaming can be done on the move. I won’t be able to keep the travel up forever, so it makes sense to front-load it. The upshot of all this is that over the course of a year, I probably spend about the same amount of time gaming now as I did before I retired.
Second, I expected that my friends would be more available, and scheduling would be less of an issue. What actually happened was that we all retired at different times, and most of them moved far away, out of easy reach; and as relatively recent retirees, we all spend more time travelling, eating out, looking after aged parents and/or grandchildren, and pursuing other hobbies; most of my friends were not as obsessed with gaming as I am to begin with, some of them have given up RPGs entirely, and a few have died. VTTs help, but frankly they are not as good as sitting around an actual table; my need to interact with other human beings in meatspace consumes more time out of the not-working bucket.
Third, I expected to be able to join new groups and play new games. In reality, local groups don’t play at times and places that are convenient for me, and they only want to play D&D 5E or Daggerheart, neither of which appeals to me. In theory I could join in VTT games to address all of those issues, but in practice scheduling remains a problem, not least because many players are still working, and also have young children or busy social lives. It’s also fair to say that without work to anchor them, such things as mealtimes and holidays are sliding around somewhat, which doesn’t help.
Fourth, I expected that I would retain enough health and energy to play as much as I wanted. In reality, I started slowing down in my 40s; hitting 60 was like running into a brick wall, and at 68 the remains of the wall fell on me while I was still trying to get up. A group will often forgive you falling asleep on them if you’re a player, especially if you’re playing VTT using push-to-talk so they can’t hear you snoring, but you can’t get away with it as the GM. I’ve coped with this so far by shifting increasingly to using published scenarios and running shorter sessions; I suspect that eventually I will also need to switch to something simpler than SWADE. A side issue is our gradually diverging tastes in games, which manifests itself as the groups I GM for getting gradually smaller over the years. Given that I am generally quite low on spoons by evening these days, that is probably just as well; once, I thought running a party of 9-10 was fine, but by the time I retired, 6 felt like too much, and these days I struggle with four and am seriously considering reducing to three players, or even two.
Finally, I expected that my enthusiasm for gaming would continue unabated; in fact, I feel a growing sense of ennui; I’ve been playing and running RPGs for half a century – been there, done that, got the T-shirt (in some cases, literally). It’s becoming increasingly difficult to summon the motivation to play in a game, let alone run one, and I have abandoned the idea that the Next Big Thing is actually going to be an improvement on what I already have.
None of this is necessarily bad, you understand, it’s just not what I expected, although if I’d thought it through, it was mostly predictable. Story of my life, really.
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