By Mgr John Devine OBE

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I write three days after my retirement from the Isle of Man. I spent yesterday waiting in for the engineer to install broadband. I set up my PC with all its peripherals: CD drive, speakers, camera, printer and external hard drives, with a bundle of spaghetti wires all ready to go. And of course it didn’t work.

 

In my younger days I was interested in electronics. The world was divided by those who could change a plug and those who didn’t have a clue. In these days of health and safety, all appliances arrive with plugs factory fitted. As a student at Upholland I built radios with Father John Gaine. Radios were a large item of living-room furniture. Glass valves were beginning to be replaced by the marvel of the transistor. The soldering iron was an essential tool for connecting all the wires. Printed circuits were only just coming in. Now they’re replaced in turn by silicon chips. You’d need a microscope to see all the circuits they contain. I’ve still got a soldering iron, but it’s a museum piece.

 

Since my ordination 52 years ago, I’ve hardly looked at things electrical. I’ve not had the time or the patience or the energy to fathom how they work. The slightest glitch had me immediately on the phone to an IT expert venting my frustration and begging for rescue.

 

Yesterday was different. For the first time in half a century I applied myself methodically to eliminating all the factors, one by one, that might be causing the glitch. A simple matter of disciplined problem-solving. It worked. I got the thing going. This piece of writing is living proof. And I didn’t look at my watch all morning. This was my first lesson in retirement. Taking time. There’s something contemplative about it.

 

Today I got my bus pass, a senior rail card, a train ticket and a haircut. Am I overdoing it? Have I already forgotten yesterday’s lesson? I had five inconsequential conversations with total strangers. The lady behind the counter in the train station got round to telling me about her own trips on the train to see her grandchildren in Essex. They’re even growing up to support different football teams. I wasn’t in a hurry and neither was she. I’ve rejoined the human race.