He knows that many retired men live gently, not harming anyone, only that... they are a bit boring in a consistent way.
Their morning starts with a TV remote. They watch news about gasoline prices going up and down, rainy and sunny weather, the distant world has something serious, then watch movies. Action movies shooting and killing are the best because watching is not something to think about much, it's just entertainment. Psychological movies they avoid, because they are very mentally tired. Weekends, they go to coffee, choose familiar cafes, familiar tables, familiar friends, and then talk about all kinds of things from news comments to football, from tomato price increases to the story of an U80 old man marrying a wife 30 years younger, and then recounting old stories, how young they were...
In the evening, it's drinking. The same faces, the same dishes, the same complaints. They don't like going far. Going far is tiring. Going far must wake up early, must pack things. Going far is to break the order of living that has been established as an unwritten treaty between them and old age. If their wives and children invite them to travel, they will agree, but with a very clear reluctant attitude. On the way, they sigh. When they get there, ask when they will go home. Taking photos, they stand for show, their faces as if they have just been arrested as witnesses to a case they are not related to.
They don't understand why they have to wake up early to watch the sunrise and also don't understand what to do with strolling in the evening. The cold outside, the silence of the early morning, the vastness of a distant place, for them are unnecessary things, even a bit annoying.
Their world is condensed into four walls, a TV, a phone, a few old friends and habits that are repeated to the point of becoming safe havens. They are not sad and create a sense of satisfaction with it. The sad thing is that they used to hate such men. In the old days, they swore that in old age they would be different, would go around, would live for themselves, not let life pass by in front of the TV screen. But then they sank into "deadly" peace.
Occasionally, in a rare moment, they sit silently. Not really regretful, not enough to call it desire. It's just a vague feeling that out there, there might be a cooler morning, a road not yet traveled, a trip already missed. Thinking so, then they turn on the TV again.
