Life ain’t what it used to be. In days gone by…. (cue the sepia scene, gently time-faded, slightly torn around the edges) when you finished school – loosely speaking, as a matric wasn’t necessarily a prerequisite for many careers – you were generally expected to enter the workforce. A popular starting point would have been to arrange a job interview with your bank manager. A mere courtesy of course, as he would have known you since you were but knee-high to a grasshopper. If all two bank-teller positions were already filled, his vast knowledge of the local businesses meant he could steer you in the right direction. Perhaps the local supermarket needed a new packer, or a nearby factory was searching for an apprentice. Once installed in your new position, you put a little elbow-grease into it, mixed with a healthy measure of honesty, enthusiasm, pride, tenacity, deference, respect for your superiors, and more than a solid dose of loyalty… and before you knew it, 40+ years had passed, by which time you had steadily worked your way up the proverbial ladder, and now found yourself in the respectable, not-to-be-sniffed-at position of Supervisor. Maybe even Manager. Around about which time you looked forward to cutting your 60th birthday cake, baked by the pastor’s wife (who doubled as the company’s receptionist), and receiving a golden handshake, engraved pen, and a huge “Good Luck on your Retirement” card personally autographed by everyone in the company. Time to go home and spend your well-earned retirement doing crosswords, playing bowls, and bouncing grandchildren on your knee.