Here's the advice nobody gives you about announcing your retirement: Prepare to be peppered with incredulous questions. It's been three weeks since I made my decision official and I've fielded approximately 100 such questions: Are you OK? What happened? Is everything alright at home? You're not sick, are you? You're not really retiring, right? What are you going to do? What now? Now what? My standard answer to the last three has been: Whatever the hell I want, which I rather enjoyed saying until I realized it might be translating to: None of your damn business, and I never want to be rude. The people who ask the questions are probably just surprised because a) I am a little young to be retiring; and b) I've been in the public eye almost as long as I've been living in this town. Won't you miss it? No! I am looking forward to voluntary seclusion. Of going days, maybe weeks, with absolutely no sense of purpose. Or, taking an exercise class at 9:30 in the morning, followed by a trip to the grocery store - sweaty and stinky, yes! - when the aisles are blissfully empty and the parking lots clear. I think many people are afraid of having a clear schedule, although I'm under no illusions that will be the case for me every day. Still, it occurs to me that I need a better answer to the Now what? question. Since it's William Shakespeare's birthday today, I think I'll quote the Bard: To be or not to be, that is the question. That'll give 'em something to think about.