I'm 68 years old, and I’m sitting in these damn board meetings, listening to some kid half my age drone on about "synergy" and "metrics," and all I can think about is how much I want to be back in the shop, covered in grease, with a good wrench in my hand. My hands are clean now, always clean, and it feels... wrong. I mean, I spent forty years knowing exactly what I was doing, fixing things that mattered, and now I just move numbers around on a spreadsheet while my wife asks me every five minutes where I put her glasses. Like I’m supposed to remember that too, on top of everything else. It’s infuriating. I just want to yell.