James Lileks: How your dog feels about Social Security

The usual advice for a fun life: Dance like no one's looking, drive like you stole the car and save as if Social Security will not exist.

Well. I've always thought that one way to make people look at your dancing is to dance as if no one is watching. As for "drive it like you stole it," we have enough local evidence about how bad that works out. I prefer to drive it as if I own it, and will need it tomorrow.

Social Security? When I was young I resented it, because I knew my money was not sitting in a lockbox somewhere with a purple ribbon around stacks of cash. I think the day I first read about its inevitable collapse was the day I started paying into it.

Now that I am able to claim it, I am, of course, a fierce defender of the status quo and will brook no changes. Hands off my lockbox, kids.

The other night I decided to look up what I would get if I hung it up today. Not that I'm intending to do that; I'm not sitting here with gnarled hands from a lifetime of typing, begging for this unbearable burden of being smart-alecky to be taken from me.

I logged in to my account, imagining Porky Pig at the bottom of the page, waving his little cloven-hoofed hand at the monthly payout, saying "Th-th-that's all, folks."

The basic information page was as clear as you might expect. If I don't claim it for another nine months and 14 minutes, the amount increases. I assume they ran the actuarial tables and said "Push it out to nine, and we'll save $34 billion. And by 'save,' I mean, of course, we won't have to conjure money into existence with a printing press and a vague popular understanding that these pieces of paper and numbers on a screen have an intrinsic value."

The idea that I could get this now appeals to the toddler brain. The wise adult part of your brain counsels otherwise:

All of a sudden you feel like a toddler looking at a cookie. You can have a cookie now, but if you wait, you can have two cookies.

"But the cookie is right there, I want cookie."

"I know, but you'll get more cookie if you wait a year and nine months. If you eat the cookie six months from now, you will get more cookie, but you will also be assessed a penalty of 5/9th of 1% against the additional amount of cookie."

Probably not an argument that works well with toddlers. If it does, get that kid to Harvard, now.

At this point I heard my dog Birch snortle in his sleep, and I thought that deferred gratification would work even less on his canine brain.

The whole idea of Social Security is alien to dogs. "Oh, but they bury bones," you say, "and that indicates they are thinking of some undefined future point at which a stored bone may need to be accessed."

True, but A) there is no penalty for early bone-unearthing, and B) the dog is providing the future asset himself, not having a portion of his daily snacks taken away and buried for him.

Anyway, let's log into our account and see what's there.

I could not access my account, because the Social Security webpage was not available overnight. As a matter of policy.

This does not communicate faith in the solid nature of the system. It makes you think a guy takes care to shut off all the lights and power down the computers because the cost of electricity could make the program go bankrupt on Nov. 23, 2031, instead of Nov. 22. Every bit helps!

It's possible they assume that no one who is drawing Social Security is up at this hour. They have gone to bed an hour before because they have to get up and walk the mall and eat at Denny's. Maybe it's mandatory. Your first check comes with a list of Denny's locations. You've been assigned booth 12, seat 4.

Because you are now an old man, please wear jeans, white puffy tennis shoes, a polo shirt (striped) and a baseball cap with a logo of a military affiliation or a golf ball brand. Please take care when placing your order as this will be your "regular" and will be served at all future visits. Enjoy retirement!

Kidding. That only happens when you start to collect at 70, and that's waaaay off in the future.

(Man blinks, finds himself at Denny's, staring at two scrambled eggs with bacon, really wishing he'd ordered sausage the first time.)