Life Can Be Golden

A fast-growing segment of readership in a nation of longer-living, higher-earning citizens consists of men and women be tween 50 and 60 with dreams of retirement. Their No. 1 journalistic prophet and guide: Tom Collins, 45, feature editor of the Chicago Daily News, whose weekly column, "The Golden Years," appears in 94 U.S. newspapers. "Golden Years" has proved so popular that Collins wrapped up some of his columnar observations in a book for oldsters, The Golden Years (John Day; $3.75). Last week the book was off to such a fast sales start that the publishers tagged it a potential bestseller.

Collins' book contains advice on such things as "How to Make Money in Retirement" and "How to Keep a Husband Alive." Sample advice: "Science has not been able to prove that men are the stronger sex. Start treating your husband accordingly. After his mid-forties stop asking him, or even allowing him, to do the heavy work around the house." On the subject of money: "Giving money to your children will not keep them close to you. There is no greater insurance for the independence and happiness of Mom and Pop than to hold to the major share of their money until they die." To aging spinsters: "Get out among people. Drop some of your inhibitions. Being too prim can be the worst enemy you have after you retire." On living with children: "Don't ... if there is any way to avoid it. But live close by if you can. Maybe around the corner." On where to retire: "There are no statistics on happiness, but a quiet observation of those who move away leads you to believe that those who remain at home fare best."

Bellhopping. Collins, a genial Georgian, thought up his column six years ago, when his managing editor demanded more fare for old folks. He gathers his material at firsthand--from the aged, who have learned through experience. Old people keep dropping into his office, telephoning, writing 125 letters a week. Some bring problems; others want to share their own solutions, "to tell how to live on $130 a month or how to plant potatoes and beans in the back garden to save money." Collins, who takes quickly to people, also seeks out information on trips and vacations, stops to chat whenever he sees grey hair. He got one good column when he rang for a bellhop. His call brought a white-haired man who had retired with a good income. But he felt so lonely that he took up bellhopping--and was having a fine time despite his family's strong objections.

Columnist Collins started out on a Decatur, Ga. weekly, worked his way northward through the Atlanta Journal and the Louisville Courier-Journal to the Chicago Daily News. "The Golden Years" is still a part-time job. His full-time job is running the Daily News's women's pages, which he revamped into one of the crispest collections of features in the U.S. He also writes "Today's Chuckle," the short daily gag that is the most widely syndicated text feature (318 papers) in the U.S. Sample chuckle: "All that guy is leaving is seatprints on the sands of time." He culls his gags from hundreds of publications, has built a vast collection "that I'm going to sell to a TV joke writer by the ton."

Spouse-keeping. Collins is not the only columnist in his family. His wife Beulah, 33, writes a daily feature, "Spouse-keeping," on how to care for men, children and homes. It appears under her pen name, Katy P. Collins, in 46 U.S. and foreign papers, including some, e.g., the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, the Toledo Blade, that also carry her husband's column. It also runs two or three times a week in the Chicago Daily News when it can pass muster with Feature Editor Collins. She does her writing at the comfortable Collins home on Chicago's North Shore, where she also looks after three children and all the housekeeping ("I'm afraid I'll get out of touch if I don't do my own housework").

The Collinses' busy day leaves them little time to develop interests for their old age--a course that Tom Collins urges on his readers. They are up daily at 6:30 a.m., and keep to such a crowded schedule that when Beulah Collins meets her husband's commuter train, she brings him his first evening bourbon old-fashioned in a peanut-butter jar. But with plenty of other income for their living costs, the Collinses are salting away his earnings from his retirement column to take care of their own golden years.

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