Nah, I must be stupid.
Why does one need money to fix ones vision, when one looks back and one doesn't want to see anyway. And looking forward all one can see is the brilliant shining reward that one is going to get at the end of ones heroic life anyway.
Take my advice, someone pop down to Walmart and get a whole bunch of dark sunglasses for our deserving retirees, that way they will see even less of the past sins (which they don't want to see anyway) and the dazzle from the rewards they are about to attain, will be more tolerable.
Oh and while I'm profering bright ideas. Paul Fleming, I knew the name rang a bell. Did he not have a brother Ian Fleming, who of course created James Bond 007 and also wrote Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?
You know Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, the car that took Dick Van Dyck, Julie Andrews and the two kids to a land where children were locked up by a strange evil regime.
Which proves my point, Paul and Ian were brothers and Ian was writing metaphorically. The car was the magical journey we all thought we were going on, with our loving parents. The children was of course the MKs and the strange evil regime was . . . oh you work it out.
As for James Bond, the sauve sophisticated agent with a British accent, who cleans up evil with his liscence to thrill, wonder who that could be . . .