In search of the best disabling phobia

Originally published March 13, 2011
These days, you have to plan ahead for your retirement. Gone are the days you can just work until you're 65 and then take the rest of your life off with pay. Now, instead of a pension like in the old days, you have a 401K.



Whose idea was that, anyway?


Let's throw all our retirement money into the stock market instead of saving it in an interest bearing pension fund. That way, we'll be one recession away from having to work until we're 110.



On the plus side, stocks will go up and make rich people happy, so I guess it all works out fine.



Ain't none of us going to be able to retire unless we cheat.


Myself, I'm researching different disabilities to see if I have any that might qualify me for Social Security before I turn 90. I found a handy list of phobias on the Internet at www.blifaloo.com, and I'm thinking about developing a few as soon as I hit 55.



I'm fairly sure I already have some, such as teratrophobia — the fear of monsters. I thought everybody had that one. That's what monsters are for, isn't it?



I know for a fact I have tonsurephobia, which is the fear of haircuts. Actually, it's the fear of being in a public place like a barber shop and having to take off my hat that bothers me. Don't tell anybody, but the treeline on my head is a little lower than it used to be. 


What if there were peladophobics in the shop? They fear bald people. There could be a riot.



Here's a funny one: Sesquipedalophobia is the fear of long words. Are you listening, Alanis Morissette? That's irony.



Pentheraphobia is the fear of your mother-in-law. Batrachophobia is something little boys take advantage of when they chase little girls with frogs. I don't think either of those would get the government to give me free money, though.



One that looks pretty easy to fake is chirophobia, the fear of hands. I'll be going into the interview with the case worker, and when she introduces herself and offers her hand, I'll start screaming and slobbering. If that doesn't work, I'll kick off my shoes and show a little briophobia, foot fear. They'll throw money at me to get me to leave.



I could qualify for disability payments if I were a lumberjack and had hylophobia, the fear of forests, or if I were a truck driver with hodophobia, the fear of traveling by roads, or if I were a priest with papaphobia, the fear of the pope.



I would like to see that one demonstrated, really. Can you imagine the look on His Holiness's face if someone started screeching in terror when he came into the room?



It's hard to find a phobia that fits my job. There's graphophobia, the fear of writing, but if I had that I could still design pages and take pictures, so it wouldn't totally get me out of work. The more general ergophobia, the fear of all work, might do it.


Come to think of it, I think I already have that one, too.


Ken York's column appears in The Daily Record, Lebanon, Mo. It is reprinted here with permission.