20 Years ago, I ran into the legendary Sandy Frank at a market event. He was well into his 80s, and looked sadly feeble. Me: “Sandy, why don’t you just retire?” Him: “I don’t know how to golf.” Well, I’m a retired TV executive. And I’ve got to tell you — I highly recommend it. “Retirement” is one of those words you hear your whole career and never really think it applies to you. Then one day, it does. Hopefully, those of you who are mid-career have already given some thought to that chapter of your life. You should, since Yogi Berra famously predicted, “The future ain’t what it used to be.” Now, I know you’re focused on the day-today — your projects, your deadlines, maybe who your boss will be after the next merger. Those things matter, but the day will come sooner than you think when the company emails stop, the meetings vanish, and your badge no longer opens the door at the TV trade shows or at your office. It’s worth taking a little time now to imagine that day — and to plan for it. I started CABLEready in 1992 to hyperserve the then-exploding cable market. Very soon, we expanded to international and all platforms, with programs like Inside The Actors Studio and Forensic Files. I went solo after leaving Columbia Studios because I finally found a “jerk” I could work for. Stress? Sure. Days without a paycheck? Try months. Through it all, CABLEready established itself as the expert in cable. (This is obviously far from the truth, but it’s a barely refutable, salable claim.) Conventions became key and we went all out, punching above our weight to sit alongside the big guys. Part of our visibility efforts, apart from the usual panels, advertising, speaking, press, networking, exhibiting, etc. at TV trade shows, was throwing parties, which grew to become the CABLEready parties… still legendary. People knew who we were. Then we delivered great programs and accompanying services and we had a solid company. The end of the story? Not so rosy. Rather than getting into it, let me just say, “Cash is king.” Back to you and retirement and how you might learn from my rocky road. Figure out how much money you’ll need to maintain your lifestyle, and start saving toward that goal. I know — easier said than done. Saving feels almost impossible these days. It always has been, obviously. But today, everything seems to cost more, and every dollar seems to have a dozen places to go. But find a way to do it with every paycheck. It doesn’t have to be huge — just steady. This isn’t new advice, but it’s the one thing I wish I had followed more faithfully myself. When I finally hit that retirement “age” — late 60s for me — I made a very conscious decision to turn off the lights and leave the TV industry behind. No hard feelings, no bitterness, just… time to move on. Remember, “There’s a time to arrive, and a time to leave.” For me, it was time. I didn’t want to drag, or be dragged, back into it. Because before you know it, you’re “consulting,” which is really just working under a different title — and I wasn’t ready to start that dance again. Now, leaving the TV industry sounds liberating — and it is — but it also comes with something I call FONBM: Fear of Not Being Missed. It’s real. After years of being on every group email, in every project update, in every “what do you think about this?” meeting, suddenly… silence. You’ll feel out of touch. You’ll check your phone to see if someone still needs your opinion, and you’ll realize no one does. You have no control over that. The best you can do is keep in touch with the people who really mattered — the good ones, the ones who helped shape your career. Stay connected to them, not because of what they can do for you, but because they’re the ones worth keeping. And while you’re at it, set your ego aside. That part’s not easy, but it’s healthy. After I retired, people kept asking me the same question: “So what are you gonna do now?” And my answer was simple: “Why do I have to do anything?” That was one of my smarter responses. I needed time to find a new rhythm, so I didn’t set lofty goals. I figured I’d see what came along — and what came along surprised me: Becoming Santa Claus. Yeah, that’s right — Santa Claus. I’ve been portraying the big guy for eight years now. And it’s not just “something to do.” It’s something that fills me up in ways I never expected. There’s a certain magic in seeing children’s faces light up when Santa says their names. For a few brief moments, you’re not a retiree, or a former executive, or a guy with too much free time — you’re part of someone’s pure joy. That gig fills a few months, but that still left three-quarters of the year wide open. Thankfully, so far, there aren’t enough doctor appointments to fill all that time. Then a buddy of mine who was working at a streaming radio station called me one day and said, “We could use a voice like yours.” He put in a good word, and the next thing I knew, voilà… I was a radio DJ again. My very first job in 1971 was in college radio, and for 50 years I’ve been introducing records and making witty banter in my head — waiting for the chance to do it again. And now I get to. It’s funny how life circles back. I didn’t go searching for a purpose. Another purpose found me. So that’s it, plain and simple: I’m retired, I’m Santa Claus, and I’m a radio DJ. That combination does a pretty good job of filling most of my days to the extent I want them filled. Hilariously bad golf fills the rest. Sitting with a book or staring at the view still comes with a touch of guilt — that little voice that says, “Shouldn’t you be doing something?” But John Lennon advised, “Time you enjoy wasting was not wasted.” And let me tell you — I never knew I could move so s-l-o-w. But I’m learning to enjoy it. Now, before I fade into the sunset, let me leave you with one last, unrelated — but important — thought about the industry I left. Or really, any industry: AI won’t take your job. You’ll lose your job to someone who knows AI. That’s the world we live in now. You don’t have to love it, but you do have to understand it. Keep learning, keep adapting, and don’t ever think you’re too seasoned to pick up a new skill. By Gary Lico The Liberating Feeling of Leaving the TV Industry Gary Lico at MIPCOM 2015 with Maria Liden, then head of Programming at TV4 Sweden. VIDEOAGE January 2026 Lifestyle
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