This is the latest in an occasional series of blog posts commenting on upcoming retirement.

I made a confession today to someone I didn’t know before we met at Street Toyota, where I work part-time as a service department concierge.

This woman is a retired public school teacher and counselor. She served as a counselor in Spearman and Borger, Texas. We exchanged pleasantries and then I told her: “I am not wired to be a teacher.” I then saluted her for her years of service in public education and told her that I remain convinced now more than ever that teachers have a special wiring that enables them to do what they do.

I doffed my imaginary cap to her and we continued chatting about this and that while she waited for her car to be serviced.

Since I stopped working full-time for a living — in daily print journalism — more than four years ago, I have tried my hand at a number of gigs. Some of those gigs involved journalism: blogging for Panhandle PBS and for KFDA NewsChannel 10 and helping produce a weekly newspaper, the Quay County Sun in Tucumcari, N.M.

One gig involved working for about six months as a juvenile supervision officer for the Randall County Youth Center of the High Plains.

Still another was as a substitute teacher in the Amarillo Independent School District. I learned right away about one of my many shortcomings as I entered a classroom full of students who began sizing me up right away.

That shortcoming is this: My DNA does not allow me cope well with students who know how to play substitute teachers like fiddles; it becomes something of an art form with these individuals

The Amarillo school system would send me to one of its four public high schools fairly regularly; I will not disclose which one. I did not do well dealing with the youngsters with attitudes, man. It was particularly stark right after lunch. The students would come back from their lunch hour after having consumed — more than likely — copious amounts of sugar and caffeinated drinks (such as, oh, Red Bull). They had difficulty settling down.

Some of the little darlin’s thought they’d test me. They wouldn’t do as I asked. They would mouth off. They would disrespect the ol’ man — yours truly.

I was empowered, of course, to summon help from The Office if I needed it. I chose not to exercise that power. I just didn’t want to admit to the administration at this high school that I couldn’t handle the little pukes, I mean students.

So, I let ’em trample all over me.

After a while, I came to this realization: The Amarillo ISD didn’t pay me enough to put up with the snark infestation.

I quit accepting assignments at that high school, which apparently was where the need was greatest. The rest of the school district didn’t need my services regularly.

I walked away from that gig.

Which brings me back to my point. I salute teachers the way I salute first responders — such as firefighters, police officers, EMTs and paramedics.

They all do things I am incapable of doing.

I’ll stick with what I know, which at the moment continues to be writing about politics, public policy and life experience on this blog and greeting customers at the auto dealership.

I will cede the hard work gladly to public school educators.