You know you're not upper class when your retirement fun includes these 7 pastimes

Retirement fun isn’t one-size-fits-all.

For some, it’s yacht clubs, polo matches, and summers in Tuscany. For others, it’s the little pleasures—what feels doable, affordable, and within reach.

The truth is, the pastimes we gravitate toward in retirement say a lot about where we sit on the social ladder.

And while there’s nothing wrong with being in the “not upper class” camp (most of us are), it’s worth noticing the ways our choices reflect who we are.

Here are seven pastimes that quietly reveal you’re not living in the rarefied air of the upper class.

1. Playing bingo at the local hall

You don’t see many billionaires circling numbers on a plastic-coated sheet while sipping weak coffee under fluorescent lights.

Bingo is a community game, rooted in camaraderie and small stakes. It’s not glamorous, but it is social—and affordable.

When I tagged along with my aunt to her retirement community’s bingo night, I saw firsthand how the game was less about winning $30 and more about staying connected. That’s the thing: upper-class retirees don’t need to budget fun this way.

For the rest of us, bingo is about belonging. And belonging often beats luxury.

2. Gardening for necessity

Upper-class retirees might landscape, but they usually don’t garden because they need the tomatoes.

Working the soil, tending to lettuce, or pulling weeds in your backyard plot is a pastime rooted in practicality. My neighbor, a retired mechanic, once told me, “This garden feeds us for months—it’s not just a hobby.”

There’s something deeply satisfying about growing your own food. It’s not about displaying wealth—it’s about using your hands and creating something that sustains you.

3. Hitting garage sales

If you’re scouring driveways at 7 a.m. on a Saturday, you’re probably not upper class.

Garage sales, flea markets, estate sales—these are treasure hunts for people who know the value of stretching a dollar. There’s joy in finding a perfectly good lamp for five bucks or a stack of records that would cost fifty in a vintage shop.

I once found a nearly mint vinyl of The Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead at a garage sale for two dollars. That thrill? Priceless. And also not something you’ll find on the retirement agenda of someone who casually buys art at Sotheby’s.

4. Watching daytime TV

Here’s the reality: if you’ve got the cash, your retirement fun probably isn’t built around reruns of Wheel of Fortune.

Daytime TV has long been a stand-in for accessible, no-cost entertainment. It fills the gaps in time, keeps the mind busy, and creates a sense of routine.

But it’s also a marker of circumstance. I’ve mentioned this before, but how we spend our idle time reveals more about us than we think. The upper class doesn’t lean on soap operas and talk shows to get through the day.

5. Playing cards with friends

Poker, bridge, rummy—cards are a cheap and cheerful way to keep social ties strong.

I remember traveling through Spain and seeing older men gathered in town squares, slapping cards down with animated gestures. It wasn’t about high stakes—it was about ritual, rhythm, and laughter.

That’s what cards are for most retirees outside the upper crust: a way to make time richer without spending much money. And honestly, isn’t that a better definition of wealth?

6. Volunteering at community centers

When you’ve got money, philanthropy tends to look like gala dinners, foundation boards, and naming rights for hospital wings.

For the rest of us, it’s volunteering at the food bank or reading to kids at the library.

This is where Rudá Iandê’s Laughing in the Face of Chaos hit me. His line—“You have both the right and responsibility to explore and try until you know yourself deeply”—reminded me that volunteering isn’t just about giving; it’s about discovering purpose.

The book inspired me to think of service less as charity and more as a mirror of who we are. And in retirement, that mirror is often clearer than ever.

7. Going on bus trips

Cruise ships and private jets? Those are upper-class territory.

For everyone else, retirement often includes bus trips organized by community centers, churches, or senior groups. They’re affordable, social, and safe.

I once joined a group bus trip through the California coast with my dad’s retiree friends. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was packed with laughter, roadside diners, and shared stories. That’s the kind of richness money can’t buy.

As noted by sociologist Erving Goffman, everyday life unfolds like theatrical performance—each of us playing roles, managing impressions, and navigating social stages

The bottom line

The pastimes of retirement reflect more than just taste—they reflect class, access, and priorities.

Being “not upper class” isn’t a loss. In fact, it often means your retirement joy is built on connection, practicality, and creativity rather than status.

So the next time you’re playing bingo, weeding the garden, or hopping on a community bus trip, remember: your retirement fun may not scream luxury, but it carries its own kind of wealth.

And maybe that’s the better deal.