There will be no need for this post until the year 2052. Yes, it's all settled -- I will live to the age of 103. (I thought about living till 104, but something tells me that will be a very bad year for me. So 103 it is.) Obviously, there's no need to read this right now. I just want it to be posted so my biographers and the media can look it up when the time comes.
There's one thing that you know and I don't: the method of my death. Was it a missile from North Korea? I knew it! Well, it was quick (I assume). The luck of the half-Irish.
I want everyone to know that I had a great life. Sure, it sucked. But it was great, too! The big problem was drugs and alcohol. Hoo boy. Really did me in. And before they invented SSRI's, I was a disaster. But here's the thing. They did invent SSRI's and I finally stopped getting high. That this happened at all is very, very cool.
After those magical events occurred, I had a terrific life. I helped raise two boys, wrote books, blogged and enjoyed my days thoroughly. As far as I'm concerned, a good ending obliterates the pain of a tattered beginning. I won! That's the deal: I won!
As for this idea of an afterlife, there'll be none of that for me (or you). I'm fine without it. Dying seems an appropriate ending for a life. We see creatures die all the time. Humans, animals, fish, insects and every other creature -- they all die. I think that's okay and I truly don't mind the fact that I'm dead and gone forever. I'm just happy to have been here.
I mean, think about the odds. If a different spermatazoa reached your mother's egg, you wouldn't be you. Another person would have lived in "your" place. Really, it's a miracle that you're here at all, which means you're very lucky. You are the latest in a line of successful creatures that reaches all the way back to unicellular life. You come from an unbroken line of winners. The luck involved in all this should amaze you -- and it certainly amazes me. To have been a part of creation -- that's the ultimate prize. And every one of us snagged a place in creation. We were very, very lucky.
And if you can write a book or two, to boot, you won. And I did. Thanks for reading my stuff, guys. You made it all so much better.
Going, going, gone.
There's one thing that you know and I don't: the method of my death. Was it a missile from North Korea? I knew it! Well, it was quick (I assume). The luck of the half-Irish.
I want everyone to know that I had a great life. Sure, it sucked. But it was great, too! The big problem was drugs and alcohol. Hoo boy. Really did me in. And before they invented SSRI's, I was a disaster. But here's the thing. They did invent SSRI's and I finally stopped getting high. That this happened at all is very, very cool.
After those magical events occurred, I had a terrific life. I helped raise two boys, wrote books, blogged and enjoyed my days thoroughly. As far as I'm concerned, a good ending obliterates the pain of a tattered beginning. I won! That's the deal: I won!
As for this idea of an afterlife, there'll be none of that for me (or you). I'm fine without it. Dying seems an appropriate ending for a life. We see creatures die all the time. Humans, animals, fish, insects and every other creature -- they all die. I think that's okay and I truly don't mind the fact that I'm dead and gone forever. I'm just happy to have been here.
I mean, think about the odds. If a different spermatazoa reached your mother's egg, you wouldn't be you. Another person would have lived in "your" place. Really, it's a miracle that you're here at all, which means you're very lucky. You are the latest in a line of successful creatures that reaches all the way back to unicellular life. You come from an unbroken line of winners. The luck involved in all this should amaze you -- and it certainly amazes me. To have been a part of creation -- that's the ultimate prize. And every one of us snagged a place in creation. We were very, very lucky.
And if you can write a book or two, to boot, you won. And I did. Thanks for reading my stuff, guys. You made it all so much better.
Going, going, gone.
2 comments:
Lets see, I'll be only 95, but in case I'm not here when the time comes, it was a pleasure knowing you and having the benefit of spending some real good times together. To paraphrase the PSBoys: "you were never being boring". RIP.
Thanks, Carmine. We really had fun working out together, didn't we? Good times.
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