Thursday, November 09, 2006


This happened a couple of weeks ago. I had an unpleasant experience with my body. It led me to believe I was dying.

So what to do?

Go see a doctor? Go to a hospital?

That’s crazy! You know what you find in doctor’s offices and hospitals? Sick people, that’s what. The last thing I want to be around when I’m dying is sick people. They depress me. I don’t want to be depressed when I’m dying. Besides, I might catch something.

So what to do?

Years ago I told my wife of 17 years, “When I know I’m dying I’ll start smoking cigars again. That’s how you’ll know.” But my addiction to nicotine finally ended. I had no desire for a cigar.

So what to do?

Ah! I had the perfect solution. I had a half bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label I’d been saving for a special occasion. That’s what I’d do. I wouldn’t want to leave that to the gigolo who would move in after I died as surely as night follows day.

So I drank it, partly in celebration of my demise and partly to screw up the inheritance.

And then the worst thing happened.

I didn’t die.

What a lousy turn of events.

Those symptoms weren’t repeated and, even worse, I felt fine.

I drank up all that Blue Label for nothing.

Those are the kinds of dirty tricks life plays on you.


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