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...and taxes
peepeing claude
soopageek
he increasing number of emails I get every day warning me that the ladies are laughing about the size of my penis terrifies me. It wouldn't bother me so much, except that so many of them are from my mother. I try to keep things in perspective: she hasn't seen my penis since the early 1980s, but it was fully erect. Hot tip: when tossing it to the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, be sure to lock the bedroom door.

One thing that scares the ever living shit out of me, though, is Andy Rooney. I mean just look at him. Do you ever wonder what it would be like to have cotton puffs for eyebrows? I've become convinced that Andy Rooney died over a decade ago and was replaced by an animatronic. CBS would have you believe that the computer they added to his desk in the 90s was to give the appearance that Andy was in-step with the digital age, but it's really what controls him.

I'm not afraid of dying, never have been. If you believe in an after-life, then we continue and endure in a new place. If not, then we don't know we're dead or alive so it doesn't really matter. I am afraid of growing old, though. I'm afraid of the gradual and debilitating process of aging. My grandfather is 87. I can't even imagine what being at that stage of life does to the psyche. When you're young, it's easy to be philosophical about the future: that tomorrow may never come, live in the moment, carpe diem! Lennon said life's what happens while you're busy making plans, but it's true that everyone plans for a future. You fully intend to still be here tomorrow, next month, next year. What happens when you have to accept that that is no longer possible? When the prospect that you may have no more tomorrows becomes very real, how do you live in your own head? You can't defy the one thing certain about life. I fear that breaking point, that moment when you realize that there is no more future. The point where you give up.

I have no desire to live to be old for these reasons. I think 70 would be a good age, maybe 80 if I was in reasonably good health. I don't want to waste-away my final years in some long-term care facility. In cases like that, I think Alzheimers is a blessing. To become oblivious to reality and live in a fantasy world surrounded by long-deceased friends and family. To not know that your body systems are shutting down. To not suffer the look of pity and often patronizing tones of family. My hope is that when my time comes it will be quick: a sudden heart-attack or a stroke in my sleep and I never wake-up.

As with any fear, all I can do is face it. I know I can't defy the inevitable, but maybe I can find the ability to always believe in my own future until that final second.
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I watch 60 minutes but I have to turn it off before Andy Rooney comes on. I decided he never talks about anything interesting. He's all about mundane. Blah.

My dad has always been amused by Andy Rooney. I've never understood it. I never thought he was amusing or interesting.

I think you should be celebrating with victory laps for being named as an LJ Idol All-Star. You know, despite being ran off....

If there is a karma, just writing this has probably ensured that you're gonna live to 90 with a sharp mind and a throbbing prostate.

LJ Idol All-Star? Now you're just making shit up.

God I hope I don't live 'til 90.

Oh no, you made the cut...

http://ljidolpresspass.livejournal.com/2669.html#cutid1

And I'd say I'm 90% sure that was actually written by Gary himself....

I have this theory that old people have the ability to die at their please. Like, after putting life in order, they just think, "I'm ready," and that's it. As though they've been hanging onto a cliff face for so long, and once they've crossed their ts and dotted their is, they just let go.

I'm of course basing this entirely on the scene from Titanic where the old woman drops the Heart of the Ocean into the Atlantic, returns to her bed, and snuffs it.

I think there's a lot of truth to that, especially with couples who have been married for decades.

I was reading about Annie Oakley the other day, the American sharp-shooter. When she died, her long-time husband was so devastated by her death that he stopped eating and died 18 days later.

See, watching Annie Get Your Gun taught you something! ;^)

I could see that happening with us if we both lived to be super old.

Every hand's a winner, and every hand's a loser

Like you, I don't fear death, because I don't really believe in an afterlife (per your second point, you're either alive or dead) but I'm kind of concerned about the whole process that would lead to death itself. I could live with a switch just getting turned off, but I shudder at the thought of enjoying months/years of pain with no legal way to Check Out Early.

And I do think about this a fair bit, because none of my close male ancestors on my Dad's side hit 60 for generations. My mother's father, on the other hand, was 87. I don't know how that all adds up.

One thing I have noticed; by being a curmudgeon at an early age, I am at ease with the point where I give up on everything and everyone. Someone on the radio was saying it's great to be a crazy old coot because you can say anything to anybody, misogynist, racist, or whatever, and people won't care. Since that's me in a nutshell, I'm well ahead of the game!

Re: Every hand's a winner, and every hand's a loser

One U.S. state (Oregon) has what they call a "Death With Dignity" act which allows terminally ill patients to receive a lethal cocktail of pharmaceuticals by prescription from their doctor that they can take when they're ready to check out. It's been on the law books for 4 years and no other state as seen fit to follow suit yet. I hope it's more widespread by the time I reach my twilight years, or I may be moving to Oregon if I become diagnosed with some torturous death sentence.

sounds like you have been reading "The Penultimate Truth" by PKD.

The increasing number of emails I get every day warning me that the ladies are laughing about the size of my penis terrifies me. It wouldn't bother me so much, except that so many of them are from my mother.

Holy crap! Funniest thing I've read in a long, long time.

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