Thursday, November 16, 2023

The End is Nigh

It's official -- see headline in above photo.

The finish line is approaching. And the promise of eternal slumber grows near.

On one hand, this is very bad news. 

As a 66 year old man who wakes up to increasing bodily decay every morning. With new bushes of hair growing out of my ears. New crepe skin on my less-than-long legs. And new restrictions on my exercise routine lest I pop another hole in my lower abdominal muscles and invite my intestinal tract to protrude from my torso. It's not at all pretty.

Simple math would indicate I have but 7 years left above terra firma. 7 years is a short time to cram in all those unmet expectations:

How can I begin to date Charlize Theron when I haven't even met Charlize Theron?

What about the Malibu beach house and the lap pool off the front deck?

Is it too late to look into rhinoplasty and rid myself of this oversized eagle beak? (More importantly, will Medicare cover the cost of elective surgery)

On the other hand, the stronger more optimistic hand, the abbreviation of my timeline is, or at least can be, good news. 

As mentioned in previous posts, I have become a regular eater of salmon. Many times I eat salmon 6 nights a week, with the possible exception of one night, while dining out with Ms. Muse, where I will eat sushi. 

More often than not, salmon.

I love salmon. I don't love paying exorbitant prices for it. And will often choose the more pedestrian cuts at $13.99/lbs. Maybe, just maybe, if a freelance gig swings my way, I will step up and opt for the $15.99/lbs. variety. Or, gasp, the $21.99/lbs. prime cut. 

Which leaves me wondering if there's some kind of salmon caste heirarchy?

On my near daily walks I once ventured into the new Erewhon, (where the elite meet to self-deplete their wallets in order to eat) and spotted salmon at $29.99/lbs. 

Knowing what I now know on this rare cloudy Southern California morning, perhaps it's high time to treat myself, like I see so many carefree Gen Z'ers who I must assume are all independently wealthy.

More good news about my impending Dirt Nap....uh, I actually can't think of any.


Signing off now and headed up the street for the finest center cut Coho on god's green earth. I might even spring for some fresh Dill, flown in daily from Morocco and only $39.99/lbs.



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