Everybody’s dying off

Celebrities, sure. They’re dying off left and right these days. Dropping like flies. That’s cuz they’re old. They deserve to die. Just because you’re a celebrity doesn’t mean you get to live forever. You get old you must die, just like everybody else.

But I’d make exceptions. Gene Hackman’s 93. I’d let him live forever. Cher? She’s okay in spite of her songs. Let her live another 500 years, singing half-breed on the Shopper’s Network. Elton John…yeah, okay, give him another nine hundred or so years…only he can never sing Philadelphia Freedom ever again.

Justin Bieber? He’s not old. I’m not sure who he is. I’ll look him up…

Justin Bieber is a Canadian singer worth 300 million dollars. He’s 29 years old. He had some kind of ailment. I confess I don’t care about Justin Bieber. I guess I don’t want him to die. But if he dies…well…that’s a sad thing I guess. Anyway, I’m not giving Justin Bieber eternal life. Unless he writes a really terrific song. I mean it’s got to be a really really really terrific song.

Neil Diamond wrote a terrific song. Red Red Wine. I confess I’m a sucker for Neil Diamond. I’m a sucker in spite of his schmaltz. I’d give him eternal life for writing Red Red Wine. But not his schmaltzy version.

Only the UB40 version.

I’m not in charge of granting eternal life

Only God apparently, has that power. I’ve observed nobody living forever. Possibly there’s a society of immortals in our midst, like Vampires, who go on living, and living, in spite of their mediocre talents. They keep their mouths shut and mind their own business. Most days they sit around reading their phones. Drinking bad coffee. Staring out the windows. Laughing for no reason. Rising only to relieve themselves at one of the four unisex toilets.

They piddle around with their preoccupations. Some of them play Backgammon. Others do computer games. Still other work on memoirs or Blogs…They never die. They exist in a forever world of sameness devoid of time and space.

There’s a name for this Phantom Zone. I’m trying to remember. Forgive me if memory fails. I’m so old. Aha! Now I remember. It’s called, THE OFFICE!

People outside the office must die

Not just Celebrities. Everybody. Normal people. People not terribly special but people worthy of life.

People I care about.

Just in the last six months a handful of my high school friends died. Names from the good old days. Radar. Jellyroll. Bane. Rand.

Others are stepping up. Getting ready.

Me included.

For the moment I’m at The Office. Living forever.

But It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

One of these days…I’ll just get up out of my chair, say bye bye to the Lobotomy Dude, step outside. And die…

Die and get it over with.

Whatever IT is…

Until then…I think I’ll drink some wine.