Don't Outlive Your Money

Isn't that what all those investion commercials say. Start planning now. A woman who looks ninety is tapping away at a nearby library computer. She seems to not have outlived her investments. Anonymousbuyer won't be outliving his now-meager bankroll. Perhaps he can time it down to the last half-dollar. He wanted to complain about all the noisy rug rats at the library. Wouldn't some employee remind parents to quiet their darlings down just a shade. But then he realized who was HE to complain. He had washed his hair sometime earlier in the library's men's room. It had one of those high surgical faucets, probably for the handicaped. It works for hair because you can get your head underneath to rinse off the anti-bacterial hand foam soap you used to wash your hair. Soap is soap. He also was shaking out his dusty old socks and scraping his feet a bit. So who was he to complain about a little noise? Five nights of fitful sleep in a car is making him punchy. But that is the idea. To experience living in a car and sleep deprivation and spending the last quarter. He must work himself into a frenzy in order to make that exit from this life stage left. No sadness, either. Rather it will end the sadness. He's altogether too emotional--you should have seem him crying uncontrollably anytime he stopped into the dumb friends league shelter. Hell, even Namath makes him cry. Wilt and Bill Russell. The list goes on and on. No guilt about sister anymore. She didn't answer the door at the motel when it was 9 degrees. Thanks, Grace, that makes us even. Take care, though, of Jerome's cat as long as you can. Give mother my best. I'll try and email her brothers and let them know where she is.