I saw an obit in the paper today for a guy my age, who died suddenly last Friday. Rich guy. Family money. USC. Law degree. Worked several years as an assistant district attorney, then retired to private life. Wife and kids. Country, hunting, garden and beach clubs. Travelled freely. Several homes, both in and out of the local area. Liked the ponies at Santa Anita. The obit said he was a happy guy. Laughed loud, hard and often. Why not? Sounds like he had a good life.
Last week, when we were both alive, many differences could have been pointed out between the two of us. You know what the biggest difference is between us now? I'm still alive. To you, my life might appear to be privileged. It might not. We share at least one thing in common, that the dead guy will never again have. We're both alive.
Take a lesson from the dead on Memorial day. You'll be dead too, soon enough. Today though, you're still alive. Go out to the park. Share a beer with a guy who claims to be a homeless veteran. Throw a stick to a dog. Cook burgers for some kids, give a couple to the homeless guy. Cheer while the kids play a little ball. Play a little yourself, if your knees still work. It's never just another day, when you're above ground. Just ask a dead guy.
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