Picture_12This is going to be boring; I am going to write about death and taxes. There is nothing so tedious as the predictable; Life by definition is not knowing what happens next.

Recently a oncologist colleague announced he had brought a man back from the brink of death. It didn’t sound good viz. the condition of the saved patient. I pondered this and thought if he should discover me on the brink of death I’d be grateful if he let me be. 15 years ago I promised Someone I would love him; two years ago I made him promise if I should land in an institution surrounded by zealot healers striving to keep me alive (lest they be somehow sued) he’s to whisk me away in a wheelchair. Plus as much valium as I can carry.

Someone is just finishing the taxes. Every year they get more complex and harder to organize and complete. The kitchen and office counters are piled up with papers and receipts. In the process of tidying the taxes Someone unearthed ‘important papers’ going back to the late 90s (overall a more friendly era) and these too are in heaps, ready for shredding.
Upon their completion he will put the taxes in the post and off they go to the far off kingdom of Chicago to good Mr. Dunn, tax-man extraordinaire. I’ve had a series of physicians and dentists but only this one accountant. He’s been doing my taxes since the late 80s.  I haven’t lived in Chicago since 2ooo, but I would return every February for the opera and to see Mr. Dunn. We had a sort of ‘same time next year’ tax date for nearly thirty years, both of us eyeing each other for signs of age and wondering who will outlive the other.

After the taxes are dunn (hohoho) Someone and I can perhaps turn to other projects like creating living wills and ridding ourselves of the mentioned “important papers”.  Or perhaps we will just do nothing for once.  Sounds groovy.

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