... it'll be 2030. And I hope some friends stop by with a few bottles of this or that, and we head out to the back, light a fire, and sit around it until the sun comes up. I hope I can stay awake that long. I hope I can still make a bit of a dent in one or two of those bottles. I hope that there'll still be CPP and OAP to collect when I get there. I hope that I will have already been retired for 10 years, so it'll all be anti-climactic. I hope that I'll have a really nice Kubota tractor with which to till the garden. I hope that my 1988 Toyota truck will still run. I hope that Paul Bergman and Karl Redding will come by later in the evening - Paul first, and then a good while later, Karl - with their guitars and play me a few tunes - maybe an impromptu concert. I hope that my kids will be there too, just helping us old farts manage.
And I hope that Harry had a good day today too. We tried to do our best. (But we could not.) We brought a couple of bottles and sat around in the living room drinking one. We struggled to stay awake. We watched a bit of playoff hockey action. We decided that it was useless to fight it. We went home early to go to bed.
I like Harry. But hey guys, please. Please don't let me go to sleep before midnight on my 65th. Serve me coffee between beers if you must, but keep me awake for a good long time. And if it's a Saturday, make sure that I don't go to church on Sunday. I think Jesus would be appalled to see me there too.
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