Death By Numbers

So my brother Paul tells me he's been thinking all weekend about the suicide of Ervin -- the 57 year old PI whiz who hung himself on Thursday.  I guess it hits close to home -- Paul always identified strongly with being a PI lawyer.  For me -- once I got through the obligatory black humor, with my friends ("Not only did Erv make more money than we did, he will permanently be remembered for being better hung") I haven't given him another thought.

Far worse for me was the news shared by Norman -- a 24 year old recent double Cane grad (bachelors and masters in business) died the other day, in NYC.  His name was Brett, and Norman had met him.  THAT one shocked and haunts me -- finish school, start your adult life, and it's OVER before it begins.  That to me is tragedy -- a rich, childless man who decides it's, like the Beatles song, all too much, and hangs himself -- to me that's pathetic, not tragic.

Anyway -- Wifey and I saw the ancient suegra yesterday, and talked about life expectancy on the way over.  I encouraged her to look up the Social Security tables -- which she did.  For me, a nearly 56 year old male -- I can expect 26.9 more years.  Wifey gets 25.8 more.  Those cold numbers got to her -- she immediately announced she WAS going to travel more.

Of course, there's a quirk to the statistics.  You'd think that the older you lived, the less you have to go, but by living more you also avoided stuff that might have killed you.  So my suegra, 92, can still expect 4.5 more years -- to 96!

And anything can happen.  I'm headed to Joe Robbie tonight, to see U2.  If some loony decides to honor Mohammed and Allah by taking out the Club Section, well, then my life expectancy will be about another 10 hours.  In Wifey's case, with a father living until 91 and a mother still quite alive and complaining at 92 --- she may make the 100 club.

To me, it's always been about the quality of years over the quantity.  Since my Dad died in my arms when he was 63, I always planned my own life assuming I wouldn't have too many years -- this much to the annoyance of Wifey and the Ds.  Of course, I hope I get many, many more, but in case I was correct, I deny myself little.

All I know is, there a pretty rich widow in Coral Gables this weekend, as well as probably inconsolable parents in New Jersey.  I pray for peace for them.

As for me -- well, yesterday I stopped by Total Wine and bought a couple bottles of champagne for Wifey tonight -- some gin and tonic for Norman and Deb, and I have some freezing Ketel One for me.  I sprung for a limo -- it will be here at 4:30, and we can laugh at the traffic on the way to the stadium.  After the Irish guys on stage finish knocking themselves out, we can stumble back to the ride and rehydrate with orange Perrier I also bought.

We're here, for now, and I plan to take freely from this buffet line of life.  Sucks to be you, Erv...