by Reg Green
This weekend I celebrate my 93 1/2 birthday. One advantage of living so long is that, when you wake up two or three times in the middle of the night for bathroom visits, you have plenty of time to practice your own famous last words. I expect that in reality when the time comes they will either be a meaningless babble or a bad-tempered shout to be helped out of bed.
To avoid that seedy ending, when I’m at last dropping off into the Big Sleep, I would like it to be reported that I said contentedly, “At least, this time I won’t wake up needing a pee.”