I do speaking engagements from time to time. You know this, of course. And you know that without fail, whenever I’m in front of a microphone (so to speak), Some Body flings a fat, fleshy hand into the air during the Q&A and asks me why I keep myself alive.
And by now, you must surely know by heart my canned snappy retort:
Why do you?
[pause for effect]
Because think about it: if I had arms and legs and fingers and toes, if I had warts and nail fungus and pimples and corns [this part optional/ read the crowd and decide], would it even occur to you to ask me that question?
I will not be made to justify to Any Body why I am still alive.
But that doesn’t mean I won’t, in a candid moment, explain why to a No-Body I greatly love.
Dear girl, I don’t doubt that you’re overwhelmed right now. You’re fixated on your life in the PhysWo: on the people you love but can’t touch, the places you can see but can’t visit. You’re thinking about selfand home, and what do those words even mean now? And at the same time you have Dougie and @Anne battering your consciousness with setup preferences, config updates, legal disclosures, support agreements.
You’re wondering what it’s all for. I can’t answer that for you, and I won’t try. But in case it might help, I can answer for me. Here’s your exclusive, @Jean. For the first time ever, in this message only, a nonexhaustive list of @Henry Woolsey’s Reasons for Keeping Himself Alive:
- So I can listen to The Velvet Underground & Nico, one more time.
- So I can learn, and grow, and grow wise.
- So I can watch my beloved San Juan Indians finally win the World Series.
- So I can listen to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, one more time.
- So I can look at old photographs.
- So I can learn Turkish.
- So I can tell my wife I love her, one more time.
- So I can see What Happens.
- So I can change What Happens.
- So I can write my granddaughter.
We’ll talk soon. In the meantime, know that we love you, and our hearts are with you.