Dylan Thomas said it poetically:
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light!
When we few survivors hit our 90s, the stark reality is just waiting to kick the bucket within weeks, months or at most a year or two. So, why hang around to suffer deaf ears, fading eyesight, painful arthritis, adult diapers and cracked bones from bathroom falls.
Or much worse, don’t survive long enough to be sentenced to a nursing home, and treated like a jailbird and/or zoo animal. I’m not advocating ending it with a bullet in the brain or jumping off a bridge. Bowing out, if you do it right, can actually be an extended and enjoyable adventure during your inevitable final days on Earth.
First, there’s booze. Instead of that one shot nightcap you’re now sipping, add another and another until you’re crawling into bed happily with a hazy laugh. Or go nightly with an old sot pal and drink until wasted. And eventually, your alcoholic brain and heart will mercifully give out while you’re feeling no pain.
And there’s food. Lots of it. Forget that diet your doctor recommends of non-fat veggies and meatless Tuesdays. Get delivered feasts to gorge at home and go to overpriced restaurants. Load up on pasta, chow mein, steaks, won tons, tacos, fried potatoes and lots of pie and cake. Do that daily for a year or so and, despite your fattened butt, you’ll easily fly up to Heaven wearing a beatific smile of satisfaction.
Note: Poet Dylan Thomas died on a sidewalk at age 38 after a night of boozing.