Journalist and screenwriter Josh Friedman wrote a beautiful piece about his self-composed eulogy, necessitated by his recent cancer surgery:
[W]e all know that there’ll be a last time we do everything and that time and that day may be closer than we think. There’s already things we’ve done for the last time, maybe because we don’t do those things anymore, or maybe they don’t do us. I won’t anchor the 400m relay again, despite the fact that leaning into the curve of a black asphalt track with the baton in my hand, the finish line in front of me and the field behind me is the closest I’ll probably come to heaven.Of course, I’ve had an asthma attack while losing my virginity for the last time, so maybe things even out.
These are lasts long lost, but they’re buried in the shallows and you don’t need cancer’s sharp edge to dig them up. We all straddle the past and future, and the present’s jammed up our ass like Tom Sawyer’s fence picket.
Gil— what kind of lead is that, when you know what comes after the jump?
It’s called a setup, baby!
Check out Friedman’s great Snakes on a Plane piece that leads up to this, from last August!
I saw that already and am still calling bullshit on your post priorities. But I luv ya anyway….