I Don’t Want to Know

My favorite feature of my car is the satellite radio because I can listen to the Broadway channel all the time.  Well, not all the time, just when I am alone in the car, which really is most of the time.  There is no bad news, no teen-aged angst songs or nothing that makes me feel old.    In fact, it makes me feel young when I hear a song from the short lived “They’re playing our song,” from 1980 which I saw with my friend’s Paul, Jaleh and Mike during our Christmas break from college.

I love musicals, even though I myself am the most unmusical person on earth.  But who knows that as I am tooling down the highway singing “I’m Jean Val Jean” at the top of my lungs.

Today I heard a song from “Once” that I had never heard before called, “Be Italian.”  It was a fine song whose major message was “Live life like it’s your last day.”  I got to thinking about that advice and it really started to make me mad because it’s a terrible recommendation.  Maybe it’s Italian, but I’ not sure.

If I were to live everyday like it was my last I would be eating whatever I wanted.  We all know that does not work out well for me.  I think I would be really angry after having between 6-9 different cheeses half of them in some melted format, a loaf of spectacular bread, a caramel fudge sea salt brownie sundae, some pasta (see I’m thinking Italian now) and a few cheddar bay biscuits from Red Lobster and I woke up the next day alive.  It would take me at least a month of strict arugula eating to make up for that “last day on earth” gluttony.

If I thought today was my last day I don’t think I would volunteer to help anyone run their non-profit better or bother to answer anyone’s questions.  I would not do the laundry or take the trash out.  I would just want to sit around with my friends and talk about how much fun we have had and cry and laugh.

Chances are it would not be my last day and then I would wake up mad that I missed the trash pick-up, had no clean underwear or missed an opportunity to make the world a better place.

I think it is counsel to say, “Live like you are going to live for another 100 years.”  If that were the case I would do a better job at improving the world.  My recycling would be spot on, not a toilet paper tube or old magazine would ever make it into the trash.  I would be a nicer person if I thought I was going to have to spend the next 100 years with all you people.  If it were my last day I might actually tell someone what a fool they are.

I am happy to not know when my last day is going to be.  I hope I never do know.  I think my best plan is to just keep doing what is best for me in case I’m sticking around.  No wild and crazy last hurrahs, but I really would love one biscuit sometime close to the end.