Dotard

I have an good friend in South Florida who has reached a sad state in his old age. The people he moved down there with have all died, his friends have moved away, and now he's all alone and in bad health. I feel real bad that there's nothing I can do to help him. Even if I were to fly down there for a few days, he'd still be in the same situation when I left. That right there is the main reason I moved back to Chicago. The fear of being all alone in my old age. Oh, I realize that even with relatives living within easy driving distance, I could still be alone. But I know that I could make them feel guilty, which is good enough.

I do have a few requests for when I reach the age of dotard, like our president. There are things that I'd like those who know me, those who are related to me, to do for me.

• First of all, if I ever start walking around smelling like a billy goat, tell me. Old noses don't work as well as young ones. Seriously, I have been in the supermarket on more than one occasion and thought that the meat had turned, but it turns out some old guy thinks the shirt he has worn for five days smells just fine.
• Feel free to tell me that my barn door is open. I've already reached that stage where I will walk around for hours with my zipper down and nobody will tell me to zip it up.
• If at some point I have more hair sticking out of my nose than is on my head, feel free to point that out. However, do not try to pluck them. I'll just shove them back up my nostrils until I can trim them.

I also have some don'ts.

• Don't step on my teeth. I may have left them on the floor somewhere.
• Don't try to take away the keys to my car. I intend to keep driving until I hit something really big. Hopefully the air bags work.
• And most of all, do not try to put me into some old fart home for the 'aged'. I do not want to sit around all day looking at a bunch of old people. Unless of course all the attendants are hot young men, then fine. And if they give sponge baths, so much the better.