A few days before the fourth of July I received a text message from my son, Alexander. That in itself could be joyful or suspicious. He wanted to know if I could meet him on Friday (the fourth) after he played golf, he wanted to give me something.
All tagged scotch
A few days before the fourth of July I received a text message from my son, Alexander. That in itself could be joyful or suspicious. He wanted to know if I could meet him on Friday (the fourth) after he played golf, he wanted to give me something.
No one wants to die in a stupid way. Something that will end up a punch line of their life once they are gone. Preferably, I would like to die in my sleep and, one night a few years ago, I almost got my wish.
So, there I was, living in New York City, working in the financial district, having gotten a trainee position at an international insurance company and thinking “Wow, kid, you done good”.
When everyone you know tells you go to the doctor – go to the doctor