As if This Were Your Last

You know. You've seen those episodes of "Eaten Alive" or "Mayday", in which survivors end up pretty much stirred and shaken. And what do they all, without exception, have to give for advice?

"Friends and family. Nothing else matters. Live every day as if it were your last."

Hmm. Notwithstanding that I'm not about to be going hiking in the Sierras with a pack of boy scouts in lightning season or motorcycling around Colombia solo or smuggling hashish into Turkey any time soon, how can I live today as if it were my last?

I mean, if I knew I were about to jump into enemy territory tomorrow from a DC-6 with twelve other comrades, perhaps six of whom would come back to grow grandchildren, make a small living on the stock market, and die peacefully in bed with benign heart failure, well, I'd start making my bed before I made my bed.

Live every day as if it were your last?

Really?

Fuck. Up at three a.m. Break out the champagne. What. No gourmet shops open yet? Assholes. Get on the phone. Call everyone I know, or even don't know. Tell them I have a terminal disease, with a "best buy" date of tomorrow evening. Tell them the doctor told me I had one day to live, but when I protested that I couldn't pay him, told me he'd give me another day.

If or when all the sponging idiots show up, looking for a free good time, kick everyone out who didn't bring champagne or extra-special caviar.

Start smoking again, even though the first few are evil and horribly nasty. You have 24 hours to get used to them.

Call the airlines and say you want to charter a Lear Jet to Turks and Caicos, taking off at 2 p.m. Use and max out your credit card, or call your accountant and promise him a huge Christmas bonus if he can arrange this and max out your credit card.

Invite twelve of your best friends/devoted relatives and tell them to fly in immediately, as you have only a few hours to live.

Go lie down in your bedroom and watch "Deal or no Deal," have a few beers, ignore the phone and door bell and take a late afternoon nap.

Repeat.