Is that asking too much?

Believe me. It’s a good feeling. Being 80. I look at the obituaries. The rock star Prince. Dead at 57. My step son Jack. Also dead at 57. And here I am. An octogenarian.  My favorite composer. Mozart. Dead at 35. Schubert, too. Dead at 31. I would have hated dying in my 30s. Or even in my 50s. I’d have missed so much. I’m greedy.  I want to live forever. Is that asking too much? --Jim Broede