Until I drop dead.

My problem. Could be. That I don’t want to fit into the modern world. It’s too much trouble. I’d rather be left alone. To pursue my old ways. Face it. I’m uncomfortable in modern times. I have no, or little, desire to adapt. Instead, I’ll plod along. Like a slow motion tortoise. Not a wily, speedy hare. I’ll take my time. Getting to my destination. Maybe I’ll never arrive.  But that’s all right. After all, there may be no such thing. As a finish line. Meanwhile, it ain’t over until it’s over. Until I drop dead. --Jim Broede