No Kidding

No, really, I am not kidding. What follows is the complete text of an email I received this morning from "Doug":

Last Friday, my wife mentioned to me that one of their family friends, who was just fine at Christmas, is dead. Cancer.

On Saturday, my father-in-law, who is 70, kept talking about his own death, which is apparently imminent, although he is in perfect health. That was one of those “when you get old you start to think about these things” conversations.

On Sunday, I was beheaded in a motorcycle accident. Just kidding, nothing happened on Sunday.

On Tuesday at the men’s group, which I noticed you didn’t attend, the topic was – can you guess? – death. We had an interesting conversation about whether fear of death was man’s primary motivator, a conversation in which I uttered a phrase both insightful and laden with somber import: “Death changes things.” Thank you, Professor.

Anyway, as the Italians say, thata lotta deatha.

I count "Doug" a dear friend. I am going to spank him in virtual bowling/tennis/golf/baseball this weekend. I am going to take my new daughter and have her in his presence. After consulting the DSM IV, however, I think he needs to meditate on this possibility.

What?

Why must my post make any sense? Did you read his email!?!