Time Has Come Today?

If only this were one of those cooler blogs that include mp3s and musical background (which would only occur if I were a) cooler and b) technically adept ) I would let you hear the song I am enjoying as I pound away on the new keyboard. It's "Time Has Come Today" from the Chambers Brothers from back in the day, and it was a huge favorite in my gang. But the song, all eleven minutes of its psychedelicized soul, came to my mind when I read this story on Yahoo! (And wouldn't you! love to work for a company! with an exclamation! sign! in its name!? How great to work at Joe's Tavern! or Snerd Cesspool Cleaners! or Stuff 'n' Things!) Seems this fellow up in Connecticut, presumably a bastion of Yankee rectitude, purchased some Lottery tickets and then went home and passed away while doing yardwork. It was to be several weeks later when his widow, going though his final effects, decided to check the tickets for a winner and found herself bucks up to the tune of 10 million semolians.

Did he know?

There is a great debate among theologians, ethicists and people who read the Enquirer for the latest poop from America's "Top Psychics" (who is responsible for deciding who are our "top" "psychics"?) about premonitions (from the Latin premonius, literally "I told you so, but do you listen? NO!") of death. My true story is that the evening before he died of a massive myocardial infarction, my grandfather called each one of us just to chat for a few minutes and then spent some time in his basement on a January night, making sure that the notoriously balky furnace was ready to warm the house for a while. Certain that all was in order, he went to bed for the last time ever.

And this was my grandfather, who took with him the story of the time I had dental surgery to remove an impacted wisdom tooth and had left the dentist's torture suite to pick up a prescription for Darvon at a grocery store where I ran into my grandparents doing their weekly Shredded Wheat and hot sauce stocking-up. "Oh look, there's Marky!," exclaimed Nana, who then got the shock of her life when I turned and drooled like the Elephant Man. "I juuuuussssssssh hadddddddddddd my toooooooooooooooof pulllllllllllllllleddddddddddddddd outtttttttttttttttttttt," was my witty comeback. Always quick with a quip.

Sure, we've all read the Woody Allen stories where death comes a'calling and we cheat him out of a few more days by acing him at gin rummy, but do we all get a feeling that the Time Has Come Today? You might check this website for the stories told by others. Please let me know what you think. If I should see an old wizened figure hanging around the garage, toting a scythe, let me know if I should call out sick, won't you?