Departing in austere times.

"I have been a most unconscionable time dying, but I beg you to excuse it."

-Charles II

It’s been a rough first quarter!  Painfully made aware of the contribution we Baby Boomers are making to an “unbalanced” federal budget I feel personally responsible and therefore shall make provisions in case I degenerate into a less than perfect senior citizen.

So, I'm designing and making arrangements for a program called let’s-go-in-style-at-age-one-0-one.  With an option to extend should I not be bonkers and a burden by that age (nothing like a deadline to motivate a decorator).  Friends say it’s absolutely top drawer and sign us up, please.

Therefore, I won’t do the customary thing and preserve the family fortunes. What I have in mind is a glorious affair: ideally one in which I can choose to discreetly expire lounging in a plush armchair, perhaps at The Diogenes Club, London?   I will still be elegant and witty, sipping from a tumbler, whilst a white haired Benedict Cumberbatch quietly reads to me from The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.