Now, as I feel my grip on life grow more tenuous with each passing day, I have finally learned why my life is so damned precious to me....... As, indeed, every life should be precious to the person living it.

Lord knows, my life isn’t priceless because of all the fun I’m having with it. I certainly don’t cling to it because of all I’ve derived from it; I’ve known little of wealth, or power, or fame, or even love and friendship. My life is important because of the uniqueness of it! There are billions of lives in this world, and every single one is an individual. There aren’t any two alike. You can’t live someone else’s, and they can’t live yours. We can influence each other, of course; but you can’t motivate me one iota if I simply choose to ignore you. And we ignore each other more often than not.

Like anything that is truly unique, life is of little value if you try to hide it from sight. You can’t horde it away in a vault. You can’t store it up for later use. Like a child’s favorite toy, you have to take it out often, and play with it. Play rough with it now and then! Sure, you’ll wear it out, but at least you’ll have enjoyed it. It isn’t going to last forever anyway. You can’t sit on the rocks and dangle your feet, and let life lap around your ankles. You have to dive in and splash around in it.

And don’t live your life as though it were a dress rehearsal; go for the gusto. This is THE big show, and it’s going to open and close after just one performance, and this is your only shot at it. Yes, you’ll blow your lines a few times, maybe more than a few. But don’t waste a second worrying about those blown lines. You can learn from them, but you’ll never get a chance to read them again for the first time. Remember, no matter how badly you screw up, nobody can play "you" as well as you can! You are absolutely the finest "you" in the world. A casting director’s dream.

I still think I’m awfully young to be so damned old. But I don’t feel like I’ve missed much. I’ve never been to Alaska, and probably never will. But my sister-in-law has never been west of Terre Haute, Indiana, and my brother just died (at 55), and he never got as far as Pittsburgh, so I guess I did all right. I’ll be 50 in June, and that’s not so bad. There were times I didn’t think I’d make it there, either. My eyesight stinks, and it’s getting worse; my teeth are rotting away; my joints ache constantly; and my entire circulatory system is rapidly going south on me. But I can still get a damn good erection (and do something with it!). And how many kids died in Kosovo last year without ever experiencing sex? Or tasting real New York pizza?

I’ve tasted life. I’ve stroked it, fondled it, kicked it, arm-wrestled it. In short, I’ve lived it. I never missed a performance. If I have anything to give to my sons, it’s the knowledge that life is like some strange wad of bubble gum; the more you chew it, the bigger it gets, until one day it’s gone. So chew hard, guys. Don’t be afraid to chew it up. Blow some bubbles while you’re at it. Get your money’s worth!