Much to the chagrin of a couple of my friends who came to my birthday party, I announced that I had no plans to pass on. Not just in the near future. In the forever sense. It put a good many of the conversations that might have been had about mortality on the back burner, at least for me. I told anyone who cared to listen that I was pretty sure that I was going to live forever, primarily because I had no anecdotal evidence to the contrary.
Oh sure, there have been plenty before me who haven't managed to lick the whole eternal life problem, but that's everyone else's problem. I've been dropped from heights and wrecked cars and passed out in all kinds of improbable places and yet I've managed to come bounding back like that bunny in the battery commercial, only even more long lasting since the pink rabbit didn't show up until 1989. And, for the record, I've had to dispose of my share of Energizer batteries, so I've already outstripped that particular test of endurance.
In what is generally considered a fairly chaotic universe, I offer up my life as an experiment in the orderly. By knowing where my car keys and glasses are at any given instant throughout the day, as well as those of my wife and son, I feel that I am doing what I can to subvert this notion of inevitable decay. I'm fixing things all the time, and because of my efforts, the house I live in that was built in 1895 continues to stand.
The other anecdotal evidence I have to describe my shot at eternity? Well, I have an iPod that currently holds more than six days of music, and just the other day when I was listening to random songs on the "shuffle" mode, I heard Devo's "Uncontrollable Urge" followed immediately by the live version of that same song. Again, I am the agent of order in this sea of chaos. I believe this is a sign that I will live forever.
Or maybe I have too much Devo on my iPod.