CHAPTER 1
Six months you say. Wow, not very long.
What should I do? No, where will I go?
Yes, where will I go?
Dad's on Jekyll Island so I'll go there.
Yes, Rufus, my dog, and I will go to Jekyll Island.
And, the three of us will have a grand old time.
I've had a charmed life, always, since I was a child. Don't know what it's like not to be in the public eye.
At three I caught a fish, and the fish and I made the front page!
When I was sixteen I was awarded a commendation from NASA for my rockets and mice that flew like the wind. A rocket, a mouse, a transmitter in the rocket, a receiver on the ground and an electrocardiogram to record the brave mouse's heartbeat. Yep, NASA took interest.
At seventeen, when the big three automotive giants were attempting to solve the automotive pollution problem, I solved it with propane and an afterburner.
Those were the days ...
Then at twenty I invented the rear window louver for various import and domestic automobiles and founded McCune Technology.
Being in the light has been the norm. And to think the curtain may be closing.
Sixty. On Earth Day 2014, I'll be 60!
It's been a fun life. Made millions of objects ... touched millions of lives ... met some really great friends.
God, Family and Friends. Makes one feel like a Toyota commercial, "I couldn't ask for anything more ..."
Yep, been a pretty good life.
And Rufus, come to think of it, my dog with almost 200,000 followers on Facebook, is more in the light than me. Rufus is pretty special to me and he's great fun to be around.
Eating wings is also fun. Just about everything can be fun, I guess, because life is what you make of it.
I've accomplished enough. I would have done, or will maybe do, a little more ... but, like Picasso, know when to stop.
It has been a great life.
CHAPTER 2
Finally, a good night's sleep and a new day awaits. The rest of my life is off to a great start. First on the agenda is getting my affairs in order. Don't want to leave a bunch of turmoil and stuff for those left behind.
Funny, how I suspected ... well, something ... and began this exodus a few months ago. I sold my Lotus and accepted an offer on a property that I had hoped to build on; a property that had held some long-cherished dreams.
But all possessions are like anchors on a ship. In the end, a loved one desires to have one, it ends up at an auction, an antique store, a thrift store, given to a stranger, or dumped in a landfill.
I begin by opening drawers. Let's see what we have. The best thing is to have separate boxes for sorting ... classify and decide. ... or just say the hell with it and throw all of this accumulated shit away. ... yes, just leave it to the vultures. That wasn't very nice. Everyone, for the most part, has been pretty good to me.
My possessions ... what do I desire to keep? Keep for what? For whom? A funny idea flickers through my mind: I'll spend the next six months, the last six months, getting rid of accumulated stuff. In the end I'll have peace knowing that all of the chains from all of the anchors have snapped; and, yes, I will be free. Like that old Negro Spiritual, "Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, I'm free at last."
I push the drawer closed and call out, "Rufus, let's go. Ready for a walk?" My faithful companion stares down at me from the bed, hovering over my smiling face. In a flash, off the bed and onto the rug he flies.
I slept great last night! Normally I wake at four and my mind immediately comes to consciousness. Like a flash on a camera ... pop ... I'm wide awake. I start mentally nursing and rehearsing my latest drama. Now, with the possibility of passing on in the near future, there's not much left to worry about. I must be at peace.
The latest Subaru commercial shows an automobile, with its front end completely demolished, sitting on a flatbed tow truck. People at the salvage yard survey the damage and say, "They lived." Then, the family is seen getting out of their new Subaru and the announcer says, "They lived."
Yesterday I saw a minivan that had the hood and front seat pushed into the rear seat. "They died."
To have six months to live, or to die in the twinkling of an eye ... wow; to die at such a rate of speed and time, like the major impact of a car crash or an explosion, is unthinkable. But to be given six months ... now that's a gift.
It allows time for you to get everything together, say your goodbyes, then the last month vanish and die. Compared to the Holocaust, 911, Pearl Harbor or jumping off the Titanic into freezing waters, the thought of an orchestrated death makes sense and is a privilege. I'm sure those who died in catastrophic events, given the choice, would have opted for the six months.
Yesterday I received the information from my urologist, and this morning I had a scheduled appointment to discuss potentially selling my business in the near future. Everything is working out very well, like all the stars are lining up.
I remember having thoughts of suicide in my darkest hours over the years, but I was so busy then I couldn't fit into my schedule and moved on. Suicide is the solution that many people take to cease unbearable mental, physical, or both pains. I've never judged victims of suicide ... I would not desire to feel what they felt. I have no plans of suicide ... at this time.
Most likely I won't make it to the end of the year; did the math and it would be eight months. Healthcare professionals usually tell the patient, "You have a year ... or six months." Yeah, they like to keep it simple. Looks like around Halloween for me. Nothing like planning one's death!
CHAPTER 3
I enjoy playing slot machines. The chance of winning is not as great as the odds of losing; but, still, there lies a chance of winning — and the jackpot. It's a very short-lived success story and lots of fun, and we all know "Everybody loves a winner!"
In the end days will I continue gambling? Most likely. When I'm gambling, all struggles vanish and it's just me and the slot machine. Yep, "Everybody loves a winner!"
I've won and I've lost. Truth be known, I've lost more than I've won. It's hard to beat the house and easy to play back winnings with the anticipation of hitting big on a slot machine.
So let's take prostate cancer — is it a gamble or a statistic? I often say that cancer is five percent genetic and ninety-five percent influenced demographic.
In my case, I do need to take into account that my grandfather died of prostate cancer at 59, and my father also had prostate cancer at 59. My God! Is history repeating itself? Pull that slot machine hard and fast!
I've always heard the pain of cancer is an internal burn. Possibly like cooking tissue. Like living in a microwave on defrost ... a very slow defrost. On the other hand, microwaving could kill the fast replicating malignant cancer cells. Just bet it would ... but then, it might kill the good cells too. So funny how all of this breaks down to bad cells that form bad tissue. And this is the result of bad information being transferred between the cells prior to dividing. Yep, bad stuff ... "Cancer. It's bad stuff."
So, we counteract the bad with the good, and this is the answer: Out with the old and in with the new. New fresh cells that will transfer correct information.
CHAPTER 4
My regret will be leaving Rufus, Jonah, my grandson, and my still in-the-womb granddaughter, Brooke. Life is so fragile ... and Rufus adores me. I look at him now; he's lying on the bed watching and studying my every move while I'm sitting on the couch writing.
Jonah calls me Papa ... and Brooke will read about me.
It has truly been a blessed life; and I'm so thankful to God for all the many doors he's opened and for everyone I was able to meet and touch. It's been a wonderful life.
My father's father died when I was six and my mother's father died when I was ten. I remember them both lying in their caskets while my grandmothers cried and patted their chests. This memory is ingrained in my mind.
It has been a great life. I can remember almost every day of my life — one magnificent adventure after another.
I'm so happy Rufus entered my life. Completely dedicated and love are words that I use to describe him. His whole body wags when he sees me. I'm sure my son, David Jr., will continue with Rufus. Funny how David and I often talk about the fact that Rufus does not know my name, he just knows my presence. He'll miss me ... yet move on.
When I was in third grade, John F. Kennedy died. The world pretty much stopped for a couple of days then continued. I'll have a far less impact on Rufus's life.
Nothing better than a good dog.
I never complain while walking Rufus. In rain, cold, wind, snow and whatever else is dished out, Rufus marches on and just shakes. He continues on, does his business, and when ready is eager to return to the safety of his home. Yep, Rufus is a good little buddy.
He will miss me ...
CHAPTER 5
Step outside the box and follow a dream. One has no limits.
Helen Keller was born with the ability to see and hear. At 19 months old, she contracted an illness that doctors described as "an acute congestion of the stomach and the brain," which might have been scarlet fever or meningitis. The illness left her both deaf and blind. Being deaf and blind in a visual, audible world is an almost unsurmountable challenge.
Helen Keller was an American author, political activist and lecturer. She was the first deaf and blind person to earn a Bachelor of Arts degree. Helen Keller stepped outside the box and succeeded in the endeavors that were placed before her.
Did Helen Keller's obstacles of being blind and deaf lead her to success?
Five years ago I was one of the performers in Dancing with the Fayetteville Stars. Often fluctuating between the personalities of an introvert and an extrovert I was a little apprehensive about my performance, wondering what mental state I would exhibit to the seated audience.
In the end I did okay. Nothing spectacular ... but I danced.
A year later my son, David Jr., danced in the event.
Just do it!
This evening I'm one of the four judges for Dancing with the Fayetteville Stars. I thought about this night last year, visualized the experience, and now here I sit this evening.
At last night's rehearsal my wit came forth. I hope to capture it again tonight.
Go for the dream, visualize and accept.
For the past six years I designed and created the trophies for all the participants and winners. What about next year? Will there be a seventh dancing with the stars?
The presence and the absence of life!
And what do we leave behind to others when we're gone?
CHAPTER 6
Deciding that now is a good time to clean out the car, I remove three coats and hang them up inside the house with the rest of my coats. Why do I need all of these coats? Why do I need all of these clothes? I wash the same ones over and over again.
All of this stuff. What will become of all my stuff?
Four years ago my mother died of complications as a result of Alzheimer's and my father moved into an assisted living facility. I was left to deal with a house, a garage and an attic full of their stuff. Why had my mother saved used vintage postage stamps?
Now is the time to throw things away.
Headline ... quote, "With six months to live man spends remainder of life throwing away what he accumulated." Speaking from the experience of dealing with my parents' house, it would have been a nice gesture on their part.
Alas, I deal with my mission at hand, concentrating on the sorting and the classifying:
What will be given to a specified relative for them to keep or deal with?
What can I give away?
What is yard sale material?
How much will the sanitation workers pick up?
Now with a plan I begin to execute my mission, set up numerous large boxes, and start separating everything.
Did I find a treasure?
The best article I've found is my grandfather's World War I handmade dog tag, which I tucked into my wallet. That's about it — just stuff — stuff for me and stuff for the recipients and their recipients to deal with at another point in our precious time.
We're told that one man's trash is another man's treasure. I need to start giving things away now. And where do we hide most of our stuff? It's stashed in drawers, closets, attics, basements, garages; and for those of us fortunate to rent one, it's even in large storage lockers. ... well, shame on us for what we've placed on our recipients.
I sometimes think it's better to live like you're renting a beach house. At the end of the week you leave it all behind and return to the anchoring stuff at home.
A vacation temporarily frees one from stuff.
With all the boxes gone, my next project is to remodel my home, to make it marketable in a stagnant real estate market. Great! Now I have to paint my town house, too.
This is sort of reminds me of my suicide thought: "I could not find the time!"
So busy with cleanup I'll have to postpone death!
CHAPTER 7
Here I am, sitting in Unit 138 at Villas by the Sea on Jekyll Island, Georgia. To my left is the Atlantic Ocean, waves rolling in and pushing foam along the sand. The view in front of me and to my right is a breathtaking, beautifully-landscaped green space. It's like living in an art gallery, the perfect place to spend my last days. And in the midst of all this joy "Forest Gump" is playing on the flat screen.
What more is needed?
I begin to wonder how I ended up where I am today. How did I get here? Life is just a series of events and to find the reason why, one must backtrack time. I'm in the best place I can be today — on Jekyll Island — but how and why am I here?
The answer is simple: I followed my destiny.
Strange how people we meet can complete a direction. And they can begin a direction ... that's it. I ended up on Jekyll Island, in part, because Menno, a local neurologist had the idea to buy an old historic hotel in downtown Fayetteville, North Carolina. I bought into his plan and became an investor in the project. The newly organized hotel became a Radisson. On Jekyll Island, Georgia, the nationally acclaimed historic hotel is also a Radisson, and the Fayetteville owners were all given a Radisson owner's club card.
Twenty-two years ago my family had discovered the beauty and romance of Jekyll Island. Now, all these years later, we have three villas on the island. Rufus and I live here in Unit 138.
A story can take one many places ... is this a turn in my story, on this Easter weekend? I'd like to think it is.
CHAPTER 8
When I was two, my mother took me with her to visit a friend. The friend's husband and my Dad worked together at DuPont. To my surprise, when we arrived there was an interesting little person standing before me. Her name was Michele Freeze, and this is my first memory of a girl.
My brother, Bob, was five and he'd only had male friends over to the house since my birth. I looked at Michele and was intrigued. I remember visiting with her about once a month after that. The contact continued for a year, then seemed to drift away and I never saw her again.
And so was my life ... perhaps searching for Michelle.
Strange, how this evening Dad mentioned Michelle and her family. It makes no sense that almost sixty years later, he brings her name up today.
Very strange.
Dad, David Jr., Rufus, my famous dog, and I are at Jekyll Island for Easter and Forest Gump is on TV all day or all week — must be a Forest Gump celebration.
Life is fragile, and time and place are one. All time, place and conceptions bring us to where we are. Is all of this destiny? Are all of our lives choreographed to one moment ... this moment?
I'm on Jekyll Island as a result of past places, times and past generations.
Like grass ... my destiny grows.
