One of my favorite segments of the "Wizard of Id" comic strip shows a life insurance salesman being presented to the king. The skeptical king asks, "What's life insurance?" The salesman answers, "Well, your majesty, think of it as a wagering game...we bet that you'll live long enough to pay us more money in premiums than we'll have to pay you in benefits." The king asks, "What happens if I die young?" And the salesman says, "You win!"

I had reason to think about this old cartoon this past weekend, when a nice lady named Greta came to my house in the service of a company that's trying to decide whether it's safe to insure me. This is one of those little indignities that comes once one is over the magical age of 50...life insurance companies assume that you are a dead man walking, and want to assure themselves that you're not going to keel over next week and cost them a lot of money. Thus, they send out platoons of nice ladies like Greta to visit prospective customers and ask lots of personal questions, measure lung capacity, check weight, and collect...um... "samples."

Now, I can sympathize with the insurance companies up to a point, but I think you can understand that my idea of a fun Saturday morning does not generally include sitting at my kitchen table having my blood pressure checked and my blood drawn. I seldom object to having the undivided attention of an attractive lady, but when she's holding my hand only to check my pulse and blood pressure, it takes some of the gloss off.

Oh, well...I guess it's a good thing that she came this past weekend, instead of in another month or two when my real estate tax bill comes due...then, my blood pressure and general stress level would have been through the roof, and her employer would have run screaming from the opportunity to insure me.

No offense, Greta, but I'd rather dance with you than fill little plastic cups for you.

If you're under 50, this is what you have to look forward to. Have a good day, anyhow. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo