Bubba’s Living Will: To Whom It May Concern

Notes from Bubba’s Beach
T. "Bubba" Bechtol

I, Bubba, being of sound mind and body, do not wish to be kept alive indefinitely by artificial means.

Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the hands of peckerwood politicians who couldn’t pass ninth-grade biology if their lives depended on it. If I have assumed room temperature, get over it and bury my large white self.

If a reasonable amount of time passes and I fail to sit up and ask for a "col-beah", it should be presumed that I won’t do so ever again. If I can’t drink beer, I don’t want to live.

When a decision is reached, I hereby instruct my wife, children and attending physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes and call it a day. Go home, don’t feel bad, it’s your job.

Under no circumstances shall the members of the State Legislature enact a special law to keep me on life-support machinery. It is my wish that these boneheads mind their own business, and pay attention instead to the health, education and future of the millions of Americans who aren’t in a permanent coma and who nonetheless may be in need of nourishment. Feed them, take care of them, again....do your job.

Under no circumstances shall any politicians enter into my case. I don’t care how many fundamentalist votes they’re trying to scrounge for their run for the Governor in the next election, it is my wish that they play politics with someone else’s life and leave me alone to die in peace.

If certain parts of me don’t respond, consider my total body done in. Bubba only has two emotions, hungry and "fiesty" as my Grandmother used to call it, so if you find me in need of Viagra,... make me a sandwich! If I can’t respond to either, bury me quickly, I’m not here any longer.

I couldn’t care less if a hundred religious zealots send emails to legislators in which they pretend to care about me. I don’t know these people, and I certainly haven’t authorized them to preach and/or crusade on my behalf. They should mind their own business, as well.

Use the mirror test, put it under my nose and if it don’t fog up, pull every plug in my body. I can’t wait to see what is next in the continuing saga that is me! Don’t cry over me, because I’m dead....Rejoice that I was once here, and don’t every think about calling me a vegetable, I’m a meat eater!

Just use some common sense here Bubba, I don’t want to be kept alive if I can’t smile when someone yells, "Bubba’s Here!" Just bury me and move on.

Just thought you’d like to know.....