I finished the process of getting some extra life insurance. I have had life insurance through my work for many years - getting life insurance via the company is easy...all I have to do is check a box each year that says, "Can we take more of your paycheck?"
However I realized recently if the company were to kick me to the curb before God hopefully kicks my butt upstairs I wouldn't have any life insurance to provide for Amy and the kids.
A month or so ago I got ticked off at Allstate when they tripled the "fee" they charge me because I allow them to automatically deduct our auto and home premiums from our bank account and when a friend dipped his toe into the insurance biz I opted to throw our money his way instead. It's a much better deal. It works out that we'll be paying less than I was paying Allstate except the policies will include the house, two cars instead of one and I have the added life insurance. It pays to shop around.
Still it was one of those adult decisions that I normally try to avoid - I want to get to Heaven as much as the next guy, but in truth planning for it is a lot more fun if I can surround the process with prayer, a few hymns and maybe a sermon...if it's brief.
Today a nurse or EMT or someone licensed to do this type of stuff came by the house to get an EKG, grab happy samples of my urine and blood, get several blood pressure readings and verify that I've put back on 15 pounds since I've been lazy and started saying, "It's too freakin' hot to walk!" She then asked all sorts of personal questions which will be converted into statistics and plugged into a computer that will determine if I'm a good bet to live for 10 years. Much like Vegas the company will take the bet no matter what - but they'll do their best to tilt the odds in favor of "the house."
All the tests looked good - the questions made me realize that I have a serious vice deficiency...and the scale -which I swear is skewed - made me vow to get back into the routine of walking.
All in all I suppose this was a positive experience...still I'm sort of melancholy.
Earlier today I was cleaning the church with my friend Roy, who - as he puts it - has had "two or three" heart attacks and "doesn't even buy green bananas." Roy told me he's uninsurable so instead he's invested in, "a piece of dirt" - the plot where his Mom is buried along with a grandson and other young relations he carries the sorrow of out-living. The "piece of dirt" is in a Catholic cemetery down the road from our church. Two Archbishops are buried there, I don't know if Roy knows that or not...Roy is not now, nor has he ever been Catholic, but he told me, "I like it there...I've got friends there." You don't have to be Catholic to have a "piece of dirt there" anyway. I should add some of Roy's friends are still above ground ...he knows several guys who work at the place...he stops by to visit them some days.
Anyway my good friend Roy told me he's got his spot all picked out beneath a big old oak tree and he's happy.
And all I've been thinking about ever since is that some days I don't like being a grown-up.
