I wanted to make you laugh. Last week was pretty heavy, what with my lament on the possible extinction of the American Dream. So this week, I was going to describe funny people and situations I’ve encountered tripping around Lake Havasu and Laughlin for the past couple days.

But then on Wednesday, October 5, we lost one of the most amazing Boomers ever. Steve Jobs, Dreamer, Dictator, Tech-Boss-In-Chief, passed away, assumedly due to cancer. Apple and we are left to figure out what will replace him. Probably nothing and no one.

One of the things Jobs was known for was his motivational quotes. Here’s a creepy one:

“Remembering that you are going to die is the best way to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose.”

What do you feel when you read that?

I have two reactions. The first is that he’s wrong. Sometimes I think all we have is the certainty that there IS something to lose. The love and respect of our family and community, and the chance to leave something of good and lasting value to them, for example.

Or maybe he was saying you only have so much time. Get it done. You don’t know how much time you have left.

Jobs was an imperfect Buddhist who didn’t worry about karma biting him on the ass for his bad behavior He wasn’t warm and fuzzy. More like vindictive, territorial and secretive. Did you know he’s been married for twenty years and had three kids from that marriage? Me neither. And yet look at all he gave the world, how far he helped us evolve.

It bums me out that Jobs, only one year younger than me, doesn’t exist anymore, at least in the corporeal realm. And this leads to one of the biggest mysteries: what happens to all the material you accumulate in your brain, all the effort you exert to learn about things. Where does all that effort go? I like to believe some part of it goes with you to the next life cycle but we’ll never know. There’s at least a possibility it dies with you, that there is no reincarnation into the energy of the next soul who will be farther along his journey thanks to you.

In writing you’re told to not hold back, to give it all away right up front. Maybe that’s your hedge against dying. Just in case there is no afterlife, you can at least pass something of yourself on. It’s like insurance, and you might even be able to help a nice young person achieve greater heights than s/he would have alone.

So go ahead, mentor somebody. Share what you know. Pour your knowledge into someone else’s mind. Guarantee your own immortality. Pass it on.

Just in case.

Kindle readers can email me at Lmspreen@gmail.com.