BOUNDARIES, RICHES, INHERITANCES, INSURANCE POLICIES - VIEWS OF AN OLD MAN

          It's the 4th of July, American Independence Day, which is like our Canada Day, July 1st  - the only difference is we say, "Happy Canada Day" and they say, "Happy 4th" - because all the rest of the hype is pretty much the same, waving flags, politicians patting each other on the back, exploding fireworks and forever saying proud to be this and proud to be that, etc., etc.  Like every other country before them, there's been countless ship-loads of blood (mega-times larger than the ill-fated Titanic) spilled to draw the imaginary lines that designate the ownership and borders of the US, Mexico and Canada - even states and provinces.  Here, where I live, on 50 acres of semi wilderness land, I also have imaginary lines mapping out our property's borders but hopefully, there wasn't any bloodshed, maybe a little cursing and perhaps still cursing whenever someone crosses over to blast away at a forest creature or cut down a tree.
          There was a time, when I was a typical worshiper of the almighty dollar and just couldn't grab enough of the little sons-a-bitches to bolster up my bank account, actually accumulate more than any one person should really have; yeah, I was a greedy little bastard.  And even now, when I look around at all the stuff I have, especially since so many people in the world have so little, I still feel that way to a certain degree.  However, one thing I didn't do and I'm thankful that I didn't, because I believe a person wasn't meant to just idly sit on their ass in the lap of luxury when they reached their golden-moldy years, have one big-ass holiday because that's what a person gets when they stop working and wind up sitting in a big old, well-padded, cozy recliner in front of a screen (TV or computerized) and that was to put a comfortable retirement package in place.  At this age, 72, knocking real loud and hard at the door, I'm a busy little guy.  I don't have a whole load of ambition to chase the almighty buck any longer; as long as I can earn a few of them with my talents, I'm a pretty happy guy.  I learned the hard way that earning money (although I can't imagine what it would be like with absolutely none), to the point of becoming a millionaire, which was once one of my leading priorities (if not the leading one) in my younger years, should never have become such a life-consuming objective.
          I'm not retired; I'm just tired.  It's odd, I was just sitting outside with my wife Sarah enjoying a cup of coffee, having a wee chin-wagging session about what we've been doing out here since we left lotus-land on the west coast of BC a few years ago.  With what little income we had coming in every month: old age pension and pensions from time put in working at job-jobs over the years, we figured we had enough monthly income to actually squeeze by without having to work at a job-job.  But there must be something wrong with us or perhaps it's the whole human race; we never seem to know when enough is enough.  Like, when I really think about my own basic needs, I believe I've got all the bases covered; food and water in my belly for sustenance, a roof over my head, fuel for warmth against the elements and yes, even at this creaky old age; sex.  So what more do I really need; all the rest just seems to be extras and for what end?  I don't believe it's really called for that parents should keep on accumulating wealth so they can leave it to their kids when they die, especially since most kids did bugger all for the family needs when they were growing up; it's up to them, just like any other creature in the world; they have to learn to make their own way.  There's nothing wrong with helping out but to leave huge quantities of property, cash, stocks and bonds, huge life insurance policies, shit-loads of other assets behind when you die, so whoever receives it all, can just add all that stuff to the stuff they have already accumulated, seems a touch ludicrous to me.
          When I was a rather prominent business man, I once had a life insurance representative approach me about investing in a life insurance policy, which I easily could have afforded at the time.  Just seriously take a moment to think about that statement, which I did at the time, and here's what I told him.  I said, "I really can't see the profit in investing in my own death."  To which, he had no answer, just sort of shuffled some papers he was hoping I would sign, stuttered and mentioned stuff about making sure my wife and loved ones were well looked after when I was gone; tried to make me feel guilty, which I have to add, I sort of did.  At one time, I used to sell antiques (mostly furniture) from a storefront, while I painted signs in the back.  When a customer would come in and sometimes a friend was visiting, he would say, "Don't you think you should try to sell them something?"  I'd just say no, they know where I am if they're interested in buying anything.  I quite often sold antiques to people who didn't have enough cash at the time.  I just let them make payments (no interest charges or storage fees) until it was paid for.  I guess some people wanted to pay for it right away so they borrowed the money from a bank or some other institute because one day, this guy showed up and wanted me to make it easier for the customers to buy my stuff by setting up a loan program.  He seemed a little offended and mystified, when I said no, wasn't interested in the least, just said, "If they can't afford to buy what I'm selling, then they shouldn't be buying it.
          Geesh, I'm beginning to sound like all the other old farts like me, I just keep rambling on and on; don't seem to care if anyone is listening (or in this case reading).  It's time for me to shut up - cheers, eh!