Don't cry for me. I'm already dead.

I'm going for my once-a-decade physical on Thursday. I know I have high cholesterol because I've had it for 10 years and ain't done nothin' about it. I know I have high blood pressure because my dentist(!) takes my BP every six months, and it's been high for over a year. I assume I have prostate cancer because I have what old-man prostate-medication commercials call "increased urgency." I also have a lump in my chest that I'm pretty sure is not love-related.

So here are my short-term life goals:

1. Survive to see the April 5 Springsteen concert in Austin. If he pulls me onstage to dance, I can die immediately after that song and be happy.

2. Survive to complete the rockumentary my friend MWing and I are producing about the defunct rock band Bigloo. But if I don't make it, I'm counting on you, my loyal readers, to make sure MWing doesn't leave me out of the credits when he finishes the film. That guy can't be trusted. More than a few of his past filmmaking partners have mysteriously disappeared from the film credits. And from this Earth.

3. Survive to spend at least two weeks gloating about the Longhorns football team winning a national championship next January.

4. Survive until January 2011 to gloat about back-to-back championships.

5. Survive until December 21, 2012, so we can all die together at the end of the world.

But again, Springsteen is the most important thing on the list. His music will probably cure what ails me. Until then, enjoy my life story: