Yes, and these are the days of our lives.

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Steve Jobs’ death was a surprise, but not so much of one. He’d been ill for a while, and the foreshadowing was fairly evident when he stepped down in August. He looked bad, although the spark was still there.
In a way perhaps not so odd, it reminded me of Freddie Mercury’s death in 1991 from AIDS-related complications. It came prior to the Internet era of instant information and incessant speculation, and Mercury made no public mention of his illness until the day before he died. But he continued working until very near the end, and the videos for Queen’s final album, Innuendo, clearly signaled something was amiss.
Mercury was 45, Jobs 56. At 51, I’m right in between, having achieved very little in life compared to them. I’ve no reason to believe I’m anything other than healthy, and yet this mortality gig can be daunting … daunting, indeed.

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