Merce! Merce!

Merce Cummingham is one of my most respected choreographers. And I just got an email asking me to roll the dice on stage for their company's performance tomorrow night at stanford. Rolling dice? That does not make sense, you might say. Well, if you know Merce's work, it is no brainer. Anyway, I might see him in person tomorrow even, maybe get a signature or two, or a photo, or shake his hand before he dies. No ill meaning though. He is just VERY OLD.
It is sad for me to see those great dancers getting old. All the glamor surrendered to the natural rule of aging, making me wonder what life is all about. Do they have regret about a jump they missed or a turn they fumbled on stage? Now that they can no longer make those up because they can hardly standing up. What about my aging? It sounds like a very horrible idea to me. I do not care about winkles or other cosmatic things. But what if I can no longer dance, no longer run the campus loop, no longer swim, and even no longer walk from the one side to the other side of the campus. My current mentality would not be able to handle this nightmare. But you know what, time will change, and I will be fine.
I had a very busy day today, but happy day of course, after finishing the god-damn second draft. Working on a couple of different project for some extra cash, and I think I am over-stating the hours of work. But what the heck, bring down this evil capitalist empire is my duty as a communist party member.
I need to do tax tonight. I have put it off for a while.