I just don’t know

I don’t know when I’ll die.

I don’t know if comedy helps people.

I don’t know if the United States Postal Service will be out of business in the next decade.

I don’t know if the rate my hair is thinning has ebbed, or if it will continue at the same rate, or gain momentum.

I don’t know if there were three wise men, or just two, or maybe four, or none.

I don’t know if Mary gave birth to a baby and named him Jesus and he’s the Son of God and whosoever believes in him shall have eternal life.

I don’t know how many artificial sugary foods I can eat before I become diabetic.

I don’t know if Obama Care will be better then what we’ve had.

I don’t know if religion is the cause of all wars.

I don’t know if my cat misses me when I’m away.

I don’t know if my cat would care if I died.

I don’t know which of my core of five friends will die first.

I don’t know which of my core of five friends will die last.

I don’t know if I want to be the first or last of my core of 5 friends to die.

I don’t know how much I should care about money.

I don’t know how much of a nest egg I should have to take me through the end of my life.

I don’t know if you starve a cold and feed a fever.

I don’t know if Steve Jobs really was kind of a dork.

I don’t know when my end-of-life period, the period when death is staring you in the face and there’s no turning back, will begin.

I don’t know how many eight ounces glasses of water one should drink.

Rusty DeWees tours Vermont and Northern New York with his act “The Logger.” His column appears weekly. Reach him at rustyd@pshift.com.

Green Mountain Outlook