Inspired by Elton John, a mere six years my senior, I have also decided to announce the start of my farewell tour. But rather than three years, I intend that my farewell tour go on for twenty or thirty. Indeed, my Farewell Black Asphalt Driveway Tour will last as long as I can pull out a piano bench, but then wisely push it back in and instead find an interesting art gallery to visit and a fun place to have lunch with my wife.
My twenty-or-thirty-year farewell tour grants me a long opportunity to say thank you to my hundreds of fans and friends. (Okay, not hundreds. More like a handful.) But I will not wait to the end of my tour to express appreciation to all those who somehow have overlooked my faults and remained my friends. First things first, and the first thing is love — that will be the motto of my farewell tour. The second thing will be humor, which is fitting, as humor always seems to be an afterthought around here.
When one announces a farewell tour, thoughts naturally turn to opportunities wasted and hurts unintended. But let us all be positive about this — or as positive as anyone might be upon hearing of a farewell tour by one so beloved (ahem) as myself. Positives you say? What might the positives be? First, I will continue to publish blog posts for the foreseeable future, in spite of my having no foreseeable rise in readership. Second, I will keep writing inscrutable poems and the occasional one-panel comic. Third, I will continue to design and produce The 100 Billionth Person branded items for my fans to briefly cherish before they regift them to their casual work friends. (Contact me if interested in those items.) Finally, I will offer refunds for the tickets to all those performances I had to cancel due to circumstances beyond my control, like all the times that the arena accidentally scheduled me and Lady Gaga to perform on the same day and the same time but she showed up first. I feel really bad about that and I want to make it up to you.
Some of you are questioning what warrants my confidence in scheduling and completing a twenty-to-thirty-year Farewell Black Asphalt Driveway Tour. If I make it, then I make it. If I don’t, the loss will be mine, not yours. Just don’t expect a ticket refund.