I'm thinking about another writing project.

I know, I haven't finished the detective poems yet. But the world's oldest man died this weekend and now there's a new one. "Apparently."

I keep thinking of this "world's oldest man" in the context of a Miss America or a Nobel Prize, where the winner is selected from a long list of candidates. Or maybe it's the same dude. Or maybe we're all on a train about to collide with a semi-truck, and instead the semi is split in half and we end up waiting in the desert for three hours waiting for a new engine, with no air conditioning in the dining car.

And every year there's some new advice from the World's Oldest Man about how to live longer.