It seems like at least once a week, one of my childhood heroes passes away. Whether it's an athlete, movie star or just simply someone whos work I have admired. This morning, Dennis Hopper passed on at the age of 74. At least he was finally given his star on the Walk of Fame this past March. I realise that I am no longer a young man and that anybodys turn could be next. It has all gone by so quickly, my father is 87 and we just moved him into a seniors residence. Life sucks and then you die. The point I'm trying to make is that one day, you just wake up and see that life has run it's course. Yesterday, my father told my sister and I that he didn't know anybody at the residence. The reason being is that, at his age, he's outlived most of his friends and family. We are all back in our hometown- all of us, that's what is so scary. When I was younger, raising hell, treating my body like I'll be leaving here soon and not caring about much, I never figured getting old was in the equation. Now, reality sets in and everything looks so damn serious.