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Perchance to Dream

I read today that Bill Gates has retired. Reporters seem to be focusing on all that Mr. Gates has contributed to computing/modern technology, and while that’s very interesting, no one seems to be discussing what history’s richest man will be doing in retirement.

Bill seems to have limitless possibilities on how to enjoy his downtime, but since he’s been so busy he probably hasn’t given it much thought. To help him brainstorm some ideas, I’ve scratched out an itinerary of what I would do on my first day of retirement as the world’s richest man:

Noon: R2-D2 alarm clock (complete with Kenny Baker) wakes you up with a cheerful Paul McCartney tune, written personally for you. R2 informs you that your stocks made another $100 million overnight, all without you lifting a finger. You’re outraged by this-You’re supposed to be retired, and that means no working, even if it was done for you by someone else while you were sleeping. You inform Kenny that his services are no longer needed.

Morning exercise: Bike ride with Lance Armstrong. It’s one of those two-seater bikes, except you’re not doing any peddling. Mr. Armstong doesn’t mind, because you’ve promised that a new cloned testicle awaits him at the finish line. This is a lie.

2 pm-Dallas cheerleading squad sponge bath

3 pm-Lunch prepared by Emeril. It’s just some EZ Mac, but you wanted it heated-up by Emeril. You pretend to care as he laments about missing his daughter’s wedding.

4 pm-Your assistant informs you that he’s begun acquiring items on your list of “Things It Would Be Fun To Put Up On eBay.” The Shroud of Turin is already fetching a pretty nice lump of dough, with Ted Turner as the current high bidder.

7 pm-Conference call with Korean scientists. Your Lassie clone is coming along nicely. Unfortunately, Timmy #7 isn’t fairing so well.  The arm growing out of its mouth couldn’t be removed, so it was euthanized. They’re optimistic about Timmy #8, however.  You tell them they better be, because what the hell use is a Lassie clone without Timmy? What are they, crazy?

8 pm-Downtime with some video games. You play the classic “Super Mario Brothers” game. Not the Nintendo version, mind you; you’ve hired Broadway actors to dress as plumbers, and you control them using a special remote. You fully realize what an awesome idea this was as they begin to jump on dwarves dressed as mushrooms.

9 pm-Update: Timmy #8 went berserk and ransacked the lab, killing nine scientists and maiming countless others. Arghh! You just can’t find good help these days.

10 pm-Bedtime. Morgan Freeman reads you a bedtime story written for you by a chimp implanted with Shakespeare’s brain. The stories have been pretty good so far, but you’re growing tired of plots being resolved by the throwing of fecal matter.

I hope you’ve found this useful, Mr. Gates. If you require further assistance, you may commission me as a “Billionaire Retirement Spending Time Specialist.” E-mail me for resume.

JH

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