Brewster Rockit by Tim Rickard for June 22, 2019

They made a difference in the paper.

Even worse – that’s the obituaries in a printed newspaper. Not as many of those left, either.

Sadly, there were no spare parts for them and their software no longer had updates.

My father’s been checking the obituaries every day for the past twenty odd years. So far, he hasn’t been in them.

So, how many of em got turned into a toaster?

Another one bites the dust!

Check your optical circuits – the newspaper is blank!

“I wake up each morning and dust off my wits,

Open the paper and read the obits.

If I’m not there, I know I’m not dead,

So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed."

Chorus

“How do I know my youth is all spent?

My get up and go has got up and went.

But in spite of it all, I’m able to grin,

And think of the places my get up has been."

He’s reading the robotuaries.

“Amazing though, how many of them went into the scrap business.”

“They were turned into scrap…”

As long as you don’t see your own name there, you’re good to go.

Ow – that bytes!

I saw the punchline from panel 1.

As long as they spell my name right…

My daughter-in-law wondered how I got Lexi to sleep so well. I explained I read the obituaries to her. It first sounded morbid to her until I explained each tended to praise the high points in each one’s life, not how they died.

(My cousin took a good fifteen minutes (of her 45) during the eulogy going over the details of an uncle’s death. Another took some thirty minutes also explaining HE was their father’s favorite. Finally the eldest, the one who was named after him asked if HE could speak. We prepared for an even longer afternoon. I memorized his words — unlike theirs — “I’d just like to say Daddy had five children, all of whom loved him very much.” Sheilah and Jim waited for more, but Wayne sat back down. He had said all he thought needed saying.)

Well, sh*t! There goes my retirement!