It’s funny where life takes you.
Forty three years ago I received my draft notice and at that time felt that it was the end of the world. My mother, certain that I would be killed in Vietnam, offered me a “last supper” of anything I wanted.
I chose tortillas and lamb chops.
And lobster, if I recall. With lots of butter.
Come to think of it at least by Hollywood movies, that does sound like something a condemned man would pick for a last meal.