Last Man

I am in a Last Man Club. Those were popularized by World War I Veterans. Groups organized by stateside location or by war time units would have reunions. Typically the President of the club might hold a bottle of champagne that would be passed along to survivor Presidents until the Last Man left alive would drink it. My Club is a little different. Like Donald Trump, I am not a veteran and I hate to lose. So I rigged my Club to ensure my Presidency in perpetuity. I have a Last Man Trophy and each time a friend dies, I posthumously induct a member and engrave his name on the trophy. I acquired the trophy in 1996, shortly after my friend Casey died. Since then I have inducted a few dozen others who have predeceased me including Gordy, Jack, Steve, Jim, Dennis, Dave, Don, Jamie, Peter, Randy, Kevin, John, Blaine, and Ken. The trophy will be at my funeral. It will validate that I had many friends. I have asked my wife to keep a watchful eye on anyone who survives me. They are not in my Last Man Club. They might attempt to steal the trophy while attending my Wake and fraudulently try to continue the Club in violation of the Club Constitution. Her job is to thwart any such maneuver. So far my wife has been remarkably disinterested in her assignment. She seems fed up with my antics. I may have to outlive her to make this work.