In a world of my own creating, I would be meeting Keith Richards tonight for a drink.
We would sit at a bar and he could tell me what it means to be a survivor and how, in fact to survive.
And then he would probably laugh and laugh his deep slurry laugh and his face would show all of the carved-out crevices of the 73 years of a life that few have ever seen or lived and maybe, if I was lucky, he'd reach over and touch the back of my hand and say, "It's okay. I've seen worse. Trust me."
And if I had any wits about me at all at that point, I would thank him and say, "I believe you."
And that's all I have to say tonight.