As I approach the certainty of my death, as certain as April 15 is tax day, I have become concerned about my legacy. I am not concerned about what I have accomplished; that is on the history books, such that it is. My concern is what my children will find among my stuff when they have to clean up my mess. I have already thrown anything I do not want them to find: my extensive collection of Playboy magazines, my file of angry letters to the editors of various newspapers, and my little black book of women I have dated.
What troubles me the most is what they may find on my computer. I have taken care to delete everything I do not want them to find. Once again, any pornography, nasty e-mails, my Google search history, and dumb jokes from my old Army buddies. What I am working on now is what I want them to find--my digital legacy.
I have downloaded every e-book I can find on quantum physics, astronomy, and Chinese. I have inserted little comments in the margins that agree with or dispute certain points. On the Chinese book, I have highlighted passages throughout the book. I have written e-mails to famous people like President Obama, Stephen Hawkins and Rush Limball. More importantly, I have written their replies. Never mind that they never received the e-mail and never wrote me back. My children do not need to know that. In their replies, these celebrities agree with my comments and encourage me to continue my efforts.
I have created a file of certificates and awards from numerous agencies; Windows has many templates. These include awards from the CIA and FBI for the undercover work that I have done. All the astronauts signed one award. Another award is from the CDC for finding a cure for a rare disease to be named later.
Now that I have started this effort, I have to continue every day. My premature death must interrupt some project of monumental importance or, at least seem so. I want to make my kids proud.
