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Post mortem

 BEAR: Looking back at the time right after Liz died, I don't know how I navigated all the legal things I had to do.

HOOKER: I hear you.

BEAR: And it's the worse possible time to have to make decisions on legal matters. Fortunately my son stepped up to the plate and really helped me. I try to remember that whenever I'm throwing mental daggers at him for seldom calling me. You didn't have kids to help, how did you do it?

HOOKER: Our financial profiles have always been pretty simple. No wall street or investment brokers or real estate for us. We're certainly not your typical capitalist.

BEAR: I always thought of you as a socialist. In the closet maybe.

HOOKER: Not a socialist. Not a member of any political group. I call myself a Transcendentalist. How many of those have you met?

BEAR: Hooker, you definitely are one of a kind.

HOOKER: Back to post mortem legal hoops. There's a lot of that that could be done before anyone dies. And get rid of redundancies. How many times did you have to put down your wife's social security number? Or just plain nonsense. For decades an institution treats you as married. Your spouse dies and what do they want? Proof that you're married. A marriage license! 

BEAR: Doing the legal things was definitely a challenge.

HOOKER: Much more than that. It shows that institutions don't give a hoot that you're grieving, they just want their information.

BEAR: Most do send condolences.

HOOKER: How much are they worth?

(Pause.)

BEAR: I try to look on the bright side of things.

HOOKER: I've noticed that about you. I'd pray for you if I were a praying man.

BEAR: Why would you do that?

HOOKER: You're living in fantasyland.

BEAR: Well, I think YOU'RE living in fantasyland.

(Pause.)

HOOKER: More coffee?

(End,)



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