From my wife’s apartment in Cascais (Portugal) there is a road,
flanked by banks and hairdressers, leading into the centre of
the town. I walk this road every day after six, to reach a bodega
at the end of the road. I met an old lady and noticed she had
a tag with her address and picture around her neck. And since
I had seen her many times and she had noticed me, I asked why
She was wearing the tag. She said that if she should suddenly
die, people would know where she lived and know what to do.
As typical for old people she also told me her age, eighty eight.
She was quite feisty, hoped to live to be a hundred and fu*k up
her relatives' dreams of riches, when they eventually get her
money, they will be too old to enjoy them.