In 10 years I will be alive, and kicking, and being a pain in the ass. I hope I get to do it on Mars.
The Mars One people want to establish a permanent colony on the fourth planet from the Sun, and they're looking for people who are willing to tear their life apart. I'm sending them a vid, and here's the gist of it:
Mars needs me, and I need Mars. Never mind that the Red Planet and RED are meant to be together — this is the culmination of my life's work.
Someone asked me tonight what I wanted, what my desires are for the future. I spouted off about happiness and love, but it really comes down to this: I want to go away.
I've spent 52 years on this planet, and most of them have been fulfilling. I've excelled in my chosen profession. I've become a character in a book. I've been shot at, smoked fine Cuban cigars, hung up on Bob Barker. I've loved wonderful women and they have loved me. I met my fate and lost her ... and survived to tell the tale. Most boys only dream of the life I've led.
What better time to pull an Elvis and leave the building?
I want to seize the opportunity and the mystery. As one character says in Another Earth: "What else? What new? What now?"
I don't know the answers to those questions, but I'm the best guy around to find out.
Besides, Barrow, Alaska, wasn't far enough. It's only 3,219 miles. Maybe 34 million miles will work better.