My house will be filthy, with urine stains on every floor, stacks of National Geographics to the ceiling, half-eaten tins of cat food but no cats, and plaster walls that are decaying and crumbling around me. Many of you probably hope for a similar future. We'd all like to map out our golden years and live them as we dream, but we can't unless we plan. I've already started throwing pebbles at ducks and yelling at neighbor kids. Next year, I want to start poisoning squirrels, and the year after, if Mrs. Filthy lets me, I'll start wetting myself.
Preparation is the key.
You can't go around today humping starlets, paying to have your SUV detailed and buying Hallmark Greeting Cards if you want to be a kooky old fuck tomorrow. It's the story of a nutjob in Iowa with more dignity than any prick you can throw at him. He sets his goals and he achieves them, and only a motherfucking asshole would question why. Richard Farnsworth is Alvin Straight, a 73 year-old man with diabetes and emphysema. Laurens is the kind of town where the old guys get together every day, no matter if they like each other or not, because it's all they have to do.