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Kenneth Sibbett January 2012  Marty sat at his desk at home,
watching the kids across the street playing a game. It looked
like “You’re It,” a game he had played as a child. He smiled
remembering how terrible he was at it.  It’s funny what you
remember on your birthday. Yeah, he was 50-years-old today and
going through a mid-life crisis. Everyone reads about them, but
until you get there, you just don’t know. He had worked hard as
an insurance salesman years before opening his own company,
which had been very successful. He knew everyone wanted
insurance, whether or not they could afford it. No one wants to
think of their parents or wife having to take out a loan or sell
their very house in order to bury them. Most people, at least,
bought the minimum package, enough to have a proper burial. If
Marty had any regrets, if was not investing his money in a few
funeral homes, goldmines that they were. The biggest mark-ups in
the world, trading on the