On December 5, 2004, his 98th birthday, George and I were sitting and chatting in his room at the convalescent center where he was recovering from a fall, discussing his birthday party the day before. He had thought he wanted a lemon meringue pie for his birthday but said he had a dream the night before about a chocolate cake. His daughter Margie baked him the chocolate cake instead, and he seemed very pleased with himself about going with one of his dreams. Later we discussed the next selection for the George Saslow book club (a book about Easter Island) and he showed me another new book he was reading on the life of Stalin. Nearly 100 years old, he hasn’t stopped dreaming, he hasn’t stopped learning, and he has defied death on at least four separate occasions that I can remember in the past 25 years. He continues to read all the time, loves to discuss literature, history, politics, and psychiatry with his characteristically broadminded, scholarly, and honest passion (rare in these times). Dr. Saslow has also been in practice since the early 40s and still sees a few patients, attends grand rounds regularly, and as I write this, serves as the psychiatrist on The Oregon Psychiatric Security Review Board. I was somehow geographically blessed, for some