An old man was reminiscing. He pondered, I remember, many years ago, that ex-wife of mine came home from a department store with one of those new-fangled "living" bras.
After a day or two, she declared that it was the best, most comfortable and most wonderful bra she had ever worn.
As a result, she took the best care possible with it. She would wash it in the mildest soap, rinse it in the purest water and carefully hung it in the sun to dry. Every night she would carefully hang it on the bedpost where it would be handy for her in the morning.
We thought it was a very happy "living" bra.
However, one morning, tragedy struck. We awoke to find the "living" bra had died. At first we thought it had died of natural causes, but soon discovered it had committed suicide, for it had left a note saying that "Sorry, but I couldn't go on living an empty life."