I came across this unhappy story the other day, and it got me to thinking about my own inevitable demise, something I do occasionally during pleasant, idle moments. I asked myself -- and I ask you, readers:
1. Ideally, how will you go?
Given my druthers, I'd like to die in my sleep after a big dinner party the night before, where I get to spend time with lots of friends and family, eat an enormous, delicious meal, and laugh till my face hurts from smiling so much. If I have to die tragically, I hope it's via something like a nuclear explosion, which will at least have the benefit of being quick.
2. What will your funeral or memorial service be like?
I hope some people cry, because while I hate to upset folks, it would upset me to think that no one would miss me enough to shed a tear. The best and most obvious way to honor my memory will be to serve copious amounts of fatty foods; my friend Sherri has already promised to make these stuffed mushrooms in my honor. When the storytelling starts, I will be glad I'm gone, because things will quickly become embarrassing: "Hey, do you remember the time she _____? How lame was that?"
3. What will become of your earthly remains?
I want to be cremated. Beyond that, I don't care what happens to me. I used to think it would be funny to sprinkle my ashes around town in public ashtrays, but those things are becoming scarce as the anti-smoking laws get tougher. I guess someone could throw me in the compost bin. If someone wanted to keep a little box of my ashes forever in the back of their closet or something, I would be touched. Sean told me he wants me to throw his ashes into the faces of his enemies while shouting, "Here! That's from Sean! In fact, that is Sean!"
*** UPDATE 12:49 P.M. ***
Here's an option I'd never considered! (Scroll down to "A Pirate's (After) Life for Me.")