The one topic of discussion in my house lately has been death. Specifically mine. We’re not getting into the actual details of my death, though I’m sure my family would be willing to discuss it.
“I think Dad is going to have an aneurism by the time he’s thirty five. But, see, he’ll be driving at the time. He’ll survive the brain event, but his car will leap off a cliff into a river, float down the river into the Gulf, go out to sea, burst into flames and then be consumed by a Blue Whale. We’ll miss you Dad.”
Yeah. Actually, the truth is, we’ve been looking at a variety of options for life insurance. Specifically, my life insurance. More specifically, when I die, how much is that worth to my family?
Your Dad just died? $500,000
His Burial? $3 in cardboard and elbow grease in the back yard
The enjoyment of spending $499,997 in death money? Priceless.
It’s a difficult time when you have to put a price on your own head. You are afraid of mentioning a price too high because your insurance agent, or worse, your wife, will laugh at you.
“Ha ha. Very funny. No, seriously, we were thinking about $19.83.”
But these discussions make you think about death in ways you never thought possible. How will you die? When? Will you be wearing pumps or a sensible sneaker?
I realized, however, that new life insurance may be the best thing that ever happened to me. After all, there will be an entire company, an entire company that doesn’t want me to die. In fact, it is in their best interest that I stay alive. I think that’s pretty cool.
I’m hoping they’ll call me every day to see how I feel. And they’ll send me things to keep me happy. That’s what a good life insurance company should do. Conspire to keep you alive at all costs. In fact, I’m going to have them drive me around everywhere I go. You can’t be too careful. And they can sit next to the treadmill to make sure I get in my full workout. “Stop! Don’t eat those potato skins!”
Thank you Mr. Insurance guy. I’m glad that you care about me. At least, you care enough not to want to pay out in the event of my death.
Still, the talk about death has been making me think of what I want as far as a funeral. I’ve been to far too many funerals and I must say that they are all boring and depressing. I’d like to change that.
So, I’ve narrowed my internment options down to two.
1. Build a giant trebuchet in the middle of the woods. Hook my feet up to it. Turn on Whiter Shade of Pale and cut the rope, thereby sending my body to fly through the air with the greatest of ease. Then you leave. No need to worry about a head stone or anything like that. I’ll just land in a tree. I’ll be fine there. Just make sure you film it.
2. Preserve my body and encase it in Plexiglas. Then install me in the very center seat at the local movie theater. In my hand you can even put some fake popcorn. On the Plexiglas, put a plaque that reads, “Tomb of the Unknown Movie Goer”. It’s perfect.
Of course, some guy will always be pissed at me. “This bastard always gets the best seat!”
Discuss Death
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