I hesitate to be so conceivably morose, yea, perchance even a bit macabre (pronounced mack-uh-bree), but I can think of no more opportune time than the day before Halloween to present to you my list of The Top 5 Ways I Do NOT Want to Die. ‘Tis the season!
1. Shark Attack. Perhaps this is the most disconcerting to me, because I have it on pretty good authority that this is exactly how I am going to die. And by “good authority,” I am of course referring to “unfounded and irrational fear.” You can read about my feelings (i.e.: fear and loathing) regarding sharks by clicking here. And in case you are wondering whether or not I am more afraid of being ripped to shreds by a shark, or swallowed whole, it is the latter. Because in order to be swallowed whole, that mother has got to be pretty big. And it’s the size of the beast that frightens me most.
2. Being at the top of the Sears Tower (or Willis Tower), leaning up against the glass to look below, and having the glass break and falling through the glass. Truth be known, this could never actually happen to me. Because leaning against the glass alone would give me a heart attack, and thus, falling to my death would be, as Rick Springfield so eloquently put it in his hit single Jesse’s Girl, a mute point.
3. Having a magic trick go horribly wrong and being sawed in half. Couldn’t happen you say? Or could it happen SO easily that your head is spinning like a top!? Insane, am I?! Or am I SO sane that I just blew your mind?! Impossible, is it? Or is it SO possible, that your world is crashing down around you?!
4. Being outside the space ship and having the cord snap and floating silently away into outer space. For this reason, David Bowie’s Space Oddity and Peter Schilling’s Major Tom straight-up freak me right the heck out.
5. On the toilet. This is really more about location than anything. And I trace this trepidation back to the stories surrounding the death of one Mr. Elvis Aaron Presley. What a shame. How do you recover from that? Turns out you can’t, because guess what – you dead. And I suppose that’s what I don’t like about it. When you die, your mortal body is expired. But your legacy lives on. But not if you die on the toilet. You’ll have to have two funerals – one for you and one for your dignity. Doesn’t matter if you invented penicillin, birthed Oprah, or sold 18 ka-billion records. You will be remembered for one thing. Number 2.
Is there a way I would prefer to die – other than the old cliché of “in my sleep?” I suppose death by overeating of ice cream would be acceptable. “His body just couldn’t handle that much lactose. We did all we could. He felt no pain. Look at him smiling.”
