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I don't expect to be reincarnated,
so I'll blog about dying and death (with appropriate irreverence) while I'm still alive.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

Contemplating suicide (Relax. It's merely an intellectual exercize. There is no need to send help.)

A wise person once said that when you talk more about what you've done than about what you want to do -- you're old.

Based on that, I suppose I'm old. I'm scheduled to become 70 years old next April 15th.

  • I've gone SCUBA diving under ice, I've skied, experimented with various pharmaceuticals, been arrested, had a threesome and had my salad tossed, eaten raw clams, lived in The Bronx twice and been to four foreign countries. I've survived long enough to collect Social Security and Medicare. I've written lots of books, including a bunch of bestsellers. I have hundreds of friends on Facebook and a few in real life. I've earned and spent lots of money. I've voted in every election I was eligible to vote in. I was invited to the White House (Bush One) and was nominated to be Hispanic Businessman of the Year (a long, silly story). I live with a wonderful woman and a wonderful dog who both seem to like me.
  • I am unlikely to visit the moon, jump with a bungee, become president, earn a PhD, win a Pulitzer prize or an Olympic medal for jumping. At this stage, it's extremely difficult for me to stand up after being on the floor. I have no human children to provide grandchildren. I probably won't buy a 3D TV. My next home will be smaller and less-grand than my present home.
  • I am almost prepared for the end. My will needs to be updated but I've written the text for my headstone and planned the music for my funeral 
My bucket list is pretty much empty. It contains a few fantasies (time travel back for a weekend in 1967, read every book I own, own a Ferrari, get an honorary PhD from Lehigh and ride a fast camel across the dunes in Morocco).


There is just one semi-realistic item on the list. For years I've had a vision of staying in a cabin next to a lake in the Adirondack Mountains. 

So, with health declining, money waning, discomfort increasing and little or nothing to look forward to... why should I bother to stay alive until my anticipated death in 2035?


Is there any good reason to not kill myself right now?

There are a few:

  1. My wife and my dog need me.
  2. I have to sort out, throw out, and give away lots of stuff.
  3. I want to finish writing a few books I've started or planned.
  4. I actually enjoy large parts of most days. 
  5. Suicide is not reversible. 
  6. There is probably no pizza or ice cream after death.
  7. I'd like to get back to Maine at least one more time.
  8. Some people would probably miss my blogging and Facebook postings.
  9. I expect that someone will give me a really good 70th birthday party next April.
  10. I probably won't hear what people will say at my funeral.
  11. I have lots of empty bottles to exchange for nickels.

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