Adam on Death

“It’s what he would have wanted.”

Six powerful little words that are used to justify all kinds of crazy stuff in the period following someone’s death. The “period” in question can be anything from a week to the rest of a person’s natural life.

And why not? You friend/relation/casual acquaintance/mailman is dead and gone. Beyond worry. But look at you, left behind to pick up the pieces. You might as well use his or her or its memory to justify doing what you want to do. Because whether he would have wanted it or not, he’s beyond wanting it now.

“He would have wanted me to sleep with his little sister. And he wouldn’t have wanted me to call her the next day.” It’s not like “he” is going to verify this claim.

These claims are right up there with “he would have wanted to go that way.” I mean, how many of us have actually sat around and inventoried the way we would like to expire? Usually the method in which you assume the departed would have chosen if given his druthers is somehow related to a hobby.

“He would have wanted to get his face stuck in a band saw; he loved woodwork so.”

What will they say of me? “He would have wanted to be sucked into the propeller of that cruise ship; he loved the ocean.” Maybe something along the lines of “He was such a fan of animals, he’d be glad to know that the wolves that ripped him apart ate most of him.” Or maybe just “He would have wanted to die while writing a report; it would have made him happy to know that he never had to finish it.”

At first I thought it would be fun to list the ways that I actually would want to go. But once I got past the propeller of the cruise ship and the pack of wolves, it got kind of pedestrian. Besides, there’s an awful lot of bad voodoo involved in an exercise like this.

Consider, for example: I wouldn’t mind having a Dukes of Hazzard lunchbox fall on me from a construction site and crush my head. That seems kind of specific to ever be of much use. But can you widen that out to having any kind of lunchbox fall on my head? Very different experience. Widen it out further to “crushed by falling construction debris,” and you’re practically begging for ironic death in this town.

Equally pointless is listing the ways you DON’T want to die. I mean, it’s all well and good to say that you don’t want to be attacked by an eagle, but what if you DO want to die eating a really good sandwich, and the eagle only attacks you to get the sandwich? Do you see what I mean?

So I suppose I will just have to leave the topic of death with a few apropos statements:

If I am ever in a persistent vegetative state, please pull out my tubes. An empty version of me that smiles and drools and accepts baby-food spooned into his mouth is not the genuine article and should be taken off the market.

If I die while kayaking, unless there is good evidence that my kayak guide tried to murder me, don't sue the kayak company.

When my time does come, however, feel free to justify doing whatever you want by saying “Adam would have wanted it.” I would have wanted you to milk it for all it's worth.