Have you ever read aloud, news about a tragic death and someone says, man, that would be my least favorite way to die? Then you and your friends start coming up with all your least favorite ways to go stories? Someone always says shark attack because we all know how likely that can be. Then there is always a claustrophobic in the group who wraps their arms around themselves and gets all creepy faced as they squeeze out, in a trembling voice, the unthinkable buried alive scenario. Of course burning to death no doubt comes up as you flip the burgers on the grill and who can deny the discomfort of being chased by zombies through the town square. My mom always thought I was in a ditch dead whenever I came home way late. We were not living in an agricultural society and as far as I can remember, I had never seen a ditch on the side of any of the roads in my town or any surrounding towns for that matter. But according to her, that was the very first thing that popped into her head. I guess being swallowed up by a sneaky ditch isn't so bad compared to some of the choices that my friends and I were croaking out. Anyway the conversation always spirals into a who can top the last death blow when some weak minded sap gets all wigged out and has to turn it around because they won't be able to sleep if they don't reverse the bad vibe that is sinking it's little talons into their undersized noggin. Then they spin the conversation to favorite ways to die. Is it me, or is there something still off with this line of reasoning? But you play along and come up with the most enjoyable ways to exit planet earth. C'mon, it's not like God is going to hand us a list. As in, my children, I want you all to check off a really enjoyable way for me to smite you. As a side, it's is very interesting how different men and women are on this latter thought. I might be getting a tad punchy people so let me get to my main point.
The reason all this came out was because of an ironic thing that actually happened to me. One day, I tripped over a big wire in a store called Wireless Central. It instantly cracked me up. It didn't strike anyone in the store as funny at the time. The laborers (who had the wires all over the floor) just looked at me like I had gotten electrocuted and was short circuiting (not a pleasant way to die, I might add). The help behind the counter gave me a weak efforted smile as I shared my inane observation. Well, I say crusty endings to all of them. I am a cartoon guy and I see life as a series of panels and speech balloons. And I saw a headline announcing, "Man trips to his death over a wire in Wireless Central". And that, in all it's glorious irony my friends, is the way I would like to go.
So that is my big thought for the day. Sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite cuz that would be a icky way to go.