The Fear Of Nothingness

For years, approximately 30 years, I've wondered about death in general and my death in particular. Fifteen or twenty years ago I had a clinical anxiety problem based on my fear of death. I figured that death ended everything. No more pizzas, movies or colorful sunsets. Those things would be replaced by nothingness. The nothingness would be so complete that I wouldn't be aware of my nonexistence. For months, that whole scenario kept me awake at night. Somewhere along the line that anxiety ebbed and then flowed. I still do not like the concept of my death, but nowadays I am able to sleep at night.

I'm 75. Just today I wondered how I was going to die. The thought came into my head as I was walking to my sofa and the nearby TV carefully carrying my dinner of a freshly microwaved bean and cheese enchilada. I realized that at that very moment I could have a massive heart attack or a stroke. The enchilada would fall from my hands as I dropped over, legally dead before I hit the floor. This possibility exists with anyone at any time but it is more likely for a guy of 75. And perhaps even a bit more probable for a guy who regularly eats microwave enchiladas. Instant death. It isn't a bad way to go, I have decided. No pain. No stress. Preferably, it would not come today but at age 94 or even 98.

I will occasionally worry about waking up in the morning with a sharp headache or abdominal pain. I will drive myself to the hospital emergency room where an x-ray determines that I have a tumor. After a week or so of painful biopsies and various other tests, it is concluded that the prognosis is terminal. I am then living out the string in physical and emotional discomfort. My friends would be overly compassionate. I can still be humorous and even deliver a good, self-effacing joke, but my friends can't hear the humor and chuckle nervously out of sympathy. In the end, my last moments, I am laying in bed, my vision is blurry as my throat gurgles with labored breaths. That particular scenario does have one positive note that would make it preferable over the "instant death" option. There would be no messy clean-up of an enchilada that had fallen to the floor. I'll end there, on that positive note.

No Take Backs

I'm no genius but I do have a pretty good memory. I have said that my good memory is a big reason why I'm chronically nostalgic. There is a negative side to it. About 10 or 12 years ago I started wondering that if I could undo some of my past acts, irresponsible or just plane unwise past acts, how many various incidents would there be, total? I should specify that I'm not referring to goofy stuff that today brings on a chuckle. I'm talking about truly dumb sometimes meanspirited occasions that now make me wince in recollection. Some of these incidents are almost 70 years ago. Nevertheless, I now find them so embarrassing that I will not speak of them.  

After about a week or so of first considering this question, I had recalled about 5 or 6 occurrences that fit my criteria. That's not so bad, I figured. Well, over the decade or so since, that number has climbed. I would be reminded of some long ago incident and think to myself, well, there's one more to add to the list. I'd say that list now numbers somewhere between 50 and 100. To be clear once again, I'm not talking about farting in a crowded elevator or discovering my unzipped fly in public. I'm talking about acts, most of which could have gotten me into serious trouble or caused severe injury. The remaining ill-conceived exploits were moments of mean, even cruel behavior that caused emotional pain to others, at least they may have had that effect.

On a positive note, about 90% of these incidents were perpetrated before I was 25-years-old. Some of them, when I was a little boy. Like that time at age 10 when I was a split-second late releasing a firecracker with a burning fuse. Though I kept it secret, the fingers on my right hand were numb for a week after that piece of idiocy. Yes, it was the act of a goofy kid, but I still remember sitting in my 5th grade class and trying to hold a pencil with those slightly swollen fingers. If I could undo those few seconds, I would. More egregious was that time in the 8th grade when walking down a school corridor, classmate Kay Hinton smiled and said hello to me. What did I do? I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue at her. Pure imbecility that can never be undone. Make no mistake, having a good memory definitely has its down side.   

I Should Be President

 On occasion I have stated that I should be the president of the United States. I've gotten a lot of support for this proclamation. For example, I declared that I should be president to a friend of mine and after a few seconds of uneasy consideration, he replied, "Well, I might vote for you, if you were the last person on earth." See? Never mind the fact that if I were the last person on earth, he would not be around to vote, that is, unless he voted by absentee ballot. 

Anyway, I have made this declaration based on the notion that like every good politician, I am unbiased and objective in my thinking and views. At least I think I am, although that opinion might not be totally impartial. Unlike seemingly everyone else on the planet, I don't care if a person is Republican or Democrat, liberal or conservative, man or woman, black or white or even some other color. I'll accept his or her ideas and opinions and judge them objectively on their merit. Reaching the correct conclusion might require a bit of study but if it's important, I'll put in the work. 

This tirade is motivated by my going on the internet recently and seeing endless moronic squawking concerning the trial of Lindsay Clancy. If you're fortune enough to not be familiar with the trial and the woman at the center of it, Lindsay Clancy is a woman who murdered her three children and then tried, and failed to commit suicide. She has been on trial for the deaths of her children, whom she admittedly killed. She was allegedly suffering from psychosis and incapable of controlling her emotions, emotions that made her homicidal.

The trial is so well publicized that there are roving bands of women who insist that Clancy be found innocent. There are also throngs of people, many of whom are popular internet content creators, who insist that Clancy be punished to the full extent of the law. Generally speaking, neither group has closely followed the trial. So, what do I say about all of this, me, the guy who should be president? 

Here it is; those many individuals who without examining evidence or listening to expert testimony, brazenly announce to the world either that Lindsay Clancy is innocent or that she is guilty, those persons should never be allowed to sit on any jury, ever. Their emotions or ignorance, or a combination of the two make them unsuitable for a task so important. 

If you thought I was going to give my own opinion on the trial, no, I can't do that. Just like almost everyone else, I am very aware of the trial but I have not been closely following it. Unlike almost everyone else, since I haven't been closely following it, I am undecided on how I view any verdict. 

Hey, there's another good reason why I should hold the highest office in the land. A president should not be a hypocrite.