Thursday, 23 February 2012
Swimming with sharks
One of Scott's best CBC friends died of a heart attack two days ago, while minding his own business, snorkelling in Costa Rica.
Dean had been down there for eight days when he took his mask and flippers out to look at the little fishes. Did he see something scary? Did he just say to himself, well, if I must be going...?
These things keep me up at night.
Dean was probably 60 but always looked young for his age. He wore his hair in a bright blond shag for most of his life, looking for all the world like Tom Petty. As a newscamera and sound man, Dean lived his life on his own terms, breaking his neck a couple of times, daring the Gods to strike him down for a life full of war zones, beer and spliffs.
There were many ways Dean could have gone, violently while on assignment or shockingly through his own bad habits and mischief, but he did it up right one last time with his wife of three decades in a resort called Paradise.
We heard the news yesterday just as the mailman came to deliver Scott's life insurance policy. I am reassured that if Scott somehow has one of life's big mishaps, I will be able to throw him a helluva bash.
He said darkly last night that maybe I'd be better off if he just offed himself. I nearly slapped him. Didn't he know that the claim isn't paid out if one commits suicide?
I don't like to think about death but it's all around me these days.
If I should leave this world, I may have to be buried by the state or maybe Scott could call up the incinerator place in Pembroke where they took Hannah last Friday. That whole thing cost us less than 200 bucks -- no muss no fuss.
Maybe he could put me out in the green bin.
I've been thinking about getting one of those dispatch yourself insurance policies which leaves enough money for a funeral, a wake and a new PlayStation. Pays out triple if you death is accidental!
There's a great thought.
All these morbid musings are getting me down. I've got to go to see Dr. Ben today for my checkup and he's bound to tell me to lose my bad habits and start eating like a rabbit.
I'll say what I always say: working on it.
Thinking of a trip to Costa Rica to swim with the sharks.