It’s Time to Cover Final Base on Earth

If there’s one thing all the warring factions would agree on, it’s that Terri Schiavo didn’t want to die as a public spectacle. But with everyone claiming to be representing her wishes and defending her dignity, that’s what happened.

What’s wrong with that picture?

I’ve given express orders to my surviving family members that if they defend my dignity like that, they’re out of the will and my record collection will go to Goodwill. They all nodded but then quickly informed me that I need to put my express wishes down in writing.

Trust me, I told them, I will. But like most Americans of a certain age, I probably won’t. At least not in any kind of timely way. Chalk it up to some weird expectation of immortality.

If I had any brains, I’d follow the lead of Al Garner, a 65-year-old resident of Leisure World in Laguna Woods. Garner is something of a storefront philosopher who has sent me some of his observations on life before.

I don’t remember if he’d sent me his thoughts on death before, but the Schiavo case prompted him to let me know he has that base covered.

“The Schiavo case points out to me that living wills should be mandatory somewhere along the line,” he says in a phone call. It’s all about death with dignity, he says, and who better to determine that than the person who’s doing the dying?

One of my favorite things about Garner, who describes himself as a former social worker, teacher, political aide and landlord, is that he doesn’t sugarcoat things. It would be hard to picture him driving an ice cream truck. And because he has seen “so much messing up in life by everybody,” he doesn’t want to leave anything to chance when he’s on his last legs.

If there’s one time in life when it ought to be OK to be a control freak, it’s when we’re in the final stages.

So, in a fashion that I hope to emulate, Garner has not only put it on the record that he doesn’t want any extraordinary measures taken to thwart death if a “meaningful quality of life” is impossible, he has added some interesting touches.

Now, whether he actually gets everything he wants is another story. Garner says it’s possible but quickly suggests that he’s not the most optimistic guy in the world and has been disappointed by people before.

But what the heck. All a guy can do is try. Among the things on Garner’s end-days wish list:

* “No religion, superstition, mysticism, etc.”

* “I would like professional, polite, natural, quiet, gentle, patient understanding and realistic treatment, because I’m a squeamish, sensitive worrier about medical things.

* “No idealism, gloss-over, pretend, denial, role-playing, superficiality or wishful thinking.”

* “I prefer to go to doctors whose waiting rooms have no music or TVs.”

* “[My caregiver] shouldn’t be more than 15 years younger than me.”

* “No fuss over food. I don’t want to hear about it, talk about it, rave about it, worship it or be told I have to eat this and that by some chubby person. I want simple food. If healthy, TV dinners are fine.”

* “I like the idea of one or more nice dogs visiting me daily, if inexpensive.”

He’d also like to minimize hospital time toward the end and “to pass away at home without lingering.” He’d like his caretaker to tap into his various interests, such as history, New York City, nature, sentimental things, New England foliage and comedians such as Rodney Dangerfield, Jonathan Winters and Laurel and Hardy.

Garner -- who says he’s in good health, by the way -- has it all figured out. He wants to go out as the man in charge. And wouldn’t we all?

I tell him I like his list but ask if he thinks he can guarantee that much control over his ultimate demise.

“If I can find the right people,” he says.

Good luck, sir. And if you beat me to the Other Side, send a postcard.