Heads You Lose

A recent book called "Frozen," written by a former executive of a US cryogenic facility, contains the alarming suggestion that the head of Ted Williams, the legendary Boston Red Sox slugger, has been separated from the rest of his person and used by employees of the facility for batting practice, an irony the Splendid Splinter might or might not appreciate.  Williams's family had placed him in deep freeze (at a cost, it's reported, of some $120,000 a year) in the hope that advanced medical technology would someday allow him once again to come out swinging. 

I cannot verify this story, but I can report that my friend Darwin, traveling through Afghanistan some years ago, watched teams of horsemen playing polo with the head of a departed enemy.

Mortality is much on everyone's mind, it seems.  Two of Philip Roth's recent novels, "Everyman" and "Exit Ghost," deal with this disagreeable fact of life.  I recommend both books, although perhaps not as gifts for someone in hospital.

One summer I attended a lecture series on death and dying given by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross in Naramata, from whence now come many fine wines.  Ms. Kubler-Ross told of a trend in US funerary arrangements allowing non-persons to be posed in familiar attitudes, at a table sipping tea, for instance, or bending over a billiard table.  Friends could then come by and chat, although it would necessarily be a one-sided conversation, unless the departed had left a tape recording, which seems, in light of the rest of it, not unreasonable.  

My friend Bernie Vinge had an elaborate scenario for his funeral:  it called for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir parachuting over his shorefront home, humming "Ein Heldenlieben," following which a fiery arrow would be shot into the Viking ship carrying our hero to Valhalla.  To be sure his wake would go according to plan, Bernie had a dress rehearsal at his favorite watering hole.  He stretched out on a pool table, glass in hand, while his fellow pubsters stood 'round and mournfully sang.

I do hope all this has brought you comfort.  As for the Ted Williams story, I thought it was important to give you a heads up.