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Meet Ned. His parents are dead. Let it be a lesson to the rest of us.


Death on the Internet

I was searching for a mysterious credit card charge explanation online when I came upon the blog of Jim Miles. It was about 10 years old I think and it was about how Jim married Kate and then in the 90s had a kid named Ned and then Kate had an aneurysm and died in 2006. And it was so moving. Not because I knew Kate nor was it the cute pictures of Ned. It’s because I am obsessed with my own mortality and that of my parents and the guilt I feel for living so far away from them. And even the mortality of my wife although she is much younger than me. And I think it’s all because I had children and everything is so good right now. Life, love, career, family, everything. It is really a fun time and I just can’t see how it could be this fun forever. I’m not waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don’t exercise conditional joy. It’s not that I don’t deserve all this, I do. It’s just that I can’t see how much fun it will be when my children are teenagers and they resent me 98% of the time. I really have to let go of the children. I have to brace myself because they are going to leave. And I want them to leave.


So anyway back to Jim Miles’s blog. Kate is dead. I then found his Google + account only to discover last year Jim died of a brain tumor. And he blogged all about that too and some of it didn’t really make sense because he had a brain tumor. So unfair. But there’s good old Ned. Young, handsome as ever, nice arms. Looks like he has a girlfriend. I hope he does. Hope it’s a different one than the one he has in the photos. Ned, if you’re reading this, do like Alan Arkin tells Paul Dano in Lil’ Miss Sunshine: fuck as many women as possible. Especially with the scepter of death looming over you as it does.


Ned must be 29 or 30 by now… Doesn’t have parents anymore. What a kick in the ass that is. Life is so sad sometimes. His future-kids will never know their paternal grandparents. And what must young Ned be thinking? Am I going to go the way of my mom or my dad? Aneurysm or brain tumor? Either way the brain in that family is a little susceptible to inner explosions.


Is an aneurism quick? Tumours don’t sound quick. Boney horseman, please make it quick and clean (and when I’m 92). If you drag it out. If I’m in an old folks home not knowing my own name then I’ll be pissed. It’s all been too good, too fun, too funny for it to end poorly. Fuck that. Bill and Kate never got to see Ned’s grandkids. Fuck, I’m already looking forward to those. I’m owed those.


In the year 2064 I want to die quickly in my sleep and be buried at the Toronto Necropolis as close as possible to Jack Layton. I want my grave stone to say “Had some laughs, some drinks and some broads. Pretty good.” Or “Mirandy, I had a great time. Thank you so much.” Don’t burn me up. I want a grave where the worms can feast on my thickened belly and where people can come and visit and talk about how much they liked me and how funny I was. And that’s it.


Seriously, Ned, you don’t know when you’ll punch your number. Ditch the blonde and get another. Get as many as possible. Maybe even take a page from your old man and blog about it. And don’t forget to take photos!




Okay enough of me.

I gotta stop crying… Dave’s looking at me like I’m an idiot

J.B. in Toronto