Closing out 2016 with the passing of William Christopher of M*A*S*H*.
It was getting to the point where I dreaded watching TV or going online with too many people leaving.
The closest thing this reminds me of is my personal experience with death.
1. A close coworker named Lucille passed. Driving to her viewing, I turned on the radio. Kenny Rogers singing "You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille . . . . " The irony hit me between the eyes.
2. My former employer, Jack, died. Waiting for his funeral to start at the cemetery, I again turned on the radio. Ray Charles singing "Hit the road Jack, and don't you come back no more, no more . . . . " My eyes bulged a little and I shook my head.
3. My father died almost three years under a bizarre set of circumstances. I saw his corpse on the metal table in the ER. I got into my car almost at midnight at the hospital. I paused, thinking about the prior two occasions, thinking the radio and death were not a good mix. But I shrugged off the memories as hasty generalization. It happened twice and that didn't mean it would happen again.
Wrong. I turned on the radio. You guessed it: Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear The Reaper". I shit you not. Rather than let my eyes bug out, I embraced it. It figures, y'know?
