Committing Suicide Like a Champ
Don't get me wrong, I feel less suicidal today than I've felt like in a while.
But if I was going to commit suicide, I think I've come up with a perfect plan for immortality without my loved ones feeling the normal grief of someone taking their own life.
First of all I'm going to cash out my 401K, don't need a retirement savings if I'm not going to retire, right? Then I'm going to call one of those Mt. Everest Guides. I googled "climb Mt. Everest" and a bunch of climbing services offered me their guidance. The agency above looked good at first glance, nice ratios, 1 guide for every 3 climbers, 1 to 1 ratio of climbers to Sherpas. That's probably the one I'd go with.
I'd put my affairs in order and then off to Nepal. They don't care about how good of a climber I am or not, they just want my check to clear. The company above, probably any Everest Company really, cares about me a little more than Nepal. They don't want their guides in harms way dealing with amateurs, think of all the litigation.
Goin' out in a haze of confusion is what will happen, but those who are left behind won't suspect a thing. (Unless they read this article.) Of course my body with be on Everest for 50 years or so, but back at the wake the survivors will be brimming with overused clichés:
"He died doing what he loved."
"What a brave soul."
"He accepted the challenges of life."
"He made his family proud."
"He dared to dream."
Instead of what should be said.
"Why did that idiot climb that mountain? That was suicide."
And that's how I felt reading the news this week.
2019 Everest Death Toll Rises to 10 - Outside Magazine
Your family's proud that you planned your own suicide? And it's not just people in faraway lands climbing Everest. This was a headline yesterday:
(If you actually read the article, the local graduate was older than me.)
If he wanted to challenge himself he could have done Tough Mudder.