The best kind of death

I read Peter Graves' obituary in the NY Times this morning. He died yesterday of a heart attack after returning from brunch with his wife and children. I'm not chuckling over death, it's a condition of our existence according to Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise. But look at the final chapter of Leo Tolstoy's death as portrayed in the film "The Last Station". It is a drama full of bickering in the house over his last will. He is tormented by his wife and comes to the conclusion that his life at Yasnaya Polyana is over, so he leaves in the middle of the night with his doctor, his secretary and a daughter. He gets as far as Astripova, a small train station in the middle of nowhere. His health takes a turn for the worse and he dies a lonely and embittered old man. Way back in the comic strip Lil' Abner there was a continuing reference to "Are you ready for Freddy?" which no one in the strip could figure out. It then turned out that Freddy was the local undertaker. So Freddy I'll be ready right after brunch with my family or perhaps after a swell dinner or just after the Red Wings win the Cup in overtime.