In case you haven’t heard, I have no intention of ever dying.
Sincerely. To acknowledge my mortality might make it impossible for me to get through the day.
So what follows is purely hypothetical.
If I were to die — WHICH IS NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN — I have an idea. Or more appropriately, I’d like to steal an idea:
When pianist André Tchaíkowsky died of cancer in 1982 at the age of 46, he donated his body for medical science, but with the understanding that his skull “shall be offered by the institution receiving my body to the Royal Shakespeare Company for use in theatrical performance.”
Brilliant. Right?
In 2008, actor David Tennant used the skull in 22 performances of “Hamlet” in Stratford-upon-Avon.
I have no idea why it took them so long to use it.
So if I ever died — which we are clear will never happen — I would love for my skull to be donated to a Shakespearean company for use in “Hamlet.”
That would be amazing.
And if the proprietor of an especially good haunted house wanted to borrow it every October, that would be fine, too.
Okay, Elysha?
