Some Wednesday morning, I'll write my last snicker.

I had a birthday recently. I'm one year shy of four score.

I think the last year of the decade is always hard to take. You are so aware of the upcoming birthday. People cling to 39, 49, 59. The turning of the decade makes you come to terms with aging.

When you pass the allocated three score and 10, you know you are running on a credit balance, and one of these days is going to be your last.

A conversation with peers one day made me realize how much attention some give to their wakes, that last social event. Some specify where it should take place, who should deliver the eulogy. They specify what pictures should be posted, what music should be played, what the person wants to wear, etc.

It sounds a little like trying to continue to control from the great beyond. For some, it's payback time. They don't honor the last requests.

"I never liked her in that blue dress; I buried her in the red one."

I have been a bargain-hunter all my life, and I certainly would want to go the cheapest way. Could I be put in a rowboat and launched, afire, on Lake Champlain? A cut-rate Viking funeral would suit me fine.

Then again, I've always loved a good party, so I'd like to depart accompanied by hearty laughter.

I have no ties to New Orleans, but I've always admired the cortege followed by a New Orleans band. But that sounds like it could run into money. Maybe someone could supply a bunch of kazoos, and the "mourners" could play "When the Saints Go Marchin' In" when they say goodbye.

Perhaps the venue could be a passenger trip on the Lake Champlain ferry. Yeah, that's the ticket. A sunset crossing, with the kazoo strains going out over the water and the champagne or margaritas flowing.

These are only suggestions. Funerals are for those who remain behind, after all. They provide closure. I just wouldn't want it to be a somber affair. I have been very lucky, and my life was blessed.

"Regrets? I have a few, but then again, too few to mention..." (I did it my way).

I can't remember who said it, but we regret most the things we didn't do. I wish I had been naughtier.

I was able to support myself and my two children doing things I enjoyed. I would have scrubbed floors if necessary, but thankfully, I had jobs that were a hoot: advertising, radio, journalism.