‘What’s the worth of one warm smile? Go and ask the dead man’

By David McElroy · October 23, 2011

There’s nothing like thinking about death to focus your mind on how you really feel about life. I’ve been thinking about death a lot recently — for various reasons — and it’s left me loving life even more.

A couple of people have recently talked to me about wanting to die. That hits me hard, because I see both of them as having the capacity to have long and fulfilling lives ahead of them and because it’s so different from how I feel about life.

At the risk of sounding obvious, the specifics of life can be terribly difficult. I’m certainly not where I want to be. I don’t have the love or money or position or achievements that I’d like to have. I frequently don’t know how to get from where I am now to where I’d like to be — how to bring the vivid picture in my mind into being. But I’ve never lost hope. When Death comes for me, he’ll have to carry me kicking and screaming if he wants to take me.

Another reason I’ve had death on my mind this week is because of the death of a baby in a family on my street a week ago. The little boy was born six or eight weeks ago with serious problems. They were problems that could be fixed with surgery, but he had to get stronger to survive the surgery. He never got strong enough, so he died. His parents never got to hold him until the last moments when the life was slipping away from his tiny body.

As I thought about these things again Saturday — the difference between people who see life as something to toss away and others who are devastated by the loss of life — I stopped at a small country cemetery not terribly far from here to think about it quietly. That’s the entrance to the cemetery looking back at the road. As I walked around, I couldn’t help but look at the tombstones and wonder about the stories of the people buried there. What were their lives like? Were they happy? Did they love other people? Did they do things with their lives that they were proud of? And did they love their lives as much as I love mine?

I have no way of knowing. I can only answer through the lens of my own feelings and thoughts since I’ll never know their stories or their feelings. I can imagine, though.

I saw adjacent headstones for two teen-agers who died on the same day in 1973. I assume it was a car accident or a house fire or something unexpected. Sixteen-year-old Jerry and his brother thought they had long lives ahead of them, but they were cut short on May 25, 1973 for reasons I’ll never know. What would they have done differently in the days leading up to that day if they had known they were about to die? What would they appreciate that actually took for granted?

I was reminded of the words to an obscure 1987 rock song called “Go Ask the Dead Man.” (The album from Mark Heard was released using the pseudonym Ideola.) It’s all about understanding the value of life by looking at the mundane things a dead man can no longer experience:

What’s the worth of one warm smile?
Go and ask the dead man
How bright the light in loved ones’ eyes?
Go ask the dead man
Where’s the charm in cloudy skies?
Go and ask the dead man
Oh — go ask the dead man

Who has eyes for an evening sun?
Go and ask the dead man
The smell of earth, the sound of storms?
Go ask the dead man
How intense is the lightest touch?
Go and ask the dead man
Oh — go ask the dead man

They say dead men tell no tales
But if you want to hear your own heart beating
Listen well, listen well
Go ask the dead man
Go ask the dead man

How potent is the joy of fools?
Go and ask the dead man
What price these diplomatic duels?
Go ask the dead man
What sorrow in the rape of rules?
Go and ask the dead man
Oh — go ask the dead man

I love life. I’m not ready to join those who’ve died. I’m grateful that I didn’t die at 16. I’m grateful that I didn’t die at 29. When I was younger, I believed — as most of us do — that the life that stretched ahead of me was almost endless. I realize now that it’s not. It makes me live each day differently than I did at the time.

I believe that when I die, my soul will move on to a better place. But I also believe that the God who created me placed me here for reasons. It’s up to me to find those reasons and make my life worthwhile. I want to experience love again. I want to experience having my own children. I want to experience the joy of knowing that I’ve achieved the purposes for which I was put here.

Part of that, though, isn’t about the so-called big things. For me, it’s about happy dogs and purring cats. It’s about noticing clouds and rainbows, such as the one I saw in this colorful sky in June. It’s about laughing and connecting with people you love. It’s about appreciating warm smiles, the evening sun and distant storms. Most of all, it’s about appreciating the light in loved ones’ eyes.

I want to live and appreciate the beauty and tactile wonder and emotional depths of the world around me. I look forward to experiencing the next life, but I’m going to appreciate everything I can about this one. It’s a precious gift God’s given to me. I’m going to hold onto it for as long as I can force breath into my body.

No matter what your circumstances are, life can be good. It’s worth living — and it’s worth living with an open heart and with open eyes.

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Here’s another reason to appreciate the cats in your life: New research involving 93 countries found that places with more cats per person also tended to have happier people. The researchers say the finding fits with previous evidence that living with pets can reduce loneliness and stress while providing companionship, emotional attachment and social support. The study doesn’t prove that cats cause greater happiness, but it certainly adds to the evidence that sharing your home — and your life — with a cat might be good for you.

The company that owns Facebook and Instagram is heavily promoting its new AI-based software assistant called Muse, but people who are using it as it was designed are incredibly foolish. An early adopter of the software discovered that a few days ago when he advertised an item for sale on Facebook Marketplace — and he inadvertently gave Muse full authority to act on his behalf. The software agreed to a lowball offer made by another Facebook user and then gave that man the home address of the man for whom he was an agent. The software told the buyer that the seller was home and waiting for him. When the buyer showed up and waited angrily, the would-be buyer left an angry review for the man. And this angry man had the seller’s home address. It was only well after that that the software reported what it had done and admitted it had made a mistake. I won’t be putting that much power into the hands of any software. I think anyone who agrees to such terms is a fool. And the software’s user agreement says you’re responsible for purchases the software makes in your name. Nope.

Meet my new girlfriend. Her name is Meg. And she’s my little sweetheart. A couple of months ago, a neighbor across the street told me about a new stray in the neighborhood that she and I were both soon feeding. The cat had been very skittish about contact and she had a lot of scabs and parasites in her fur, but a trip to the vet last week revealed that she was otherwise in good health. The vet estimates her to be 1 to 2 years old. I named her for Meg Murry, the 13-year-old protagonist of Madeleine L’Engle’s wonderful book, “A Wrinkle in Time.” (Please read the book. Don’t watch the horrible movie.) Since we lost Lucy almost a year ago, it seems appropriate that we finally have a new little girl to join the household. She’s already captured my heart, but Alex, Oliver and Sam aren’t there quite yet.

There’s nothing socially acceptable that’s as dangerous as drinking alcohol. Most people grow up being told to “drink responsibly” — and all of us see people abusing this drug in one way or another — but the truth is that drinking alcohol is always a terrible risk. The alcohol in these drinks is toxic and the human liver has to work hard to filter the toxins out. What most people don’t realize is that alcohol is classified as a known carcinogen by the World Health Organization — because of the well-established connection between imbibing and various cancers. Many people have taken refuge behind the idea that light or moderate drinking might be safe, but a new study shows that drinking even one drink a day increases the risks of 10 types of cancer. When I was a teen-ager, I looked around and saw the negative effects that this behavior had on a lot of people and decided not to start drinking, so I’ve never even tried this poison. The evidence keeps piling up that I was lucky to have come to that conclusion early.

It turns out that the radical far left has been training “Antifa cats” to sabotage anything important to Donald Trump. Everything he did was perfect. Honest. It was all the cats’ fault. Arrest all the cats! This is the latest of my ridiculous satirical shorts. Please go watch it. Then “like” it and subscribe. Please. I’m begging you. (Too much?) Although a couple of the previous videos have had views in the hundreds, most have still been seen by fewer than 20 people. So I seem to be having trouble letting people know that page exists.

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