Ready For Freddy?

"Are you ready for Freddy?"  My father's close friend would pose this question to the ether not infrequently when telling a story to us about an old mutual friend or any joke involving some careless or prideful person.  He  posed the question apparently more as a rhetorical flourish and I assumed for years (not to my credit as a less than inquisitive young man) that it was some ancient pre-war catchphrase of old New York, the meaning of its simple rhyming couplet and the identity of "Freddy" lost in the mists of time and merely an old habit of an old guy, much like those of even older generations who might have reflexively ejaculated: "Twenty-three skidoo!", "Bully!", or "Pop Goes the Weasel."  But even my rudimentary curiosity should have induced an at least fleeting interest in the form of this compound enquiry: "Who's Freddy and what should I be ready for?"  Somewhere along the line, probably in my late twenties, my self-absorption as a young adult finally abating, I did actually ask Dad's old pal for an explanation.  His pleasant and mild ways, seemingly to me through the years devoid of irony or morbidity, caused me to experience a slight shock when he replied, while displaying some amusement about my ignorance, thusly: "Gee, don't you know?  Why, Freddy's The Undertaker."  There was a long pause and then an "Oh!" escaped my lips and I realized belatedly that philosophy and the "big" questions were not unknown realms for pondering by a man who seemingly only reflected on racing forms and economical cigars.  I felt less alone but also reminded that grappling with mortality was not a unique, personal, fantastical entity and hence NOT, wishfully, unreal.  The lighthearted and off handed way that he mentioned Freddy, this character's role now revealed, made the subject especially sobering, something akin to a character in a novel casually referring to the devil as Old Scratch. The almost endearing nickname for Satan or mysterious cuteness of Freddy only etched more sharply the reality of what was not a chimerical phenomenon.

Well, am I?  Are you?  Okay, I'll go first.  The short answer is: "No."  Excuses aside, there are innumerable biological and psychological factors that cause us to scream through every cell of our corporeal beings and each porosity of our skins: "never say die!" For most of our youthful lives we cannot fathom and are untouched by any dramatic imaginings of non-existence.  Oh, there are plenty of exceptions.  As mentioned in at least one other blog entry, I was terrified of Death on two occasions before puberty.  In fact, I was intensely obsessed with the subject at the age of four and the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962 eight years later reopened that wound in quite histrionic and hysterical ways. But generally, preparing for the irrevocable goodbye is not simply part of life until perhaps when one begins to leave middle age.  Phrases like "years ago", "we used to", "there once was" and "he was a nice guy" creep into one's conversations and signposts aplenty tell of our new fatigue and sharpen our awareness of the approaching End while eroding the rock of self-denials, especially when, while noticing all kinds of deaccelerations, the old wisecrack reminds us: "Death is nature's way of telling you to slow down."  One textbook piece of advice: you prepare for your departure by living; give your all for and to life and spend it as it was intended: by living and loving fully.  That's useful up to a point and assumes a well adjusted existence with numerous support systems (friends, relatives and the varied diversions that financial comfort can provide).  But what of those for whom "winning" in life is an historical fact akin to the success of post season play by the Chicago Cubs?  It's a bit like the contestant on the famed "Wheel of Fortune" television program and game show who has accumulated zero dollars as the final spin occurs while his opponents are each 40 grand ahead. Maybe he is just relieved that it will soon be over.  Then however, eschatology is a natural subject to consider and he may feel compelled to not ignore Freddy, regardless of his religiosity or absence of same.  Does an opportunity exist to enter a heavenly "Bonus Round" or will new failures await that will make a worldly or game show "bankruptcy" seem completely inconsequential and trivial.  What of non-existence as simply that: no awareness, no consciousness, no pain, no abandonment or unimaginable loneliness and fearfulness and contrastingly, no joy or what we nearly invariably pursue hungrily in life: happiness…. .no, just nothingness.  If you were born in say, 1960, is there anything about the year 1958 or 1948 or 948 that you remember fondly or with horror, or as part of a tedious  millennium of sitting in a metaphysical waiting room waiting, well…waiting to be born? No, there is nothing you remember.  Perhaps after death, the same nothingness obtains.

Playing it safely is a persuasive strategy, i.e. behaving well in life may have wonderfully meta-ecstatic consequences in a next life.  What is good behavior?  Kindness, forbearance, taking time to listen to a fellow pilgrim might not be bad ideas. Know that you're not responsible for Freddy's invoice; at least any insolvency is his problem unless Potter's Field is a concern.  So, are you ready for Freddy?  The answer clearly depends on one's psychic health and probably on how one feels about the statement that "Love is the answer to the problem of human existence." What is the answer to the problem of human non-existence? Perhaps it is memory and perhaps it is forgetfulness. Perhaps there is no problem that a shrunken ego cannot begin to solve.