Dead Celebrities

To my credit, I did wait two years. After I figured that the wounds had begun to heal, I tried this one out at a party I was throwing: "What do you suppose John Lennon would be doing if he were alive today? Maybe finishing up another album with Yoko, or even getting back together with the lads?" Then a beat. "Or maybe he would be scratching frantically at the lid of his coffin." From across the room, a rather large young man with many beers in him got up and bumped his rather impressive chest against mine. Though I was hosting the party, I had no idea who this person was who was telling me, "Hey man, that's not funny."
There was a lot of hemming and hawing and I ended up making some vague apology before I slithered off to the bathroom to savor the fact that I hadn't just joined John in Heaven. Imagine that. Actually, when I reflected on it, I assumed that if any person, famous or not, would appreciate that joke, it would be "the smart Beatle." As a result, I have made it a practice over the years to make that same joke about a great many stars who have left our material plane. I consider it, in my own snotty way, a tribute.
That's why, when I read that Michael Jackson earned two hundred and seventy-five million dollars this year, I wondered if passing on wouldn't be the best possible career advice. It also gave much more credence to the notion that someone might fake their own death just to cash in. Elvis made sixty million dollars last year just for hanging around a pet store in Kalamazoo, Michigan. John Lennon showed up on the list by raking in seventeen million the year he turned seventy. That's not AARP money. That's some serious cash.
Maybe it is cruel to suggest that bankrupt artists, either financially or creatively, would fake their own deaths. Maybe it's cruel to joke about it. Or maybe it's better than imagining John, Michael and the King clawing their way out of their own graves and dancing in the moonlight. Happy Halloween.