An heroic exit!

I always said that I want to die rescuing a child from a burning bus. This is no longer true.

In my youth, Verne Gagne was a famous pro wrestler ("rassler"), the master of the "sleeper hold." He was one of the original pro wrestlers who made it big with the advent of black and white televisions all over blue collar suburban America. The sweaty burly drama fit well on a flickering black and white screen, and featured black and white morality plays perfect for the concrete understanding of 10 year old boys.

Vern has Alzheimer's disease and like my Mom, lives in the present, and in a memory care unit somewhere. Somewhere new, now, poor fella. It seems at the last place he was staying, he took it into his head to pick up a 97 year old companion and body slam him.

The un-named 97 year old gentleman suffered a broken hip and did not survive the shock of the injury. He would have died faster had Vern remembered the sleeper hold, but Vern hasn't wrestled professionally in some time and was probably somewhat rusty.

If I am 97 years old, living in a memory care unit someplace, I beg you: Please send a demented pro wrestler to body slam me into the Great Beyond. If the body slam does not do the trick and I am still kicking, please apply the sleeper hold and the iron claw. Please have him climb the ropes and teeter, sweaty and intent, soaking in the jeers and yells of the other residents and staff, before dropping on my ribcage in a perfect pike position.

No tag team allowed. Drop kick me, Jesus!