[Infowarrior] - Buchwald's Farewell Column, Written to Be Released at Death

[Richard Forno]

Buchwald's Farewell Column, Written to Be Released at Death

By E&P Staff

Published: January 18, 2007 2:50 PM ET

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NEW YORK Art Buchwald wrote a final column that he asked not be distributed
until after he died. The piece was penned on Feb. 8, 2006, after Buchwald
decided to check into a hospice. He eventually left the hospice, of course,
and resumed his syndicated column. Buchwald died last night at the age of
81. Here's the farewell column, courtesy of Tribune Media Services:

***

GOODBYE, MY FRIENDS
By Art Buchwald

Tribune Media Services

Several of my friends have persuaded me to write this final column, which is
something they claim I shouldn't leave without doing.

There comes a time when you start adding up all the pluses and minuses of
your life. In my case I'd like to add up all the great tennis games I played
and all of the great players I overcame with my now famous "lob." I will
always believe that my tennis game was one of the greatest of all time. Even
Kay Graham, who couldn't stand being on the other side of the net from me,
in the end forgave me.

I can't cover all the subjects I want to in one final column, but I would
just like to say what a great pleasure it has been knowing all of you and
being a part of your lives. Each of you has, in your own way, contributed to
my life.

Now, to get down to the business at hand, I have had many choices concerning
how I wanted to go. Most of them are very civilized, particularly hospice
care. A hospice makes it very easy for you when you decide to go.

What's interesting is that everybody has his or her own opinion as to how
you should go out. All my loved ones became very upset because they thought
I should brave it out -- which meant more dialysis.

But here is the most important thing: This has been my decision. And it's a
healthy one.

The person who was the most supportive at the end was my doctor, Mike
Newman. Members of my family, while they didn't want me to go, were
supportive, too. But I'm putting it down on paper, so there should be no
question the decision was mine.

I chose to spend my final days in a hospice because it sounded like the most
painless way to go, and you don't have to take a lot of stuff with you.

For some reason my mind keeps turning to food. I know I have not eaten all
the eclairs I always wanted. In recent months, I have found it hard to go
past the Cheesecake Factory without at least having one profiterole and a
banana split.

I know it's a rather silly thing at this stage of the game to spend so much
time on food. But then again, as life went on and there were fewer and fewer
things I could eat, I am now punishing myself for having passed up so many
good things earlier in the trip.

I think of a song lyric, "What's it all about, Alfie?" I don't know how well
I've done while I was here, but I'd like to think some of my printed works
will persevere -- at least for three years.

I know it's very egocentric to believe that someone is put on earth for a
reason. In my case, I like to think I was. And after this column appears in
the paper following my passing, I would like to think it will either wind up
on a cereal box top or be repeated every Thanksgiving Day.

So, "What's it all about, Alfie?" is my way of saying goodbye.

E&P Staff (letters at editorandpublisher.com)