“In Conclusion ………” – Peter Culley – 29th

One of the seemingly inevitable pleasures/curses of encroaching old age is the tendency to reminisce over the past and speculate on the future. In my present situation (almost 86 years old) I find myself doing just that. It is in effect a way of measuring one’s individual progress made in the world from the cradle to you-know-where. Obviously we are handicapped when it comes to recalling our entry into this vale of tears (probably a blessing in disguise, that) and any memory of those early events only kicks in later, somewhere round about the time when simply baby crying – for whatever reason – gives way to the onset of speech and verbal communication.
It has been well documented however, that the infant’s first attempts at speech are frequently greeted by the parents dissolving into an ecstasy of excitement and pride at hearing his/her’s “first words”. Their enthusiasm is undeterred by the fact that ‘the words’ in question are usually complete gibberish, devoid of vowels, and certainly not found in the OED! In spite of this, the parents probably predict they have a child genius on their hands, and its celebrations all round!
My own first words remain unrecorded by my unwed mother (Yes, I am a bastard) but given that I was born in Croydon, London on 6 August 1940, they were probably an infant’s attempt at the single warning, “Incoming”. (work it out for yourselves).
Let’s fast-forward to the other end of the continuum regarding our sojourn in this world; the time when we have run out of time and wish to make any closing remarks. There are countless historical examples of ‘famous last words’, which can often be either bland, emotional, bitter & angry, amusing, etc. They are generally quite succinct and very much to the point. This could well be due to the fact that they are – in fact – last words and the ability to ‘ramble on’ is usually somewhat curtailed by the circumstances of the event. Sad though this may be, it adds considerably to their impact and makes them more memorable!
A brief summary of some of the better known examples are as follows. Lord Byron passed on with the comment that, “Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight” which I find quite remarkable for a man whose lover described him as ‘mad, bad and dangerous to know’. Seemingly quite out of character.
If the Bard of Avon is to be believed Julius Caesar’s “Et tu Brute?” was quite simply him expressing his surprise and disgust that a fellow politician should be so treacherous. Given the current state of affairs in Westminster this should come as no surprise. Incidentally no less a luminary than Churchill closed his contribution to literature with the words “I’m bored with it all” and who can blame him?
Captain Oates’ last remark to his mates (“I am just going outside and may be some time”), delivered with dignity by a very brave man, illustrates the gulf that has opened up in this country between then and now.
On a more cheerful note, my remaining examples convey only humour. Spike Milligan ended by saying, “I told you I was ill”, while Groucho Marx signed off with “Die my dear. Why, that’s the last thing I’ll do.”
Which leaves me with a dilemma. My personal favourite is that of John Le Mesurier, a gentle man who bore no grudges and simply said, “It’s all been rather lovely.” With all the best lines already spoken for, what on earth am I going to say when it comes my time to leave this earth? Of course I realize the exact circumstances of that departure may well influence my choice of words (assuming I am still compos mentis) but it is a puzzle. I now find myself whiling away those boring moments in life when time seems to drag (ie TV adverts, Party Politicals, etc.) by trying out versions of my own ode to humanity. I have come up with a few contenders but so far nothing leaps out at me. I could do with some help. Answers on a postcard please.
PS: I would have included King George V’s comment, “Bugger Bognor” but although he did say it they were not his last words!