Famous death

With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death last week of a very important person, which almost went unnoticed.

Larry LaPrise, the man who wrote ‘The Hokey Pokey’ died peacefully at the age of 93. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin.

They put his left leg in, and then the trouble started.

*****

Which reminded me of the death of Percy Shelley, famous English composer of verse…. He stood in line at the Pearly Gates and discovered that a Sister of Mercy had died a split second before him. As the queue shuffled slowly forwards, allowing each person time to endorse their entry in the book of life, they spent a few years in conversation. He quickly discovered that years of conteplation and meditation had made her very deliberate in her speech and movements, but this gave him time to think over a few new sonnets as well as to consider who may be waiting for him inside, so it wasn’t all bad.

Finally the sister’s turn came at the book. But unlike the others she sat down and, instead of a simple signature, she began to produce a magnificent illuminated manuscript.

This was all a bit much for Shelley and he called out to the cowled supervisor at the desk: “Excuse me St Peter! But how much longer will I have to wait?”

He was astounded to see the supervisor leap to his feet and fling the hood back from his head; to reveal not St Peter but Jimmy Durante, and launch into one of his best-known soft-shoe routines: “Ya gotta wait, till the nun shines Shelley!”

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