I was alarmed to read of the passing of 76-year old Michael Faherty who was found dead lying on his back in his house in West Galway.   A detailed investigation into the cause of death offered no explanation other than that he was burned to death as a result of spontaneous human combustion. 

The inquest heard from `experts` who were certain that Mr. Faherty`s death had not been caused by a nearby fire, there were no traces of accelerants such as petrol and nothing to suggest foul play.   As a result, the coroner was `left with the conclusion that this fits into the category of spontaneous human combustion for which there is no adequate explanation.`

A tragic and baffling case all round but it got me wondering about ways to bow out from what is a baffling world.   And, as I have reched a certain age, I have begun to speculate as to how I might like to make my exit and I rapidly reached the conclusion that spontaneous human combustion is not for me, thank you very much.

Now I realise that my departure may not be in my own hands, so to speak, but nevertheless there might well be a few more preferable options that the fate which befell the unfortunate Mr. Faherty.   One might be to depart on the nest; another might be to wave goodbye on the golf course, possibly having just birdied the notorious par 3 sixth at Hever Castle. 

But I think the preferred option for me at least would be to bid farewell to this cruel world as the final whistle blows in the Champions League Final after the Saints have crushed Manchester United.   This option seems to be the one that might guarantee I`m still around for quite a while yet.   Suits me.