How do you want to be remembered? The question is one of those universal ones: What’s your sun sign? What’s your favorite color? Where was your first French kiss/with whom? What was your first car? What would you do with a million bucks? *

Actually, I’m not sure I do want to be remembered. Ashes either blowing in the wind (shades of The Big Lebowski) or laid on an outgoing tide seems like a satisfying send-off. No muss, no fuss. Except first, I think I would like a service, absent wailing and gnashing of teeth. And for which I do have just one request: the music. Not all the music — you can have your Jesu, Joy and Air on a G String, to give Johann Sebastian his due, but somewhere in there, I want my music.

I happen to know from experience that it’s important to make one’s wishes known. Driving back from dad’s funeral with my mum and my Uncle Howard, Dad’s brother, I said, “Mum and I were so happy we could honor him by playing that Elgar piece. I know he loved it.” (It was Nimrod, ninth of the Enigma Variations.) Howard grinned mischievously and replied, “Oh no, that was his least favorite!”

So: have you thought about what music you would like played at your funeral? Me, it’s Layla, Eric Clapton and Jim Gordon’s great love song from 1970. And with that wish goes the fear that someone will play the wrong version or cut it off early. I want all 7 minutes and 11 seconds of it. (A later version, on Clapton’s Unplugged album, skipped the piano coda.) And I want it loud! If people want to talk, or sing, or dance, or wonder why on earth they’re playing this particular piece, or who Derek and the Dominos were, that’s just fine with me. (My wife can’t stand the song, but whoever said funerals are for the bereaved?)

Backstory: The romance between Layla and Majnun (“madman”) is an ancient Persian story, a Romeo and Juliet tale of the boy going mad when the girl’s father prevents their marriage. The story apparently resonated with Clapton when he fell hopelessly in love with Patti Boyd, wife of George Harrison, who happened to be his best friend. She divorced Harrison and Clapton married his muse. A true friend, Harrison attended the wedding, along with Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr. The marriage officially lasted for 10 years until 1989, although much of that time the pair were separated.

But Layla—the song—that will last until the heat-death of the universe. Timeless. Ardent. Rich. Raw. Passionate. You’re thinking it’s a pretty good song at the start, with Clapton and Duane Allman beating out their guitar duet. Then, at about the three-minute mark, Jim Gordon’s piano hits you, and…

Hey, come to my funeral! And afterward, dude, you can just go bowling.

* Virgo, black, Allington locks/Sally Posgate, 1946 Austin 10, fly business class.

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Barry Evans gave the best years of his life to civil engineering, and what thanks did he get? In his dotage, he travels, kayaks, meditates and writes for the Journal and the Humboldt Historian. He sucks at 8 Ball. Buy his Field Notes anthologies at any local bookstore. Please.