Recently, I was watching a show about a young mountain climber that died in an avalanche.  They spoke to his family and friends and many of them said the same thing: He died doing what he loved most.

This is not the first time I’ve heard this said.

Amateur pilot dies in a plane crash. He died doing what he loved.

Boater dies at sea. He died doing what he loved.

Professional hot dog eating champion chokes on a hot dog. He died doing what he loved most.

The idea of dying while doing something you really enjoy seems like a great way to ruin something you really enjoy.  I really love a Chinese buffet, but I would really hate dying choking on an over-sized piece of General Tso chicken (No idea how this hasn’t happened to me already).

Having the opportunity to choose the time of your own death would be a unique super power (Perhaps not one I would want), but if I have the opportunity to choose when I die, I think I’d pick a time when I was doing something I really hated.

Watching an episode of Dr. Pimple Popper (This show somehow exists).

Running from a psychotic clown.

Watching a second Trump inauguration.

In reality, knowing that someone died “doing something they loved” only brings consolation to the loved ones.  No one wants to imagine their relative dying while running from a clown.  They want to imagine someone taking in a view from the top of a mountain.

With all this being said, I think there is a way to die that we can all agree would be super bad ass: Dying in your sleep.

The biggest complaint people usually have with sleeping is that it doesn’t last long enough.  Dying in your sleep provides a unique solution to this problem.  One that affords a soft pillow, comfy blanket and little energy use.  Perhaps your last waking moment will be reading a good book, watching a fascinating episode of Ancient Aliens or finally beating that round of Angry Birds.

And these are all truly greater accomplishments than any mountain or hot dog eating contest.