Column | Dooiendomino – NRC

Whether I am afraid now that quite a few fellow BN’ers will definitively fall over? Not really, but there are many. And not just Dutch celebrities. In any case, quite a few family members, friends and girlfriends have been squeezing out in my periphery lately. So much so that I have now advised all my living acquaintances to break their friendship with me. Before you know it you have been there. From now on it is pure deductible. If you have a silent euthanasia rens: Come on!

On gloomy days I am talking about my dead domino. Almost all too young. Absolutely no stairlift types. Men and women who recently did not know that their contemporary box spring would be their less comfortable deathbed a year later.

Nice reason to live a little harder. In order not to reflect too much in the case of small-minded right shops or family dinner. Although I enjoyed reading again that our moving judge Mr. Frank Visser seems to be a bag -filling manipulator in the service of John de Mol. Also funny that his right hand is just a poking sneaker that constantly fires fikkies for the ratings. He does his last name ‘Brand’ all the honor.

But so many Dutch celebrities have been slipped out in recent weeks. According to their friends, acquaintances and colleagues at the talk show tables, they were all professionals with whom you could laugh uncontrollably, but also cry and good conversations full of depth plus that they were generous and endless empathetic. They also all stayed and loved the camera from the first second of them. So natural talents. No untrue words, but you don’t pronounce them out loud when people have just blown out their very last breath. Only Sylvana Simons did not stick to that rule. She was not too enthusiastic about an old quizmaster with whom she had worked. That was an old account that still had to be settled. I fear that the quizmaster, now aimlessly mad about the eternal hunting grounds, has shrugged about it.

In the meantime, I have already put together my condolence team as a risk fall (heart patient, who was still eating like a seal for air in the coronation time). People who are allowed to talk about me on the radio, TV and other channels. Of course all Dutch celebrities. Otherwise they will not be invited by the editors. And I gave them a notebook with hilarious anecdotes. Plus a booklet with a number of silent gifts that I have donated free of charge during my life to charitable goals. Such as 25 four -color ballpoints at a school in Burundi, a toolbox on a Tanzanian retirement home and a dozen second -hand hearing aids at a deaf school in Sri Lanka. Furthermore, I have already put a few elderly vendeluiten, who sometimes want to report themselves as shamelessly as a speaker on these kinds of occasions, now blacklist.

Death. Our inevitable end. The only thing we are on the road in this life. After that you really don’t matter anymore. Not actually before that either.

Years ago a fantastic national vanity spout died after a ruthless sickbed. The doctor helped him a hand. The syringe would be given to him at half past eight in the evening. The famous patient had already announced his death to the press under Embargo. It was announced in the then ten -hour news. According to the upcoming dead, the country would be completely in shock. The doctor was on time and said at a quarter to nine that he was going to pass the verdict. To which the patient spoke the legendary words: « Wait a little, I want to see what the news says about me. »

The doctor did not wait and the patient has slept peacefully.

Friday afternoon was an episode of the television program The box repeated. With Loretta Schrijver as guest. She spoke about her old mother, about her loved ones, about her father and a little bit about herself. Blood -curdling modest and therefore so terribly beautiful. I am silent. How quiet? Silent.

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