I'm thinking of getting a tattoo that would say, "In the event of an accident, please take all usable organs and then compost the rest. My wife gets first dibs on my kidneys, but the rest is up for grabs." This would go on my abdomen, as this is unlikey to get hashed up in the most likely fatal motor vehicle-bicycle crash scenarios.
The thing is, I'm not totally sure about the distribution of things. Wife gets the kidneys, that's certain, unless her brother needs one, too. They can sort that out. But maybe I'd like the useless leftovers turned into cat food instead of compost. I like little kitties. The main thing is to recycle.
Not that I'm in any hurry. Plan A is to crawl off into a vast wilderness when I'm really old and know for certain that I'm through having fun. Of course with the Arctic melting down, large trackless wildernesses will be hard to maintain. There will be oil derricks all over everything. In that case, maybe I'll just set myself on fire and stumble into an oil pumping station. Talk about the last laugh! Watching those petro-slaves scatter in all directions as a flaming senior citizen does the Frankenstein walk into their flammable facility...
As I said, NO HURRY. But it's good to have plans. And in the event I get shortstopped by some catastrophe, remember the organ thing. Don't go pissing away money on some ridiculous funeral, or wasting land on graves and monuments.
In 1979-80, I said I wanted to be left to rot on the roadside if I happened to go down as road kill. Make the motoring public look upon their handiwork for as long as it took me to rot fully away. Of course I was told this was unsanitary and illegal. No one would do it for me. But the organ donation/compost/cat food thing shouldn't be a problem.
I keep forgetting to register as an official donor. Maybe this blog will serve as notice. I find it hard to get too seriously organized about my own demise. Too busy living. Anyway, you kidney recipients know who you are. Just don't get grabby.