Psst...Wanna Be My Next Of kin?

There I was, casually filling out a form the other day. Come to think of it now I can't remember what the form was. Ah yes, it was a piece of paper that needed filling out, that was it.

I came to a bit in which I had to write my next of kin. I faltered, I halted and I stumbled, rather like a really crap triple jumper. You see it's actually a good few years since I had to fill in a next of kin thing and I didn't know whose name to insert.

Next of kin in terms of money, estates and all that big stuff is all taken care of in my will. Next of kin in terms of who should be called if I get hit by that proverbial bus is another matter. For the record I should tell you that I think bus drivers get an unfair hard time on this issue. We talk endlessly about what would happen if we "get hit by a bus" and there's no need for it. Pilots, truck drivers and car drivers never get mentioned and I think that's wrong and harsh. I might start a campaign about it you know.

For almost twenty years I would have put my ex's name in the next of kin bit. Of course that isn't really an option now for all the obvious reasons. And putting C's name there is a seemingly logical choice, if it weren't for the fact that she's usually found in the depths of Singapore, hardly great for a quick dash to my bedside.

I then contemplated writing down A or K and promptly rejected either of those options. From what you know about K I'm sure you can totally understand this and, as for A, well she's at that huffy teenager phase and any request to her is usually met with lots of sighs and mutterings along the lines of

"God Dad (huff) you're ruining my (huff and sigh) life"

Then my mind strolled in the eternally dodgy direction of siblings and parents.

Parents, I thought to myself, would bring to the accident scene a whole set of potential problems. The first one being that my Dad, when arriving at the scene by car, would most likely cause several more accidents as he tried to park. This could be fortunate in one way, as the emergency services would already be there, but distinctly undesirable.

The second and biggest problem would be my Sri Lankan mother. Were I the age of Dinidu or one of you youngsters things would be okay, but I'm not. I dread the thought of the firemen going home in the evening and telling their families about the forty three year old bloke who'd fallen off his drum stool and almost broken a stick and the overly fussy and protective Lankan mother who turned up and tried to take charge.

Academic Bro was very carefully considered then rejected, mostly because of his geography, ironic as geography is his subject, but I mean the fact that he's usually not around. Music Biz bro was considered and rejected too.

So it was down to friends. My first thought was bandmembers. They got turned down. They're a good bunch and reliable but I had to think realistically. The fact is that they'd only be concerned if something happened to me on a gig day, maybe a band practice day. On top of that their major concern would be to ensure I was fit enough to play, perhaps to teach someone else the set if not. Frankly we don't gig enough for me to think that my life would be in safe hands with these fellows.

My mind meandered casually over to the area of the Sri Lankan blogosphere, the Lankanosphere as I've heard it called. Of course my first thought was David Blacker. He'd be a good next of kin I reckon. He's good in a fight, he likes cars and he can write about things afterwards too.

Then I thought of Cerno, another near perfect choice. He's innovative and imaginative and he can do things with Google Earth that makes James Bond look on with admiration and awe. He had to go on the shortlist. And most lists with Sri Lankans are short lists.

Java Jones sprung to mind also. A fellow who I feel I could rely on, who would always help a friend. Receiving the kiss of life from him has potential dangers though. Getting knocked over by that bus, receiving the kiss of life from Java and then waking up totally stoned has attractions, I'm just not sure on it.

Pradeep Jeganathan was considered and rejected quicker than you can say "fry the prawns for a minute or two with chilli powder, balsamic vinegar and vanilla custard." If I wanted someone to cook my body beautifully then take even better pictures of it, then publish an academic paper on the matter, he'd be in my top five choices. But I don't. These academic food loving photographing and blogging chaps are all the same you know.

Of course the reality is that the distance between London and Lanka makes all in Sri Lanka impractical. So I thought about DD of ViceunVersa. He lives in this neck of the woods and he'd understand the requirements. The kiss of life would be unpleasant, both for him and for me. That, in itself is probably enough to reject him. Women all over the world dream of receiving the kiss of life from DD, just not this one man. But it seems that he's, in the blogging way at least, has ceased to exist.

So vut to do?

Any takers?