What mad stories could you leave for people to discuss at your funeral?

WHAT would they say about you? I mean at the funeral, asks Colm O’Regan

Not at the ceremony itself but later that evening, when there were no more formalities to worry about. No more logistics to clarify like “are you travelling with us?” or “will they know to have the sandwiches ready for 4 o’clock do you think?” When everyone had relaxed enough so that one of the mourners would remember a story about the deceased they had forgotten they’d forgotten; one that opened up a completely new facet of their character that had been unknown to their family.

— “Andja-know he used to be a great man for the knitting”

— “Really”

—“Oh yes. Jumpers and cardigans, the whole lot. He gave up when he got married.”

I was thinking about this while watching famous people tell stories about Prince. (Don’t worry, this isn’t the bit where I insert myself into the story of a death of a celebrity in order to make it about me … wait … actually since I’m writing a column, I suppose yes it is. )

Celebrity stories can be banal. They fizzle out, possibly with the word ‘banter’ being involved.

But sometimes the stories can be damn good. The famous have the time and the money to get up to the kind of japes we can’t do because we’ve to bring the car in for the NCT that day. A celebrity who is really worth their salt should be like a character in a movie. It’s essential that Bruce Wayne be a billionaire from inherited wealth so that he has the money to pay for all the batty stuff and also doesn’t have to get up at half seven to go to work in a call-centre after a night spent Batmanning.

Prince seems to be someone who used his powers for good stories and these stories emerged or were retold in the days following his death. According to one, on a night out partying, in da club, he got bored and challenged Eddie Murphy to a basketball game at his house. What do you do when you get bored in da club? Shots? And then a kebab and a fight? It’s because we don’t have basketball courts at our house.

Prince and his gang — still dressed in their flamboyant club-clothing — proceeded to trounce Eddie Murphy and then he made pancakes for them.

In another story, Prince challenges Jimmy Fallon — host of The Tonight Show, an American chat show a bit like ours but without the sad bits — to a game of ping-pong. They’re more into their table tennis in America than here. There might be the odd table in workplaces of tech companies with names like TrouserHub and DimpleSponge and three word slogans like ‘Create. Enervate. Prostrate.’ but there’s no groundswell.

But in New York it’s a big deal. Susan Sarandon owns achain of them (Susan Sarandon is that actress who still looks amazing — she’s like America’s Mary Kennedy.)

Prince played Jimmy Fallon and trounced him as well and mysteriously disappeared while Fallon was searching for the last ball. Fallon’s band-leader Questlove recalled how Prince asked him to DJ at a party and when Prince didn’t like the music, told him to play the DVD of the movie ‘Finding Nemo’. Full volume.

You see these are the kinds of stories I’d love to have live after me. Ones with a combination of effortless money, a bit of time, eccentricity and a sense of humour.

I know you don’t need to have great stories just to live good life. The important thing is to be a good father, husband, son, sibling, friend, colleague and all that. But still it would be nice just to leave one completely mad story. But what? Some sort of tomfoolery perhaps. But if the guards were called I’d feel terrible. They’ve enough to be dealing with.

Just to be on the safe side, I’m looking up table-tennis clubs now. Or maybe I’ll take up knitting.