Fred Solinger, 25, AAA Member Since 1996, Is Dead
Local man Fred Solinger, before a select audience of family and members of the press, died in his parents’ home in Lincoln Park, NJ due to complications from shame and frustration. He was 25.
Saturday afternoon, many of the media outlets received an invitation to the Solinger residence for what was promised to be an "afternoon of death." Upon arrival, it was discovered that a significant crowd had gathered in the living room; the faces of the invited guests betrayed a mixture of intrigue and cynicism as they awaited Solinger’s appearance.
At approximately 5:00 PM, Monday afternoon, Solinger’s bedroom door opened. He announced, "Some of you may be wondering why you were summoned here. Well, you may recall that I’ve been saying for years now that you’d be really sorry when I was dead. Today is that day."
He removed from his pocket a bottle of cyanide pills. He claimed that he bought them surplus from the Army/Navy store, and that he’d swallowed every last one of them. He seated himself in a conveniently placed armchair and the waiting began.
At 5:05 PM, the show was apparently over as Solinger seized up and ceased to blink. Family members were then polled for their responses.
His mother, Mary, left the room, citing the need to "get dinner started."
Father, Fred, remarked, "Well, that was a waste." His grandfather concurred: "He died in vain, because I don’t feel sorry at all." An uncle was apparently furious. "I was called up from Absecon for this," he said.
It was at this point that a loud, shrill scream was emitted from the man in the armchair and what was believed to be the corpse of Fred Solinger slumped over. A family member who wished to remain anonymous said that these mock-suicides were a common occurrence; that Solinger was disgraceful in his need for sympathy and praise.
An autopsy performed Tuesday morning revealed that there was no cyanide present in his system. The flush of his cheeks, apparent even after death, and the hands balled up into fists indicated to the doctors that Solinger had died of a mixture of shame and frustration.
As family members searched the body for loose change, they discovered a small envelope on Solinger’s person, bearing the imprint, "Because I know you’d only f--- it up." It contained a short obituary, which we will reprint here in full:
Fred Solinger was born on Sept. 15, 1977 and, to the consternation of all involved, he lived – for 25 years, time marked most notably for their lack of accomplishment.
He attended school where he felt misunderstood and fell victim to his teachers’ profound envy of his innate genius.
He spent four fruitless years at Drew University in Madison, NJ, followed by three years in corporate America, where he developed contempt for his fellow man and, especially, for his fellow co-workers. It was, however, in his professional life where he achieved his lone feat of perfection: both outlets that hired him also saw fit to give him the axe. He retreated from the business world in order to maintain that record, though, by indications, he could’ve continued the streak with ease. Said one recruiter: "He’s an eminently disposable individual."
Earlier this year, he’d enrolled at Montclair State University. While taking a creative non-fiction class, he was assigned to pen his own obituary. When he realized how meaningless life was, his in particular, he staged his own death, fully aware that the indifference of his family and friends would ultimately claim his life.
Solinger is survived by his parents, Mary and Fred, who are planning on converting his room into the den they’ve always wanted.