I can't remember the protagonist of the anecdote, or even where I read it, but there was an ancient Roman actor, a comedian, who performed at one of the annual festivals, and won the prize for his troupe. The winners had a banquet thrown for them, and the comedian entered, sat down and asked for a mug of hot wine, took off the winner's wreath, propped his mask up against a dish and put the wreath on it like it was his own head, then sat back in his chair and was still. Nobody noticed until his neighbour nudged him and told him his drink was getting cold.
So there's that: dying when you've just had a great triumph and even you don't notice your own passing.
Then again, the combined influence of Cialis and a woman 1/4 my age would be a joint favourite (when I'm 80 or 100 not now)