Over my dead body

Amy Krakow is planning a big bash at Dinosaur Bar-B-Que, and like any well-organized public relations woman, the Upper West Sider has it all figured out, right down to the tunes.

When her guests arrive, they’ll be serenaded by Joey Ramone’s version of “What a Wonderful Life.” After settling in, they can bounce along to Wang Chung’s “Everybody Have Fun Tonight.”

The only detail Krakow doesn’t have yet is a firm date — nor will she be able to greet her guests. That’s because the big fete she’s planning is her own funeral.

Though she’s just 55 and fit, Krakow — who, among her other achievements, once dated TV’s Larry David — is part of a growing number of New Yorkers who are arranging their farewells down to a T.

Eilon Paz

Upper West Side resident Amy Krakow intends to put the “fun” in her own funeral. Although she’s a healthy 55, the publicist has already picked out a catchy playlist and tasty menu — barbecue — for her final farewell.

In this age of micromanagement, the idea of leaving something as monumental as a final statement to someone else’s whim or vision not only seems outmoded, but unnecessary.

And for a growing number of New York City’s control freaks, calling the shots on their own departure puts them back in the driver’s seat — even from the great beyond.

According to Randy McCullough, deputy director of the New York State Funeral Directors Association, more people are taking the reins on their own send-offs.

“It’s a very discernible trend — the business is becoming more consumer-driven,” he says. “Some people are terming it ‘a celebration of life.’ If they loved motorcycles, they might want their bike present at the service.”

Krakow says her choices — both in the setting of Dinosaur Bar-B-Que (one of her clients) and music, which also includes Marianne Faithfull’s rendition of “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” — reflect her sense of humor.

“It isn’t that these are my favorite songs as much as that each one says something about my life,” she says. “And the key to a good funeral is humor. You want to remember someone in a positive light.”

She has left a fund so that her friends can facilitate her wishes, and though she probably won’t meet her maker anytime soon, she’s not taking any chances. In fact, she started thinking about her own funeral nearly 10 years ago.

“My apartment was in TriBeCa during 9/11, and it was then I realized that you have to live each day as if it is your last, so I started planning accordingly,” she says.

Nor is she the only one. Natalie Paruz, a 36-year-old musician from Astoria, is rallying a group of her friends to perform a requiem.

“I want to make it a big concert,” says Paruz, who works on film soundtracks and commercials. “I’m also in the process of designing a gravestone that will reflect my interests and passions. It’s a work in progress — and I’ll keep adding details as time goes by.”