Let me just interject some thoughts before giving Witchy back the stage again (isn’t she a great writer?).
I had to go to a wake yesterday (not the soldier FROM Iraq, this one is a friend’s mother… since it comes in threes, most people at work wouldn’t be surprised if I’m going to be #3, so it all has me thinking about my own mortality, and why I keep seeing the Reaper every time I go to the convenience store for a soda refill & cigarettes.).
So after work, I’m picked up where we immediately drive to California* to the wake.
(*Not actual name of the state. Actually I have no idea where it was. It wasn’t Pennsylf**kingtucky or Nueva Yawk… that much I am sure. But I smelled toxic waste, the radio stations stopped working in the Paterson and Secaucus areas and I kept asking if “we were in California” until Carole said “yes” to shut me up.)
In California, we took a quick pitstop at the Paramus Mall, where we were amazed at the high-tech gadgetry in their restrooms. You take a wee-wee, walk away and the urinal flushed itself. Put out your hands and the sink ran water, and towels automatically unload… there’s even an aspirin/candy/condom dispenser!. We’re used to the Stroud Mall, where all they have is an outhouse in the parking lot.
The funeral home was in UPPER Bergen County. They like to stress that there. Because lower Bergen county is where you see all the women with big hair in the Bon Jovi videos. Upper Bergen county is really hoidy-toidy rich and PRIDES themselves in the fact that they are not LOWER Bergen county. (In case you’re ever in California & don’t want to piss the natives off.)
If I had my way, I would change the way wakes and funerals are run. For starters, what is the point of families trying to out-do each other with floral arrangements? What a waste of money!
To me, nothing says “I loved that stiff more than you did” better than by sending… APPLIANCES! No. Really. Think about it. A death in the family turns loved ones INTO instant vultures anyway. How many times can you think of when Aunt Sadie is barely cold and relatives are ransacking the house for jewelry, heirlooms and loose cash, so why not just bring the goods right INTO the funeral home?
- “This 42″ Plasma TV was donated by the Smith Family”
- “The X-Box, given with love, by the Santucci Family”
- “This slightly-used & refurbished 2-head VCR FROM the Liebowitz Family”
Hell, P.C. Richards can run FTD out of business!
My funeral will be a showstopper (Provided I get this all in a will as Carole has vowed no way in hell will she do ANY of this.)
- Mimes re-enacting my death every half an hour. Hopefully, it will be something simple like a heart attack, or being hit by lightning. Going peacefully in my sleep will be boring, and falling off a skyscraper may be too much of a challenge.
- Clowns giving kids black balloons, and squirting people not “mourning properly” with water guns.. I want tears, you fuckers! Yes, I realize many of you will be there to actually MAKE SURE I’m really really dead this time… but that’s still no excuse not to at least TRY to cry. And why keep the kids away? If you’re going to traumatize your kids at a wake… what better place to do it than at mine?
- The focus should be on ME, the dead guy, dammit! I’ve been to too many wakes where it either becomes a happy family reunion or for members of the Genovese/Colombo crime families to get together peacefully and plan their next heist. Fuck that shit. What about me????Since they’ll have to remove vital organs, and sever my muscles and spinal cord to make me look “peaceful” anyway, why not add some hydraulic machinery? Have me sit up and reach for a coke on top of the coffin every once in a while… that’s the way I want to be remembered anyway.
Needless to say, you’re all invited to my FUNeral. There will also be a hot & cold buffet and a wet bar in the back to SHOW my appreciation for coming to my final show.
… even if you’re just making sure I’m gone for good this time.
(Which is highly unlikely as I plan on spending the rest of eternity haunting my enemies, and hovering over some of you babes while you’re in the shower or getting dressed. Evil never truly dies. It merely changes form.)