Funerals. Ever been to one? Yeah, me too. Been to a few.
It makes me smile that they call it “a celebration of life” these days. That’s nice. Much better than the old organ playing “weepers and wailers.”
I had two uncles who couldn’t have been more different than a horse and a rock. When we buried my dad’s brother, nobody had enough dough for anything fancy.
He’d been cremated, so we just needed to get him in the ground. The man at the funeral parlor said we could bury him in the family plot, but we’d have to dig the hole ourselves. He said it would be fine, but suggested we go kind of easy because some of the burials hadn’t been recorded. We didn’t want to dig up someone’s head.
The morning of the funeral, ex-wife number two stood guard while I dug, and we managed to get a hole without someone else’s bones in it.
My mother’s brother was kind of a fancy guy with a penchant for a glass of good whiskey and a beautiful woman. His service was filled with tall beautiful women in skin-tight short dresses doing the “model walk.” My wife said it looked like a Robert Palmer music video.
Celebration of life? I’d say so. Jimmy would have smiled at Deb standing guard while I dug, and Bob would have been proud of all the pretty girls. I hope some more fun stuff happens before I go under.
We’ll just have to wait and see ...
Tom James’ “Watch Yore Topknot” appears on the first and third Mondays of the month during July and August. Reach him at outlivedthemallsofar@gmail.com.
