Monday, May 04, 2009

Charlie Lightens Up

My last post, Death Becomes Me, was a bummer, man. Necessary, I felt, but a large bummer. So, to lighten and brighten things up around here, I'm going to tell you all about my funeral plans. Isn't that great?

First of all, there isn't going to be one. There is no way in hell (oops) I'm going to play the funeral home scam. Like caskets (the PC name for coffins) that are guaranteed to not leak for twenty-five years. Give me a fucking break. Try to imagine Martha, in her seventies or eighties, forgoing bingo night to rent a backhoe, digging me up, and checking me out for leakage. Hell (oops), I leak now, so the whole exercise would be moot anyway.

Unless, that is, she's hard up for bingo money.

No, I'm opting for the cremation option. No suit and tie (neither of which I own anyway), no lipstick and mascara, and since I live in the Sonoran desert, I can take the heat.

What I would like, though, is an open-urn wake. You know, so all of my friend or two can get a last gander at me.

OVERHEARD AT THE WAKE:

"Why, he's the spitting image of himself! They did a lovely job."

"Hey lady, that's not an ashtray--well, actually it is an ashtray--but don't you be flickin' your ashes in it."

"I could swear that urn is leaking."

On second or third thought, maybe there should just be a cake. Yeah, a remembrance cake, that should do it . . .

12 comments:

Wandering Coyote said...

Oh, and there are some really cool things you can do with cakes these days, too, what with all the airbrushing techniques and stuff available!

Charlie said...

You've got the job, WC! Put all your expenses on Martha's tab since they probably won't be taking my checks at the bank.

Barbara Bruederlin said...

Just make sure that Keith Richards is not invited to the wake, unless you want to spend eternity up his nose.

Me, I want a burlap sack under a tree somewhere.

Kim Ayres said...

Are you going to have a web cam set up at the wake, so we can all join in?

Attila The Mom said...

When my dad passed, it was my older brother's job to find an urn for his ashes. Not being one who marches with the crowd (heck, none of us are), instead of an urn, he brought back a cloissone vase thingy with a lid that was decorated with seven geishas. WTF?

Being Dad's kids, we decided to make lemonade out of lemons and put yellow sticky notes under each geisha with the name of each of his 5 wives and 2 fiances.

Our mom discovered it at the wake and was not amused.

Stinkypaw said...

After my dad's cremation I had his urn at home for a while (until we could bury it, had to wait for the land to defrost)and almost every day, when I'd walk by it, I would shake the crap out of it! My mom thought I was nutts, but on the way to the cemetary she did it as well, and agreed that it felt great! ah!

(you see my dad used to "rattle our cages" often, so... it was a little "pay back"!) ;-)

Charlie said...

"You people" are something else!

BARBARA: You had me laughing so hard I almost peed in my nappies!! Martha and I have been laughing about Keith for years, so your comment really got to us.

Some advice, though, especially since it's free. Your burlap-under-a-tree sounds restful and idyllic, but choose a tree Keith isn't sitting in--you know his tendency for falling out of them.

"A tree? I fell out of a tree?"

KIM: Not a bad idea, until I remembered that I'll be nekkid. I'm a little shy in front of the ladies . . .

MOM: You crazy kids, you. I think naming the seven geishas was a brilliant idea. And I don't understand what your mom was frosted about: didn't she have her own yellow sticky?

SP: You're another one to make me laugh like hell (oops). I would think shaking him before he hit the oven would have been payback but, in the end, I guess your way was more satisfying.

So much for respecting the dead, but then again, they don't give a damn . . .

Mary Witzl said...

You know, Charlie, you can have your ashes mixed into a clay, shaped into a pot, then fired -- and finally, even glazed with the minerals from your own bones!! That's the way I'm going: even in my death, I'll be an art treasure. And whoever eventually breaks me will just have to live with it.

Meg said...

Will alcohol be involved? If so, then I like Kim's idea of the web cam.

Charlie said...

MARY: What a crafty idea!

MEG: I'm shocked: the Wallflower wants to party down? Or are you merely a voyeur, hoping to get a look at Keith Ricards?

Mel said...

I told my husband that I want to be cremated and my ashes spread in a super-top-secret location so my insane extended family has noplace to go to boohoo and dramatize over my bones. I hate that shit. ;)

Charlie said...

MEL: Ah yes, the Drama King & Queen Hypocrite Factor. I know it well (from other funerals, of course).