August 28, 2004
Eulogies, and Remembrances
The Bride was discussing after-death protocol tonight, which always sets the hairs up on the back of my neck.
She is a deep-earther, terrified of cremation, so she is allowed her say anyhow, as a gimme on my part.
She averred that she wants Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries played at her funeral. I can work with that. Innocuous enough. I don't think I'll be too embarrassed in my grief.
I, personally, want Iron Man played at my funeral. Not that I am a Black Sabbath, or Ozzie, fan. I just like the idea of making people uncomfortable. And, let's get the fucking dog on, it IS the last chance I'll have.
So: after I have The Bride immolated I'll play Iron Man whilst scattering her ashes over the Bacon Park Municipal Golf Course in Savannah. Then I'll go sip a Scotch and play Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries.
I see this as a 35% compliance level. That's pretty good for me. And lest you think I am cruel, think: I love her. Can you imagine what I would do if I were empowered to bury you?