More and more people are realizing that the day will indeed come when they will no longer walk the earth. More and more they also plan for the day when someone closes the lip for the final act, and they are planted once and for all time.
I find that strange that someone would even care to think about it, yet I have insurance policies that provide for my widow. But the strangest thing I find is that people actually go to funeral directors and pick out their own coffins!
I wonder how that process goes down? Will it matter whether you like your coffin or not? Won’t you still look dead no matter what kind you get? In the afterlife, will we brag about it? I can just imagine myself bragging to someone when I’m gone: “Boy it sure is hot here, I hope my casket can withstand all this heat! Why it must be hotter than… oh jeez!”
I heard of one couple that wishes to be buried with their parents, not in the same grave, but in the same cemetery. The daughter says she will be awfully disappointed if she is not. What will be her plans after her own demise, to visit her parents? I guess she will visit to get the latest dirt!
Picking a plot with a nice view seems to also be important. After all, you will be there for eternity, so you don’t want to be looking at a gas station for all time. Frankly, I won’t mind a tree too much, as long as no one parks my car under it, then it will draw birds, and you know what that means.
I have my own plans for the funeral parlor. I want to be on a carousel that rotates and a little mechanical hand that waves bye-bye to everyone as it turns. I don’t want rows of chairs lined up, I want them circular around the carousel as it turns. There will be a card in my breast pocket that will say: “I hate when this happens!” I would also like to borrow someone else’s idea, of a kneeler that when you kneel, I pop up, until you get off the kneeler. I’m hoping there will be booze served for the guest, I want to go out with real style. Merlot for the ladies, of course.
No comments:
Post a Comment