Saturday, January 28, 2006
I've been spending far more time at a funeral home lately than anyone should possibly care to. I've been doing some development work generating some year-end reports in a small, normally-quiet room.
Unfortunately, when the room is not quiet, I'm listening to the sounds from the chapel down the hall where people are attending funeral services. This provides a predictable song list of Amazing Grace and various other hymns, with a sprinkling of contemporary music.
Now the warning. If I die and someone at my funeral sings "I Can Only Imagine" by MercyMe, I will do my best to roll my coffin off the coffin-holder, lumber/crawl up to the person holding the microphone, and bite them. If I am instead cremated, I will attempt to form a swirling cloud of menacing ash to ... induce sneezing, I suppose.
Speaking of corpse-handling, my work at a funeral home/cemetary has further convinced me that cremation is the way to go. I sit at a "desk" with a large map of the cemetary hanging above me on the wall. It appears to have a bajillion cemetary plots. These cemetary plots are not reusable, as far as I know. While I understand the sense of memorial that comes with a rock and a patch of grass, it still seems we're allotting a lot of grass for a long time.
I don't require a land purchase in conjunction with my death. Burn me up, sprinkle me into a cigar ashtray, and play Johnny Cash's rendition of "We'll Meet Again". (or face the dire consequences)
Unfortunately, when the room is not quiet, I'm listening to the sounds from the chapel down the hall where people are attending funeral services. This provides a predictable song list of Amazing Grace and various other hymns, with a sprinkling of contemporary music.
Now the warning. If I die and someone at my funeral sings "I Can Only Imagine" by MercyMe, I will do my best to roll my coffin off the coffin-holder, lumber/crawl up to the person holding the microphone, and bite them. If I am instead cremated, I will attempt to form a swirling cloud of menacing ash to ... induce sneezing, I suppose.
Speaking of corpse-handling, my work at a funeral home/cemetary has further convinced me that cremation is the way to go. I sit at a "desk" with a large map of the cemetary hanging above me on the wall. It appears to have a bajillion cemetary plots. These cemetary plots are not reusable, as far as I know. While I understand the sense of memorial that comes with a rock and a patch of grass, it still seems we're allotting a lot of grass for a long time.
I don't require a land purchase in conjunction with my death. Burn me up, sprinkle me into a cigar ashtray, and play Johnny Cash's rendition of "We'll Meet Again". (or face the dire consequences)
posted by Clint at 10:51 AM
4 Comments:
Yes, the whole "casket and plot" thing is a racket that should be exposed for the shameless hucksterism that it is ... playing on people's emotions or guilty conscience ... to get them to spend inordinate amounts of money on things that will be unseen after approximately seventy-two hours. However, some people may find comfort in your assessment that after someone passes, the living will be alloted a lot of grass for a long time.
Genesis 3:19 - In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.
That's all I'm asking for. (sweaty food and cremation)
I think freckles should probably handle any reply to that, enderc.
Do you know how many people died of boredom reading your response? All of them!
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