So this month has been pretty hard. After 11 wonderful years, we had to put Jewel down. It took us all by surprise, and we’re all still trying to deal with it. It’s hard you know? Dog, human, fictional character, even a picture of someone; no matter what the resemblance of a living thing is, when you know something or someone for more than half your life, it hurts. She was like a sister. Her love was completely unconditional, and all she ever asked of you was to maybe leave the leftovers on the kitchen table with a chair not pushed in… She was a great dog and is heavily missed.
It got me thinking about death and dying, and all that other scary emo shit. And I thought of something I’ve always been very adamant about; the plans for my funeral. Figured this would be the perfect place to share it with you all, so it’s known. Here’s how its going to go down…
- First and foremost; OPEN BAR. Open bar, open bar, open bar. Everyone is permitted and encouraged to get hammered. This will of course go great with the BBQ food catered from Virgil’s BBQ in Times Square. And supposing I go unmarried or marry a woman who doesn’t want a bread boat at our wedding (however, that’s highly unlikely), there will be a giant bread boat. Auntie Anne’s pretzels as well.
- The food is accompanied by a live jazz band. This jazz band? A Big Bad Voodoo Daddy/Royal Crown Revue hybrid. That’s a whole lot of horns.
- They wheel me out to Queen’s ‘Flash’, where a lights and pyrotechnics show accompanies me.
- I am not in a coffin, I am frozen in carbonite, ala Han Solo.
- I’m wearing my black fedora, and my old vest.
- After some opening remarks from Yoda, Kermit the Frog (the host) will introduce everyone who comes up. Everyone is invited and encouraged to come up to the podium and say something, positive or negative, funny, true, sad, whatever. That’s everyone and anyone’s moment to make their closing remarks or tell their favorite memories. Everyone has to be laughing, this is supposed to be like a post-mortem roast.
- … Oh, forgot to mention, there’s a balcony and Standler and Waldorf are heckling.
- A reel of all my films is screened. This one’s for me; I have to make you people watch them somehow.
- Now for the sad part. They will lower my body into the ground…. while John Williams and the London Symphony Orchestra play ‘Binary Sunset’ (you know, that slow cue from A New Hope that plays when Luke is looking at the two suns on Tattooine). Crying is allowed here.
- The open bar is still open.
- BBQ, bread, and pretzels are still being served.
- The Stuff Party. First and foremost, with a few exceptions, my comic book collection is up for grabs. Everyone who wants one gets one. Leftovers and the set-aside sentimental ones go to specific people. Now, if I’ve ever said to you that you’ll get a specific thing, or if you flat out ask me for it, you got it. I want everyone to have something from me. Might as well have my stuff be put to good use, right? Comment here and ‘ll make sure you make the list. But after my living space is cleared of reserved items (reserved either by me or by you), the party continues there, as you all take my stuff! Of course if I have a wife and kids by that point, they will get first dibs on very sentimental items, but after that it’s a free for all.
- Party goes on as long as you guys can!