My 4:00 a.m. brain took a break this morning and reverted from Stanley Cup hysteria, back to the less pressing but equally exuberant subjects of death and music.
I’ve always sort of dreaded parties for the forced social interaction, but seldom have I not enjoyed one, once committed. That being said, I’ve never been a very good host, as I can’t seem to relax and simply let the event play out. Always too worried about who is having a good time and who is not. Occasionally I think about that one last party I’ll host where I’ll finally be forced to relax and passively observe the proceedings. When that day comes I have a favor to ask of you, but I’ll get to that in a bit.
Does anyone else enjoy a good wake as much as I? When done properly and the circumstances of the guest of honor’s demise are not overly tragic, they can be quite a joyous occasion. Or at least they should be. There is something peacefully comforting about getting together in a group and celebrating the very best qualities of the person in the box. Sure they had their faults and many of them. Some glaring and some concealed but ultimately they brought something fond and wonderful to the memory of most in attendance.
I fear the wake is becoming one of those passé traditions that are quickly falling out of fashion. We might be inclined to think just the opposite in our present ‘look at me’ world of Instagram and Facebook but I think current and subsequent generations are turning quickly from archaic ritual. Even my own Father declined a wake, and he a 20thcentury Irishman; go figure. I’m pretty sure my Mom too has indicated she wants no wake, so there’s another one of that ceremonial generation that has lived long enough to alter their traditional way of thinking. Simple funeral and cremation seems about the only commotion anyone wats to go through anymore; how boring.
I know for certain, Jenny doesn’t want a wake, doesn’t want to be gawked at while lying in an open casket. She is a lover of trees and wants to become one, which is not so unusual, as more and more people look to green burials as the more environmentally friendly, less ostentatious disposal route for our empty bags of bones. If I am cursed enough to outlive her by any length of time you might find me tottering out in the woods or a park, hugging her particular tree as young lovers pass by pointing and snickering.
Not me boy, I’d like to go on record as saying I want the whole Megillah. Embalming fluid, heavy casket (but I suppose a pine box would do), wake, tears, passionate eulogies, slow decay, worms and weevils, big old monument with lots of weeping angels, skulls and Heavenly gates carved in with an ornate cast iron fence surrounding it, Olde English grave robbers saying, “Blimey, what a night! Did you hear that?” and a skeletal afterlife as a movie prop or college anatomy display piece that gets used for student pranks. I want it all and I want your undivided attention as I exit.
I was thinking last night of a funeral mix tape and what I might want on it. I plan on having an open casket with maybe some light appetizers spread around, an open bar with top-shelf liquor and washtubs full of cold adult beverages like in one of those beer commercials where everyone is having such a good time. Please take time to look me over and notice a few things before I’m planted. Get comfortable with dead me so when I ask this forthcoming favor you are okay with it. Notice how I am in need of a haircut as I always was in life. Notice how my sallow, sagging face reveals the mangled cartilage of my oft-broken nose and from my prone position maybe notice how one nostril opening goes this way and the other that way. I hope for your sake the funeral dresser spends less time applying clear nail polish and more time trimming my nose hair. If the weight of my heavy chin and protruding lower lip cause my mouth to drop open, please take a moment to lean over and gently shut it. Or for an icebreaking laugh, stuff it full of cocktail shrimp. Notice too how I’m stuffed into my one blue suit that I made the mistake of buying after losing 35 pounds at age 50 and thought I was going to keep that weight off while simultaneously discarding my fat guy suits. Bloated and bursting at the seams, stuffed with cheap duplex sandwich cookies, I should be a sight to behold. Even in death I’ll be aggravating poor Jenny who will be thinking, “What kind of grown-ass man has only one ill-fitting suit? Even Beaver Cleaver had a blue and a gray!” Frustrated to the very end as she lays it out on the bed to take to the mortician.
Now about that favor and the afore mentioned mix tape. I was going over songs this morning that I would like to listen to while lying in my casket. For this I will require a loved one to outfit me with a Walkman or boombox with a headphone jack and you should know that I don’t want those flimsy, sponge covered headphones that came with the Walkman but a really nice big set of noise cancelling headphones. Think Klipsch or comparable.
I used to think that most of my selected music would play at some point during my wake but I see no need for that distraction while you folks are catching up and chatting. Rather I’ve decided to prepare some atmospheric music for myself to enjoy as I transition to my new life whilst floating above and spying on the modest crowd gathered into gloomy, smallish Parlor B.
I think the mix will be heavy on the Brians; Brian Wilson, Brian Eno, and Brian May for example. I will definitely have The Beach Boys, Let’s Go Away For A While and other selections from Pet Sounds, maybe even some of the outtakes, with Brian shouting instruction from the control room. Probably Heroes And Villains as well and most importantly, Can’t Wait Too Long. Wait! I can’t possibly leave off Surfs Up, can I? Brian Eno will croon No One Receiving followed by the elegant and lovely An Ending from his Apollo album. Brian May and Freddy will be represented with It’s Late and perhaps Innuendo or Misfire. I’ll need also to drop in The Beatles Flying somewhere along the way.
Really I should have no problem rounding out two sides of a 90-minute cassette tape. Lee Hazelwood and Nancy Sinatra will work their creepy magic on Some Velvet Morning and I will have to add Blue Oyster Cult’s Astronomy, E.T.I. or Shooting Shark; that’s going to be a tough choice if I have to narrow it down to just one those. Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb seems appropriate for death and I will definitely want some Neko Case; either I Wish I Was The Moon and Hold On Hold On or maybe Challengers and Bleeding Heart Show from The New Pornographers albums. Neil Young’s Harvest Moon will be on there and I should have some selections from David Bowie and Leonard Cohen’s life and ‘death’ albums. Blackstar from the death and Word On A Wing from the life for Bowie should get the job done but could I possibly leave off Sound And Vision? That would be hard. For Cohen You Want It Darker is the obvious choice from the death album and it would be hard to top Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye form his life catalog, I even play the Roberta Flack version for that one. I won’t bore you further but I’m pretty sure some R.E.M., Linda Ronstadt, Radiohead and Talking Heads along with Ella, Bing and Frank will be filling in the gaps. Oh, and I can’t forget Glen Campbell singing Gentle On My Mind and I think I’ll toss in Warren Zevon’s Keep Me In Your Heart, just to get the tears flowing.
And here is where I’m going to need your specific help. Could someone please bring a little travel alarm clock and set it for 45 minutes so when one side of the tape plays out you can reach into my casket and flip to side B? Then reset the alarm so after another 45 minutes you can flip it again and press play. Thank you in advance. I shouldn’t think the visitation will last more than a few hours tops so if a few of you just take turns no one should have to do it more than once. I’ll really appreciate it.
Lest you think I’ve forgotten my beloved Johnny Cash, Hank Williams and Louvin Brothers, rest assured they will be heavily represented during the actual funeral service. Johnny’s cover of The Will Oldham song I See A Darkness is my only must have funeral song and my life’s summation. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, If someone gets the bright idea of playing On Eagle’s Wings at my funeral, I will sit straight up in my coffin, all zombie-like and eat the brains of every attendee, so watch it with that nonsense.
I can’t imagine a more narcissistic exercise then lying in bed imagining my own funeral but since I am fully committed I only have one more request. I would like every girl from grade school, high school and beyond, that I ever met, to show up and wail with teeth-gnashing, hair-pulling, garment-rending grief of the kind that gripped the world when Valentino died. That will make me feel really good and might cause a slight smile to form on my dead lips. I’ll be lying there thinking, what a turnout, even that girl I had a crush on in the 9thgrade showed up!” She’ll reply, “Dude, I’ve been dead for thirty-two years, I’m standing right here!” I expect there will be some confusion acclimating between the quick and the dead come the afterlife.
At any rate, I hope to see you there one way or another. I also hope my wake doesn’t fall on the same evening as The Blues playing a game 7 for the Stanley Cup title. That would suck. By the way, what song is a must have for your wake or funeral? I’d love to know and if you need me to flip a mix tape or bring a snack to your casket, just let me know.
