Rules For My Funeral

I have had the unfortunate experience of attending several funerals. Prepare for a shocker here: they pretty much suck. Over the years I have made a series of mental rules refining what can and cannot be done at my funeral. For example, no open caskets. That is some seriously creepy stuff, and will leave an image burned into your brain that you do not want. Last week my uncle passed away unexpectedly. He was a very funny and gracious man, and also happened to be my godfather.  His four kids are much like their father, and I laughed so much retelling stories about his life that my stomach hurt. Then we had the service and the requisite tear-jerk testimonials from family and friends. That really, really sucked. I made me think: why do we do this? My only guess (other than for religious reasons) is that this is an attempt at closure. Later that evening, we were back laughing our butts off at my cousin’s house. It turns out my uncle used to drink this horrible crap called Ten High whiskey. My cousin bought a bottle (for $8) and we all did shot and nearly barfed. I thought to myself, THAT felt like closure! I now am fairly confident that I have the perfect funeral planned, and I am finally writing this down mainly for the benefit of my next of kin. Feel free to steal some ideas for yourself.

1. Already stated: NO OPEN CASKET!!  Cremate my body, and leave the remains at the crematorium. I do not want a macabre urn sitting on the mantle with my ashes inside. Spreading them somewhere seems messy and gross (the ashes scene in Grown Ups comes to mind). You can get closure in points 5 and 6 below.

2. The “funeral” will actually be just a family reunion of sorts. Family and friends who can make it just hang out at the house, eat too much food, and tell funny stories (much like I did last week).

3. If you know me well enough to be comfortable hanging out with my family, you are welcome to come over. If you are not sure, come anyway because I am confident my family will make you feel like you belong there. Just be prepared for a very funny and LOUD bunch.

4. There will be no church service, and no one is to tell any stories which might induce crying. I especially don’t want you to show to everyone a heart-wrenching card created by a preschooler hoping I get better. I don’t know where you would get such a card, but one materialized at my uncle’s funeral last week. Seriously, don’t pull that crap.

5. I don’t drink liquor, but I do drink a horrible “beer” (I am using that term loosely) called Bud 55. Everyone has to shotgun a Bud 55, and the video disseminated to all via YouTube. Warning for those attending: this may lead to vomiting. This is closure activity #1.

6. My sister has graciously offered to sing Gangnam Style at the function. I would prefer she learned Korean before doing so, but if I die suddenly she can wing it. We decided on this primarily because my cousin sang at my uncle’s funeral, and it was nice. I tried to think of a song that had absolutely no chance of being melancholy, and I think I nailed it. Knowing my sister, everyone will probably laugh so hard they will barf a second time. This is closure activity #2.

For now, this is my perfect funeral. If my mom or my wife (less likely) tries to change these rules, please direct them to this blog post. I will update as necessary.

Update: my sister informed me to correct the grammar in this piece without specifying where the mistakes were to be found. Thus, I have consulted the Word grammar editor, and made the requested changes. Hopefully this post is now up to her exacting standards.