September 23, 2008


Over & Out

It's occurred to me that the only thing I read in one of my local papers is the obituaries. It's sad, but true. I mean, I've always read them, but I used to read other stuff as well. Now, just the obits.

If I travel anywhere, the first thing I do is grab a copy of the local-ist paper I can find. You'll learn more in ten minutes doing that than you will from any tourist brochure. And the obits tell you a great deal.

A group of us were supposed to get together a few months back to write our obituaries. Nah, it's not creepy. Read some of the stuff that other people say about you when you're dead, and I say seize control and tell the real story. There's nothing to spur you into action like writing your own obit and realizing you haven't achieved a fraction of what you set out to do. It's also okay to realize you maybe have done some pretty great things, but not realized it. We shall reset the date. I'll order the wine. It figures this is my version of a tupperware party.

Anyway, from Fark comes this obit, written in advance, that cracked me up. In part: "He was sadly deprived of his final wish, which was to be run over by a beer truck on the way to the liquor store to buy booze for a date." Read the whole thing here.

A couple of years back I stumbled on a website that had the best obits on it. I foolishing forgot to tag it, but if anyone knows of it, lemme know. It was British, of course. There's nothing they can't celebrate with a pint and a joke - and I say die as you live.

1 Comments:

Anonymous jmd said...

Haven't thought about my obituary, but I want my epitaph to say "I TOLD you I was sick!"

September 23, 2008 10:09 AM  

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