You know it’s unAmerican to even acknowledge the existence of death…we’re like the modern-day Vikings, who don’t know the meaning of anything other than progress (however we choose to define it). Well, I do know one day that, as the Buddha taught (brilliant), “this body will be a corpse.”
But I don’t know how I’ll go. I know I’ll leave everything to my ma, if I go early, and I’ll leave my puppy to Caroline, should I depart this earth for…this earth…a little early.
But whether I go when I’m an old man or this morning, biking through the rain to the Trident to do some laptoppin’ and gyokuroing (I’m weaning my shaky self, yet again, from that urban drug known as the cappuccino)…well I don’t know how I want to be buried. And that’s irresponsible.
So, Dave Rogers and Noel McLellan, best friends, go here. Decide for yourself. I don’t want my burial to cost much. I want it to be low/no-impact. And I want lots of bagpipes played. I know it’s morbid, but if you search my iTunes for ‘funeral,’ you’ll find a few classics including, most importantly, Joe Strummer’s ‘The Minstrel Boy.’
hot on elephant
July’s Full Moon in Capricorn: The Heart wants what it Wants. The 4 Stages of a Good Divorce. Our Soulmates are Rarely Who We Expect. A Letter to my Children: You do not come from a Broken Home. Men, Let’s Stop Fooling Ourselves: Size Matters. To the One Who Tried to Break Me. An Open Letter to the Fixers. Mom, can I Call her Mom, Too? How your Stored Memories in the Amygdala can lead to PTSD. Jon Stewart makes first appearance since retiring—”it’s not your country.”