My Final Wishes

In the past 8 months, I have said good-bye to 3 of my favorite uncles.  I know that with the blessing of age comes the curse of more frequent departures, but I'm still not a fan of the traditional funeral process.

During the evening of my Uncle Richard's funeral, my Dad made comments regarding what he'd like to see happen at his own memorial service and my sister said something to the effect of "you won't know what we do; you won't be here."   (In my family, jabs are expressions of love, so don't take that the wrong way-he didn't).  I said "I don't knoooowwwww....  he might...."
And I started thinking-what if I did get to (or have to) see my own memorial service?  What would I want to happen?  Maybe I should spell it out.  I hope to outlive you all, but just in case...  these are my final wishes:

When you are 100% certain I am not breathing, cremate me.  I hate enclosed places.  The only full-on anxiety attack I ever had was when I had an MRI.  Elevators and UT football games make me sweat.  Give me wide open spaces; room to make big mistakes.  Eventually, let me rest on a bookshelf somewhere.  Or you could take me shopping from time to time.  I'd like that.

As for the memorial service itself, rent out the Bistro or the place where Manhattan's used to be.  I dig both.  Actually, any dark place with barstools will work.  No open bar--I know my friends.  My family couldn't afford the bar tab.  Sorry about that.  I do expect you to drink, unless that's a problem for you, and then I expect you to drive everyone else home.  Rent a bus.
(And if I'm actually THERE, in my urn, please put me waaaaaayyyyyy out of reach.  I know I'm not the only joker in the crowd.)
As you walk in the door, I want you to put on a name tag with your name--your REAL name--and how you know me--you can use your discretion on that one.  When in doubt, "old friend" will suffice.  Some of you have been in & out of my life for 40+ years; you've changed.  Don't count on my sister remembering you.
I expect there to be biscuits and cheese aplenty.  Deviled eggs would be nice too and french fries for everybody!  This will not be the night to watch your cholesterol or count carbs.  Live it up!
Play music.  I love 80's stuff--that oughta bring tears to some people's eyes.  Jackson Browne, America,  Fleetwood Mac and CSN&Y are good too.  The Pet Shop Boys' "It's a Sin" and Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" would be apropos.
Tell funny stories.  If you've known me for longer than 3 weeks, you've got one.  Tell it.  I already have.  Laugh so hard your sides hurt.
Someone needs to wear a turtleneck inside out and backwards; act like you don't realize it.  Someone needs to drink enough Goldschlager to pass out in a bathroom stall.  I hope at least one of you walks head-long into the front door or drops your keys down a storm drain.  I'm a sucker for physical comedy; I supply a lot of my own material.  Eat cake with black icing and stick your tongues out at each other.  Remember that life ain't so serious.  Hug the stuffing out of each other.  Someone recite A Parable of Immortality by Henry Van Dyke.
http://www.spirit-path.net/parableimmortality.htm
If you are so inclined, light a candle, say a prayer, and rest assured that I am already making mischief on another plain.  And when it's time to wrap it up, play this song.
 It's my song for you:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vm-xui5HFDc


P.S. One last request: on the Friday before UT's first season home game, gather near WBIR and when the Pride of the Southland Band begins to play "Rocky Top" to open the 11 o'clock news, let the bottle rockets fly.  I'll leave it to you as to where you aim...