And bury me someplace I don't want to be.

This weekend, I'm heading out to a three-day house party. I'm planning to have a great time, save for one thing:

I might die.

Not that I'm going to any Burning-Man-with-Ether Festival or the like. It's just that, well, accidents happen. Having no next of kin, my funeral arrangements would likely be orchestrated by my parents. And quite frankly, I'm afraid that they're going to turn it into a downer.

So, I thought I'd sketch out a few requirements:

1. As much as I'd love something pithy on my tombstone, it's going to be cremation. Real estate's expensive enough as it is without the permanent squatters, so call this my bequeathment to Calgary. I'd prefer composting, but I think that's still illegal for some reason.

2. When the coffin is pallborn (?) into the room, I want "Wake Up" by the Arcade Fire playing over the speakers. The fact that the album's called "Funeral" just makes it better.

3. When the coffin slides into the cremator, I want the music to be "Siegfried's Funeral", in Wagner's Gotterdammerung. I'm not yet worthy of the honour, though, so this condition is basically my carrot-and-stick to keep me working hard at it.

4. There's going to be a wake, and there will be karaoke. "My Way" and "Green, Green Grass of Home" will be banned from the playlist.

Okay, that about covers it. Now I can go party with a clear conscience.

Have a good weekend!


SarahJanet said...

I'm a little concerned about what you think we're going to be doing? Should I be writing a will?

Gypsyhick said...

I'll book my buddies Karoake machine to err on the side of caution.

I do reserve the right to "sing" Sweet Caroline but I will try not to substitute your name for Caroline. Even if it would be really kitchy in a bad way.

Hope you live to tell the tales.

About The Author

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Canadian explorer. Chemist by training, biologist by nature. Long-time supporter and participant in National Novel Writing Month. Known as "Aquadeo" in most Internet circles. Also known as "that guy with the pants" to people who have seen me in certain pants.