people are stupid, really...no, really...

People do not know how to handle themselves around death. It's the one thing we can't study and report back on firsthand. Even for those who have faith, we don't know what it looks like on the other side...it is the Great Mystery.

Another great mystery is why people don't keep their mouths shut when they are wigging out. Wigging Out=Shut Up. It's a simple formula.

Here's some folks who didn't understand the formula:

One of my best friends said to me at the funeral, "I'm sorry, dead people creep me out." Hmm, that dead person was my father. Thanks, next...

Another closely related bloke said at the funeral,"Well, it's done. It's over with now." OK, let's go have a pizza party...right after I poke your eyes out...

From the freakin' funeral director came a detailed account of how he was going to try to manipulate a deep crease in Daddy's face and try to get it to "pop" back out so we could have an open casket. He then went into a detailed explanation of how when the body cools the blood thickens and it's harder to manipulate the skin...etc. You. Stupid. Redneck. Fuckwad. Save it for the mortician's convention...you're talking about my Daddy.

From my own mother (I'll chalk it up to being crazy with grief)..."Well, that's what's left of him" (pointing at the casket while talking to a relative)...

While we were picking out a casket for Daddy, an unnamed relative thought it was funny when she asked my mother if she wanted to go ahead and pick out hers while she was there. Yeah, real funny. Now, where did I put that darn pipe wrench...?

Then there's all the usual "oh, he looks so good," "they really did a good job on him..." Yeah, he looked even better when he was alive.

Even worse, we had some folks throwing a family reunion at the funeral. I had to tune out the laughing and knee-slapping. I'm surprised they didn't bring popcorn. You know you can choke on popcorn...

All the while, I was thinking if Daddy could, he would reach up and snap the lid closed and light up a cigarette while grumbling about the whole thing. Daddy was an extremely private man and to have all those people standing over him, staring at him, examining every hair on his head really, really disturbed me. I wanted to shoo them away like nasty flies.

Shoo. Fly. Shoo.