Life, Death, and the Kitchen Sink

I probably have lost all my readership I once had. In a way that makes me a bit sad and then again… I guess it is for the best. Can’t be spreading my corrupt thoughts into the mainstream now can we?

Muhahahaha


Little bit of catch up.

I go one last time for full custody of all my BAD boys. The pre-hearing is January 10th then the very next day my Ex-wife is facing contempt charges. Fuck I wish that just one time they would throw the book at her - Doubt that will happen though - I do know that in any case if they tell me to bugger off then I’ll be heading to Oz sooner; if the full hearing comes about it will probably be April or there about; before I can go. Another problem with all this that has arisen is the Judge said that she does not see how us moving could possibly be in the best interests of the children and can put a court order in place to keep me from moving them. To sum that up – If I leave the country or the state with them in tow I will be sent a warrant for my arrest for contempt charges as well as kidnapping. Now how the fuck can I (who has never done shit but get a few speeding tickets) get charged with stealing my own kids? Mother-Fuckers!

My Grandfather on my Dad’s side passed away this last week. That was drama in and of itself. Let me just say that my dad somehow worked his way out of the ghetto and made his own way. And the rest of them (90% of them not all but close) are as much trailer trash as one can come. They are family and it is cool. I can deal with it - or try to.

So I show up at the funeral and am glad to see I had no need of wearing a suit (I had a feeling before hand and just dressed in some slacks and a button down). There was the cousin in a “Wal-mart Special” sweater and a pair of jogging pants (But they are clean!!), my other cousin (her sister) wearing a moo-moo type of dress that tries to conceal the 47 belly rolls (doesn’t help hun). Then we are off to meet another cousin (yes she is the sister of the afore-mentioned). Who has 4 kids and is living with a black man and has an Oreo baby. Now don’t get me wrong here I am not prejudiced and this man was quite friendly. The thing that gets me is that I had no idea we got dark meat swinging on that side of the fence. It is one thing to hear the gossip before hand to prepare you but it is totally another to see it unexpectedly. Oh shit we cannot forget the husband of the oldest (He was in his best overalls yeee-haw).

My dad has two sisters and one of them fancies herself as an intellectual. For the most part I can get by with a “howdy-do” and “by your leave”, but for some god be damned reason on that particular day she kept coming up to me and saying my name. Then with a giggle tells me that she knows my name and wanders off. The other sister comes up to me and my dad whilst we were trying to keep out of the way and says” Oh My God, you have grown a couple inches since I last saw you!”. For some reason I decided to argue the point that I had –in fact- not grown in any way taller. This back and forth lasted a couple minutes before my dad steps in and says “Yes, I think you have” - Jesus Christ people! To set the matter straight I have not grown taller one iota. You are just getting older and more shriveled in your height challenged world.
Did I mention that this particular aunt saw me just the year prior? Perhaps it is all the drugs she likes to take and keep mellow. Saw her son too - haven’t seen him since I was 11 or 12 years old. He used to be a big fat kid I mean HUGE! The best way to describe him is “haunted” there are too many ghosts chasing him and I am not really sure if he is going to out run them all. He had a few scrapes with Johnny law and went to jail for a bit of time is what I had been told, but as we got to talking he tells me that little bit of time was 4.5 years out early for good conduct! Holy Shit felonious ex-convict in the family as well. Seeing as how I am the Seeker I had to ask all the details of jail life and how it felt to be incarcerated then made a couple jokes about how the jail food diet is a good one look how much he had lost. He got a chuckle and it was cool to see him again even if I have no idea who that man is that stood before me other than we used to play in the creek together during the family reunions we used to have to attend before everyone died or got to fucking old.


We sat in the second pew of the little chapel on the cemetery grounds. In attendance my guess would be 30-40 tops. This left plenty of room for everyone to spread about yet stay close enough together to not seem distant. In the pew in front of us sat my uncle and his family. He has two daughters and a new(ish) wife. I can remember when I was younger that we used to go to his house and visit all the time so I grew pretty close to his eldest daughter. She was from a previous marriage and it didn’t matter to use she was family and still is. Shit man her mom is divorced from my uncle but she still is there and is a big part of everything and everyone as anyone else I’d say. Her mom is a bit crazy, she was a Christian freak and by Jesus you didn’t cuss, listen to that devil music or watch TV. Odd thing about people who are like that – they always tend to go off the deep end at some point. From what I understand of the whole situation is that she and my uncle were having a few problems while they were living in Texas. During this period of time a high school reunion came up and before she decided to go she demanded a breast enlargement. Long story short she got the boob job, went back to Oklahoma for the reunion, met up with an old boyfriend, and never went back to my uncle. There is probably a lot more that I don’t know about in the whole mess, but that doesn’t matter – this is gossip and I am spreading it around.

Got side-tracked there; back on course we go.

Sitting in the pew directly in front of us was my uncle and his entourage. This really didn’t bother me they are the most normal of the bunch, after you discount the youngest going through the whole Goth phase and the eldest hooking up with a loser that did so much drugs he brain fried himself so that he is a veggie platter (hold the veggies). He used to beat her and such and she was also into some heavy drug usage from what I recall. It had been years since I had seen her and the last time we had a good chat she had a broken arm (yeah the stir fry guy did it) and she was trying to get clean. Well she cleaned up and got back to being the hotty she always had been. It’s funny now that I think about it, but every time we are around one another there is this whole unspoken rule where we do not really talk to each other but say hello and then wait for the other to try to broach some semblance of conversation. It never really happens until we are about to leave and then we get all chatty. This time I figured I would finalize it and started chatting and she got my email address so we could stay in touch. To be honest I hope she emails me; I would like to stay in contact with her and talk about how things are going in her world. I guess just to make sure someone is keeping an eye on her. My grand-pa did for a long time and once he got sick she just floated around like a turd on top of a bar of soap. She’ll do ok, and if she doesn’t well then all I can say to that is she fits in well with the rest of the members of the clan.

One thing I’ll say bluntly here is that I do not understand funerals at all, but I really get confused when people get all crazy with the emotions. My uncle had some sort of nervous breakdown in the middle of the fucking thing and was sobbing such a cacophony of sound that I thought he was going to fall prostrate upon the ground for a moment. I know all of this sounds a bit crass, and perhaps it is. The issue with me is the “why” of what was going on. The man is dead and all the screaming, yelling, hollering, crying in the world will not bring him back. It presents itself as a possible deeper issue for my uncle and that he is in an emotional state of disarray. Please do not get me wrong here I do believe that crying is an effective release for feelings of joy or sadness/grief, but to cause such a scene is a bit awkward for everyone involved. The whole incident leaves me with the question about simple decency. If one is going to have an extreme outward display of emotion then they need to do it behind closed doors where it does not intrude upon my inner peace of mind. As you can see the whole affair has caused way to much analysis and has taken seconds from my life that I could be losing to a nice cigarette.

As far as my father is concerned I think he did quite well. Of course he was sad and the tears fell, but he did so with a quiet personal genuflection and it was in such a way as to relay to the innocent by-stander that he felt a true loss, but was accepting of the fact that death has a place in all things.

There is so much more I could tell, but why should I? The fiasco of life and death has become an institution for those who wish to profit and make a dollar or three.


My personal feelings about death are simple. I am made to naturally dissolve back into the earth from which I came. It is a part of the cycle of life that takes no space and is good for the environment as my carcass would provide nutrients for plant life. There is a downside to all of that where as my fellow humans could not and will not tolerate a massive pile of bodies decomposing in the sultry summer air. The stench would be strong and would carry across the breeze ruining a good few appetites. So as a medium to this argument I am a proponent of cremation. That’s right baby! Burn my ass until I am as crispy as a potato chip. Then take what’s left of my ashes (and yes they are going to be co-mingled with some other dead fucker), do not spend any money on a stupid ass gathering and go take whatever money I had left and take a trip and scatter my remains to the 4 winds but by God you better have a one hell of a time while you are out on my dime.

Perhaps if I am extremely wealthy when I die my final resting place will be a huge ass mausoleum -one in which visitors may enter and see my sarcophagus in a stately manner. At the end of said crypt there will be a statue of me sitting upon a huge throne –scepter in hand- letting all who enter know that “yes I am the most awesome mother fucker you’d ever get the pleasure of meeting. The outside of the entire structure will be ensconced in black marble, hand-crafted by the finest artisans to resemble a castle.

Why Not?

If you are going to take up space with your dead body you might as well do it in such gaudiness that even Liberace would be struck down speechless.

I swear to the great Buddha that the entire time I was in the funeral I kept hearing the theme music to Dukes of Hazzard County coursing its way deep into my psyche. If you have not figured it out, as of yet, I do not really care for that side of the family tree, and definitely hate funerals or anything to do with them. I would like each of you to pay attention the next time you feel like you need to go and see what type of underlying current you can detect. What kind of staged bullshit will set off your meter? Life is about living, about learning, about dying. The sooner you accept that truth, the sooner that weight will be off of your shoulders.