OK… so most of you know this already, but it never hurts to reiterate, since we were probably drunk when we had the original conversation…
When I die, do NOT bury me, CREAMATE me. I’d prefer a huge funeral pyre blazing on a make-shift wooden raft right around mdnight in the middle of a picturesque lake located in a beautiful valley and surrounded by rugged mountains, and thanks for asking. Yeah, yeah, yeah….. I know… how often did I ever get exactly what I wanted out of life, and why the hell would I possibly expect it to be any different after I’m dead?
Do NOT put me on some somber display and mourn my death. Don’t cry, or try to be quiet with murmurs and whispers in what some call “respect”. If you love me, and know me at all, then you know I’d hate that. Instead, build a bonfire by the afore mentioned lake, party like you’re 21 again, plaster my picture on one of the kegs or coolers, and celebrate my departure. Be happy for me, ’cause i’ll FINALLY be far away from Wynne, with no chance of ever having to return. I’m pretty sure Amanda can supply you with the appropriate photo. She displayed it on her mom’s fridge for YEARS. Try to do it on some private property somewhere, with permission of the owner, of course, so the cops can’t bother you.
For the music, grab my cd case and crank up the volume. Sarah and Steve know my favorites. Hell, Sarah still has my absolute favorite cd, and Steve has copies of my top 50 tunes. LOL! But for the very last song… the epitaph… the eulogy… the final farewell… I want you guys to raise your glasses, flick your bics, smoke a fatty if ya wanna, and play “I’m moving on” by Rascal Flats. It fit me the first day I heard it, it fits me to this day, and it will still fit me when I’m gone. And yes, kimmie, I’d be thrilled for you to lace a hog-leg with my ashes and smoke me up, so I could be with you “forever and ever”. It might just be the sweetest, smoothest smokin’ thing you ever toked on!
Don’t think for a second you have to talk about “the niceties” of my life, or the rougher times I made it through. Instead, tell the stories of the stupidist things you ever remember me doing. Talk about my dumbass ideas, hair-brained schemes, off-beat ideas, and the goofy quirks I had. I once read “you are only as strong as the tables you dance on, the drinks you mix, and the friends you roll with”, so party hard, drink hard, hugg each other hard, and remember that i loved you, and would do anything for you. I’ll be with you always, and you’ll know when I’m there. I’ll be the thought that makes you laugh out loud in the middle of silence . When you trip over your own two feet, or lose sometthing you just sat down in front of you… that would be me fucking with you. When your watching porn and need to suddenly turn down the volume or go to a black screen because someones suddenly walking in unannounced, I’ll be the reason you can’t find the remote, the volume suddenly blairs and the power button is stuck. When you just can’t believe something that stupid happened… I caused it. I’ll also be the tune you find yourself humming, the $20 you didn’t know you had, and the dumb-luck that saved your ass.
So… don’t miss me when i’m gone, ’cause I won’t be!