My take......... and........ well, damnit, that's what blogs are...... blogger's take... my take in this instance.......
If you've come here with some frequency, first, I ask... "The hell is wrong with you?"
Then, you'll remember I overdo stuff....... the 'two beers at the Landing'... sports, way too much.. love for little kids..... pets.. even cats! LYRICS. It's like chewing on a gummy, they get stuck in there somehow.
And, obits.
Obits is, are......... a two, three, four paragraph summation, of howintheheck one spent their life on our planet.
Most........... are prim, proper. It's kinda like dressing for church... ya put on good stuff.. Shouldn't have that final take with collars and cuffs a mess... scuffmarks on the leather shoes... wrinkled knee pants... Strawberry syrup stains from Denny's. Nuh uh, no sir, don't. Stymie halt. No can do. Ya got one, ONE shot, to do it right, correct, within reasonably specific guidelines.
I vote, patooey.
In fact, one'a my favorite recent obits I read... stated... "Life was never a straight line." (If Fred Flintstone were an undertaker, I'm quite certain he'd agree, rejoice with, "Yabba dabba cadaver!")
No parking by the sewer sign, hot dog, my razor's broke, water drippin' up the spout, but I don't care, let it all hang out.
Like:
He much preferred the company of Cocker Spaniels over people.....
He enjoyed gardening, The Rolling Stones, and.. dumping an entire fifth of Old Crow in the punch bowl at Church.
He had an addiction to sticky notes... He'd steal a bundle from work... He'd leave sweet nothing notes to his lady... uplifting, 'go get em' quotes for his kids, grands... and, once or twice a year, he'd drive to work, park in the Owner's designated spot, and leave a note "I had to pee.. REAL BAD."
Education was important to him... in fact.. he 'Babbled" his way to fluency in Korean, Chinese, Vietnamese with the express intent of walking into a nail salon... preparing himself so 3/4's of the way thru a pedicure, he would sing (in the corresponding Korean, Chinese or Vietnamese) either "God Bless America", "Bohemian Rhapsody", or sometimes even "You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up", he'd mix it up.. . all, much to the chagrin of the little gossipers who'd been talking about him, giggling their way thru the entire pedi. All in fun, he tipped well.
He (and his spouse) enjoyed fine dining, dancing, and an occasional cocktail. Darn near ever Friday night, they'd go thru the list of upcoming weddings, pick the one that looked the richest, in the biggest church... put on their finery... walk in (not knowing anyone).. and eat, dance, drink. From this.. over the years.. he got two job offers... three new golf partners.. a seven figure 401K thanks to their untapped entertainment fund, and many a hangover.
He was emotionally deprived as a toddler... his mother was wonderful but quick to softly admonish when deserved.. , he'd be sitting in the seat of the cart in the store, would yank any, everything he saw, wanted, into their cart - and of course it was followed with "no.. put it back please." This possibly played into his later in life aversion to tossing things into the carts of unsuspecting shoppers.. you know, at Kohls once he threw a three-pack of neon thongs into a granny's cart.. a 36DD lacy bra into the cart of a 5'2", 90 pound hotty... and... he' d drop an unopened CD of Carly Simon's You're So Vain into some dude's cart that looked like maybe he earned it.
Perhaps his prized possession was his cardboard cutout of Bernie. "They" would sit in the front porch swing and visit... go on float trips... driving trips to nowhere in particular in his Tesla, with Bernie at the wheel.
Never ever a fan of "You Can't!" he would attend his neighborhood HOA meetings (remaining silent).. but soon after.. "Watch me!".. he'd pay his cousin Eddy fitty bucks to park his RV overnight infronta the HOA Pres's house.. he'd pull her trash bins out on Friday (Monday was trash day).. and he enjoyed spray painting her mailbox in psychedelic colors.. and, once every six months or so, hookup a clothesline between her Mercedes and her next door neighbor's Escalade and fill it with overalls.
He didn't really have a police record, but, over the years, he was tossed from three movie theaters when they spotted his squirt gun... came just shy of being up on assault charges at a teeball game when he threatened the mother of a seven year old after she'd screamed at his son (the umpire) at the top of her lungs.. and then that time he got pulled over for speeding, chose to remain silent, "speaking' to the cop in ASL.
Strangely, there was even one obit where the funeral was gonna be at night... hence, "We'll leave the light on for you."
Love, Victurd
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