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| Spiritual Humour |
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| Free Sausage Rolls and Warm Beer |
| I've been thinking about my funeral. Not that I've been feeling unwell or anything, but I am fast approaching 40, and these things need to be considered in case I get run over by a steamroller. I suppose if a steamroller did flatten me at least I could be buried in a large envelope and would save money on a coffin. Funerals appear to be quite a lucrative market and I am surprised that big businesses have never got involved; they could sponsor all aspects of the service: "This funeral is bought to you in association with Mr Whoopsie's Ice-cream Parlour - a real taste of heaven." Vacuum cleaner companies could also get in on the act and make themselves some spare cash: "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust - can now all be removed with the new super suction bagless vacuum cleaner at all good hardwear stores." A friend of mine attended a funeral recently where the man in question had suffered a long illness, and had organized the whole service himself, even down to a letter to be conveyed by the vicar. "I will miss you all," it read, " after the service you are to go to the pub, where I have left �200 behind the bar for you to have a drink on me. All that is, except my best friend Norman Retallick, who has been a real tight wad all his life and never once bought a round!" Now thats leaving with style. |
| I quite fancy a Viking send off. A coffin in the shape of a long-ship would be good. It could be set alight and floated out on the nearest boating lake. |
| Why can't I have a round one? |
| The real truth, of course, is that, 'I'm as dead now as I ever will be.' Life is eternal. I will merely shift in consciousness (normally only achieved after 8 pints of beer). There's a good chance that I will attend my own funeral anyway and look down from the 'other side,' just to see who's bothered to turn up for the free sausage rolls and warm beer. A close uncle of mine died unexpectedly. For a while after he'd left us I found it hard to come to terms with. One night he visited me in a dream. He took hold of my hand and placed it on his beard, this was his way of telling me, 'look, I'm fine.' "Don't be so intense," he enthused, "I didn't laugh enough when I was on your side, but here it's great, I can do anything I want, I can even fly. Cheer up you big cuckoo and get over yourself." At this point he started to leap around the room ecstatically. He looked like John Cleese with a wasp in his pants... |
| his arms and legs pumping up and down and coming out at right angles. "I've never felt so alive!" he chuckled. I laughed and laughed. He wasn't dead, far from it! I woke up with tears streaming down my face, and found it even funnier when awake. (Mrs R. however, wasn't so amused to be woken at 3 o'clock in the morning by her husband, braying like a donkey - but don't worry - I smothered her with a pillow and she soon dropped into a deep sleep!) |
| If I choose a burial I will insist on a fog-horn being placed in the coffin with me, just in case the doctors have it wrong and I wake up, I could just give a few blasts. Passers-by however, might wonder why they can hear a ship in a graveyard. In the end I think I will choose a cremation. I would like my ashes scattered the length of the wines and spirits isle in Tesco's, after all, that seems to be where I've spent half my life. One thing is certain: I don't want any long faces at the service, so strictly no horses... |
| Other aspects of my own funeral to be considered are: Do I want to be buried or cremated? |
| Why do coffins all have to be the same shape anyway? Why can't I have a round one? Or, to be different, a guitar shaped one? In fact, Marital Aids companys have missed a trick here, imagine the marketing possibilities if they made coffins, "New from Erotic Marketing: The Vibrating Coffin. Be coming while you're going! |
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| Nick considers his own immortality (or is that immorality?) and dares to think 'outside the box' |