I attended a funeral yesterday. It’s never a fun experience, as I’m sure all you know. It’s a time when families are united by their sadness and, I think, pride. Proud of who they are as a family, proud of their closeness, of their past and their future. But, above all else, they are incredibly, incredibly sad.
And this one was too. Luckily, my family is such that after the funeral, we spent hours speaking of years gone by and eating delicious Jewish food. We made jokes (everyone loved mine), looked at photos, told stories. It was great. I left last night feeling really close to my family and also really happy.
Yet, I wonder about my funeral. I’ve never really planned it seeing as I’ve got quite a few years left in this hunk o’ junk body (Just kidding, body! I love you!). I suppose funerals aren’t like weddings, where a young person plans it in her head years before it comes to pass. To be honest, I don’t really care about the logistics of my funeral. I don’t care what I’m wearing, I don’t care about the weather. I simply want people to have fun.
You see, there will be no speakers at my funeral. There will be comedians. My funeral will be a roast of Brandon Marcus. Since I’ll be gone, it’ll be no-holds-barred. Say whatever you want, break all boundaries! No subject too taboo! No word too vulgar! Maybe I can get Future Bob Saget to say a few words (although, in all honesty, Future Bob Saget isn’t nearly as funny as Bob Saget).
I’ll invite some clowns, a Jolly Jump and maybe a giraffe or two (I don’t know the asking price of a giraffe in 2084 so that might not happen). Music will be playing, punch with be served. On the walls, portraits of me with mustaches scribbled on in black sharpie. The food served will be hot dogs and chips and the rabbi will be required to wear a shirt that reads “No Fat Chicks”. And me, I’ll be laughing in my grave. Not literally, that’ll be a recording playing from inside the casket.
Some people may not be willing to laugh. I understand that, but this will be my wish. I want my funeral to truly be a celebration of who I am/was. And who I am is somebody that thinks we should mourn and grieve but also celebrate and laugh. I try to find the humor in all things. I’m hoping that people see my personality shine through in my crazy circus funeral.
I also want to be cremated and mixed into the punch. That way, a little piece of me can go home with everybody.
Oh, and I’m going to throw it at three in the morning. But that’s just because it’s mean and I find humor in it.
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