VIRB

(pulled from my archives; circa Feb 2006)

Lately I've been thinking about the fleeting nature of this adventure we call life. I don't linger; it just pops in and out of my thoughts throughout any day. It could be part of getting older or maybe it has been stirred up, as my drive home every evening takes me past a plethora of funeral homes. It seems for the past month, those places have been booked every single night. Police directing traffic around the cars parked for blocks along the road. Crowds of people dressed in black, shivering in the night air. Some are weeping while a select few seems to pull a smile out of it all... Nonetheless, I breeze on by.

This has brought me to the conclusion that I WILL NOT leave this place in such a manner. You can all still wear black if you'd like. I love black. Just don't wear it in a mourning manner. Wear it in a "Damn, I look good in black and I sure the hell wish Brad could see me now" manner. Also, lets keep the crying to the minimum. Sure, I hope there are a few there that will be forced to tears, but as for the rest, only focus on crying if the mini bar has run a'dry. Yeah, that's right. The mini bar.

Without further adieu, I will now get to the purpose of this already drawn-out post... Do you recall the huge craze of adding the "ICE" (In Case of Emergency) entry into your cell phone? It was all over the news and print media for several months and then quickly faded away. Some wise guy out there thought that if I put an ICE number in my cell phone, that it would make his job easier when they find my lifeless body after that oh-so tragic cow-tipping incident. Hell, no. I want him to thumb through my entire address book, struggling with who he should call to share of my demise. What's he gonna do? Get mad at me? I'm DEAAAAD.

I feel that upon the heels of such an idea that I, too, need to impart my own upon society. Today I am going to build a playlist in iTunes. I will delicately lay down my melodic legacy; one by one, dragging them to their final resting place on my iPod*. I will then lower my head, shed a few tears and etch the words "A Funeral Mix" as the name of the playlist.

Now, when the mini-bar gets rolled out and you walk in the door wearing that snazzy black number, you will hear some good tunes a'thumpin; all hand-picked by the dead guy over in the corner. Classy, eh? :)

I'm late for my electrotherapy appointment (kidding) and need to roll. So I ask you... What would be your Top 5 choices for your own funeral? C'mon! Realize the futility in fighting old age, and give it up. Top 5! Go!!!

Author's Notes:

* God does not judge upon the brand of your music player, though I may. :)

** For you stuffy pants out there, don't take this too seriously. It's supposed to be fun. No rude emails today, okay?