I am told by those stupid enough to be called my friends, that I think about death far too often for comfort. This blemish on an otherwise perfect character is probably a gift of nationality as many of my comrades seem to spend whole days toasting seats in corner cafes, lethargically discussing the latest obituary and predicting the size and quality of the tombstone.
Whenever I visit the mountainous village of my birth, it strikes me that I have seen these same people drinking Campari in these same bars for almost four decades. They are plumper and less boisterous, likely to cry very easily at the latest soccer failures, but still singing the same old refrain. Perhaps the road to long life, is after all to practice a slow death....lol
Anyway, I re-wrote my will recently and removed all allusions to being buried as a JW, preferring after all to be buried by people who get paid for the job and do not use my carcass as a marketing ploy to snare the hapless. I am going home, to be entombed next to my mother and father under the cypress trees, in the valley by the village, the valley of my infant dreams.
Every so often I come across a song that has more than meaning and pleasure, it makes some kind of universal statement I am sure that you all know what I mean. This is the one I have chosen to be buried by..lol. I am quite serious.
It was written by a dear friend who tragically passed away a few years ago. Not only does it bring back shared memories of that cherished summer in New York in the late 60s, but also sets the tone for how life should be lived - as a "Free Thinker.
Lets face it, no-one gets out of life alive. So how about it, what song would you like accompanying the chimney or the spade, what would be your preference? And do not forget, put your choice in your Will, otherwise you might find people weeping to the semitones of 'Lets Watch How We Talk And Watch How We Walk', chosen for you by default.....lol
Edited by - hillary_step on 27 August 2002 12:52:48
Edited by - hillary_step on 27 August 2002 12:55:3