No, Don’t Bury Me. Here’s What I Want.Posted: March 6, 2015
I suppose the right thing to do is to start by saying that I don’t foresee the plans I’m putting in place here being used for a long time. My health is better than it has been in years. Barring being hit by a meteor or being mauled by a bear, I’m pretty certain I’m going to live for quite a while. One hundred years is not out of the question.
But there is some wisdom in establishing my wishes for when it is my time to go. The last thing I want my family wondering about after I’m gone is my funeral arrangements. To be sure they don’t, I’m going to lay my wishes out here, in a place where they’ll be easy to find in 2061…or 2062, if I push it and go for one-hundred-one years.
Cremation seems the way to go. It’s cheaper, and it eliminates that whole situation where people show up at a funeral home to look at what’s left of me lounging around in a box. Let’s face it, no one wants to see that. It is a creepy tradition that has to stop. I’m doing my part.
That’s just the first step. Yes, there’s more.
I recognize those who love me will to gather and remember me. Also, there’s the matter of what to do with my ashes. I know where the best place to handle both of those issues is my favorite town, Key West, Florida.
Key West is known for great bars, but so many folks miss out on what a great food town it is. The further you get from the beaten path, the better you’re going to eat. I know my friends will be well fed, well watered and will treat my favorite town with the love and respect it deserves.
And as they eat and listen to music, and have a few beers, they’ll share stories about me. The stories will make them laugh and cry. They’ll get a good night’s sleep before my big send-off.
The Southernmost Circus Cannon
The next morning, they’ll go to the edge of the island. Here’s where the logistics of my final arrangements get tricky. What I am hoping is that when my friends and family get to Smathers Beach, not far from the airport, there is a big cannon there. It doesn’t have to be a big, military howitzer type of thing. I’m pretty sure that one of those cannons they use to shoot an acrobat across the arena at a circus will do. Actually, a big wooden catapult would suffice if there’s some resistance to a cannon being that close to an airport.
The cannon (or catapult) will contain my previously incinerated mortal remains, mixed with concrete and formed in to a cannon ball. After a few appropriate words are spoken about my heroic deeds in life, how I’m in a better place now and how people should smile when they miss me – boom goes the cannon. My concrete cannon ball will cut a graceful arc through the air and land out in the sea where it will provide the base for a new coral reef.
The concrete reef ball is a modification of my original plan. Initially, my thought was to have my embalmed, fully dressed remains fired from the cannon. However, given that I will be dead, I will likely not maintain an aerodynamic position throughout my flight. Seeing my remains flipping through the sky may be too much for my loved ones, who will be quite elderly by then. Several could die laughing at the sight. I don’t want that kind of situation on my conscience, even after I’ve expired.
I think this is unique enough that people will remember the event and remember me for a long time after I’m gone. I’m going to get someone working on the local permitting issues and finding a concrete finisher with a degree in mortuary arts to create my cannon ball.
Forty-seven years left. No need for anyone to rush to get started on this project.