Editor’s Note: In this post, I jokingly plan my own funeral, which I hope doesn’t happen for many, many decades. Sometimes the more serious a topic, the more likely I am to annoyingly poke at it with an incredibly sharp stick. If that isn’t your cup of tea (along with juvenile humor), I might skip this one.
Would you want to attend your own funeral? It’s a question probably as old as death itself. For me, the very idea induces both heartwarming feelings but also feelings of deep anxiety. I feel like I’ve lived a good life so I’m pretty sure the speakers at my funeral would have good stuff to say about me and the life I just concluded. I hope the people planning said funeral would know me well enough to pick out some “oh that’s 100% Matt” songs and passages from The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, etc. to read to those in attendance.
But also… what if they didn’t have such great things to say? What if I have grand visions of a large gathering, but it rains that day and everyone decides to stay home (which actually happens more often than you might think)? What if they select a subpar Beatles song to open the ceremony? I know that’s just the anxiety talking, and ultimately, it doesn’t really matter; I’ll already be long gone into whatever the next phase of life is (even if it’s literal nothingness) and the funeral will be, like all funerals, about and for those in attendance.
So to Hell with the anxiety and the worrying and the deep navel gazing that I’ve been doing the past couple weeks on this site; I’m going to have some fun with all of this. I may not be able to attend my funeral service, but I sure as Hell can plan this sucker. Last warning that you don’t have to read this. I laughed writing some of this, but I’m more than happy to just be a party-of-one on that.
Still here? Okay let’s do this:
Location: Let’s do my funeral where I spent most of my life, in the parking lot of a Target.
Date and time: TBD, but I’ve always had a feeling I’m going to die in the middle of the summer. … or at last it will be while it’s hot out, which if our current global climate trends continue would mean anytime between February and early-December. To split the difference, let’s do my funeral at 3:00pm on the first Tuesday of August. Compared to where I’m headed after death, an August summer in Texas will feel like a nice cool autumn day. Just keep me on ice until the day.
Musical prelude: I want these 5 songs played at my funeral before it starts. “Since U Been Gone,” by Kelly Clarkson, “Bye Bye Bye,” by *NSYNC, “You’re Dead,” by Norma Tanega, “Lord Abortion” by Cradle of Filth, and “Hot In Herre,” by Nelly. click on the link below for a playlist of those songs and a few more bonus ones.
Open casket or closed: Let’s go with open. Wait… I plan on donating my body to Dell Medical School so the new medical students can practice their Gordon Ramsay knife skills on me, so maybe closed is better after all. *thinks* Okay, if whatever remains of me by that point is suitable for viewing; open. If whatever remains of me could easily fit into Ziploc bags; closed.
Officiant: I want the person leading my service to be someone I barely knew, but also some I kind of knew just a little bit. I essentially want the person leading my service to give off “I didn’t do the summer reading so I’m just going to wing this book report in front of the class on the first day of school” vibes.
Hymn: I don’t know what this one is called, but it’s an ancient song passed down by countless Armenian generations from the old country. My church used to sing this on special occasions and it’s a great “call and answer” song between a choir and the congregation.
Wake up
Congregation answers:Wake up
Grab a brush and put a little make-up
Hide the scars to fade away the shake-up
Congregation answers: Hide the scars to fade away the…
Why’d you leave the keys upon the table?
Here you go create another fable
Congregation answers: You wanted to
Grab a brush and put a little make-up
Congregation answers: You wanted to
Hide the scars to fade away the shake-up
Congregation answers: You wanted to
Why’d you leave the keys upon the table?
Congregation answers: You wanted to
I don’t think you trust
In my self-righteous suicide
I cry when angels deserve to die
Father, into your hands I commend my spirit
Father, into your hands
Why have you forsaken me?
In your eyes forsaken me
In your thoughts forsaken me
In your heart forsaken me
Eulogies: Yeah, having my friends and family do my eulogies would be good and all, but let’s let my enemies have a go at it. Get that one Trump supporting high school friend I had a falling out with as an adult over the 2016 election. Or try to track down that one guy I almost got road rage killed by when, after being aggressively tailgated, I slowed down to 5mph on a one-lane access road and wouldn’t let them pass me. …until they did and shit got a little too real for a few minutes. I was young and dumb and admittedly in the wrong, but fuck that guy.
I guess it doesn’t have to just be enemies. How about that one Southwest Airlines gate attendant at Dallas Love Field who told me to have a good flight and I said “you too” as I walked down the jetway. Or how about that sales representative I was on the phone with and went full reptillian brain with an “Okay love you bye” as I was concluding the call? Get those people to eulogize me.
Reading: I’d like all of the poop related Facebook posts I wrote while stoned out of my ever loving mind to be read aloud. Or if not read aloud, perhaps written in the program of the service. These are probably what I’ll be most remembered for so let’s unleash my adolescent brain on the world one last time.
I like it when there’s a big ol’ turd flating in the toilet bowl when I get into the stall and I get to demolish it with my powerful urine stream. Makes me feel like I’m a mad evil scientist raining hellfire down on Dookieville with my giant urine laser beam.
Post written by a 32 year old man
Or this gem:
Charlie Bucket: Is that a rat turd or a chocolate sprinkle?
Willy Wonka: It’s both! Our rats shit chocolate sprinkles!
Charlie Bucket: …ummmm
Augustus Gloop, shoving a handful of rat turds into his mouth: Deez turds are amazing, Mama.
A real thing a 36 year old man wrote
Who can forget:
I don’t want to brag but “Took a long enough poop while on break at the new job that the motion sensor lights turned off” Achievement = unlocked.
…this was 3 months ago.
Pallbearers: The interesting thing about pallbearers is if one person can’t hack carrying the casket, it becomes much, much more difficult for each remaining pallbearer to bear the brunt of the remaining weight. So with that, I want my pallbearers to have negligible upper body strength. I want my casket dropped several times with increasing amounts of hilarity.
Transportation: One of my all time favorite Hollywood stories is the folks who designed the Regan “head spinning” dummy/animatronic robot from The Exorcist used to put said dummy in the front seat of a car and take it out around town to freak out unsuspecting drivers and pedestrians. I’d like that done for me, please. Just prop me in the front seat and drive me to my final resting place.
Cremated/Buried/Other: I want the full Darth Vader. Funeral pyre my ass as teddy bears use my henchmen’s helmets as drums and dance around me.
That it? I think that’s it. I think that’s a winning funeral right there. Although most of this is in jest, there are actually a few ideas I might try to get into writing. The fun will be in people guessing. MY fun will be in never telling. You’ll just have to be there.
An open and shut book 
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