Wednesday, August 27, 2003

Obits 'R Us

My usually witty and erudite Ice Queen is displaying an odd obsession with death lately. While doing the dishes last night, I think to myself "If she died, and I wrote her obituary, what would I say?" Don't grimace at me... she started it!

But who would write my obituary, and would it do? I think I should have final sign-off on my definitive, ultimate, narrative, don't you? The thought of somebody else "peacefully-at-homing" me, or more likely, "suddenly in Chinatown" is worse than the thought of being dead. The only way to have control over this is to do it myself, and post it here until the bell tolls for me.

"Gracefully, without a mark on her crisp white blouse, our dearest Crabby has departed for the epicurean land of bon vivants in the sky. She leaves behind recently polished copper-bottomed pots, three exquisite music box tables from Florence, a notable collection of sapphire jewellery, and the most astonishing tulip bed in the neighbourhood. Philanthropic to the end, Crabby has instructed that her coveted recipe collection, neatly bound into a book that she designed herself, be auctioned off on e-Bay, to raise money for a honkin' new motorcycle and tickets to Wrestlemania for Mr. Crabby."

Hey, it's my obituary... I can say whatever I want.
What's yours sound like?