Feelin All RIght?

I've been putting together music and stuff for the funeral/memorial service. The other day on Facebook I asked if it would be appropriate to play Joe Cocker's "Feelin Alright?" for a song. I got mixed reviews on that one to say the least. Maybe it's the line "Ya feelin alright? I'm not feelin to good myself" that spoils it for people. So, let me ask this. Is a funeral a place to celebrate the life of the dead, or a place to mourn our loss? Probably a little of both. I say we should celebrate. Can you feel sad? Well, yeah, I would think that would be okay, sure. But instead of making it a sad thing with crying, gnashing of teeth and rending of cloth, why not have a good time, if that's how the person lived their life? Why does that seem inappropriate?
  I don't know why that's not the norm. I have fun, so that's how I'd like my funeral/memorial to go. Don't you think that's more appropriate than an hour of dirges and dire speeches about how we should be remembered? I'm a cut up, it comes naturally. That's why I like "Feelin Alright?" for one of the songs. Hell no I'm not feelin to good if you're listening to that at a funeral. It cracks me up thinking about it. I take a lot of things seriously, but I hope I figured out when to be serious and when to crack up. I think people retain more serious information if you give them a second to laugh a bit. I do at least. Nothing put me off more, or let my mind wander more than a lecture that was "Just the facts. ma'am".
I'd like to be remembered as the guy who knew his shit, but could laugh about it as well. As a group of people we've gotten to the point we can't even laugh at ourselves. Anything that's said that's off color or slightly inappropriate we get offended and demand an apology. Boo hoo. Time for us as a society to get the hell over ourselves and learn to laugh a little at our foibles. I laugh at mine, stop being babies and laugh at yours as well. It's surprising how much more fun life gets if you're not wandering around with some damn chip on your shoulder about one thing or another. Life is too effing short to spend it offended by what goes on around you.

 So, I was thinking back on some of the stuff me and my buds did when I was  a young feller. Dennis Folk, a guy my little brother introduced to me, and I got to be good friends. I know this, because we hadn't spoken for years, and I called him up. It was like we just walked across the street and started yapping like it was yesterday. Dennis and I ran around a lot. Didn't get into too much trouble, I don't think. but we laughed a lot. One summer we decided we could save ourselves a butt poke of cash if we cooked and ate at one house. We used his. Probably safer that way. That and because he had a better grill and we could cook out front, drink beer and watch people. Pretty cool. Oddly enough, on Friday or Saturday nights we'd be cooking and Dennis phone would ring. "Nothin, cookin out. Wanna come over? Yeah, bring somethin for the grill and your own beer?" We'd end up with 10 or so people out front cooking, drinking beer and laughing. I'm sure the neighbors were impressed. Actually, though, we never got stupid loud, or out of hand. It was fun, It was one of those things that if we tried to do on purpose would have gotten out of hand because the usual riff raff would have wanted to crash a real live party and caused trouble. Not that on certain occasions along that time I wouldn't have welcomed a little trouble, that was the wrong place and wrong time to do so.
  Dennis and his lovely wife Teri, took a fella named John Bach and I to Wilson Lake one year for some water skiing and (hard to believe) a bit of camping, grilling, and beer drinking. John and I rode in the back of the pick up with the gear. In Great Bend Ks an old Impala convertible full of girls our age pulled up beside us. John and I were goofing around with em, hollerin "jump in!! We need dates for the lake!" and stuff like that. They were laughing, talking back to us. This next piece needs some set up. John was dark headed but one of the more fair skinned people I knew. He'd sun burn like Dracula. So, on the way up he's slathering on Coppertone like there's no tomorrow. So here we go.
The girls are having a hoot at us, asking for beer. No, you can't have any unless you're in the truck with us. That kind of thing. One of the girls whistles, we look and she's got her hooters out in the wind. Nice ones too, I was impressed. John looks at her, then squeezes the bottle of Coppertone as hard and fast as he could. Creamy white Coppertone shoots into the air, is picked up by the wind, and lands on boob girls chest. You couldn't have done that better if you'd planned it and filmed it with a porno camera. I can still see it like it was in slow motion. The laughing girls, suddenly going dead quiet as the Coppertone, in it's innocence flies into the air and begins it's torpedo run. The smiles turning to abject horror as the wind catches it. Fear now, and no where to hide as it makes it's decent. Touch down!!! Screams come now, and scurrying away from hooter girl to opposite sides of the back seat. John and I damn near fell out of truck laughing. "Did you see that shit?" "Oh fuck yeah! You couldn't do that again if you aimed!!!". I'm laughing as I write this. John  was a hoot.
 Once at Kickshickers he was semi polluted, looked at my mom and said "Mrs Smith, may I kiss your luscious ruby red lips?". Mom never batted an eye, "Why of course you may" and smooched him full on. "Thanks, now I can go dance with the girls". What a nut. He was leanin on the hood of his truck one night at closing time, I walked up and asked what was goin on. "I can't remember where I parked". Hmmmm, tell ya what, lets go eat, I'll take you home and we'll come get it in the morning. So we did. Went to eat anyway. He never called the next morning, so I went out about noon and his truck was gone. I'm not sure he remembered how he got home or that he even ate.

  That's why I think I want to have a fun funeral/memorial. Not all the sad shit that goes on. We should have a blast. Don't you think?

Fair winds and following seas, today, my friends