For someone almost completely devoid of spirituality, I'm really weird about wakes. You just have to go. It's not optional. If the person knew your name, you go. Funerals are only slightly less de rigeur.

I've been to three wakes and two funerals in the past week and a half.

Wake #1 was for a business acquaintance. He was in his late 50's, and he died after a long struggle with cancer. He was a well-loved man, and the place was very full. The queue to say condolences to the family was quite long. I stood there for at least 15 minutes. Not knowing anyone in the family, I was waiting to offer my condolences. There was a group of guys about my age ahead of me in the line. As I got to the head of the line, and was about to introduce myself to his wife, her gaze swiveled right past me to the people right behind me. Obviously, they were people she knew. And she must have assumed that I was a tag-along to the group ahead of me. But I felt pretty stupid. I lingered for maybe five seconds, and walked away. In that five seconds, I thought, "Hey, I drove in to work today, paid for parking, drove 20 miles to get here, stood in line so it wouldn't be awkward that a complete stranger is viewing the casket, and spent time away from my family, and I don't even get to offer a handshake?"

But, who the fuck cares, right? It was a very mild "Curb Your Enthusiasm" moment.

Wake #2 was for my Uncle Mike. My Mom's baby brother. He had spent the day hanging out with my Uncle John and one of his friends on John's boat. They'd stayed docked, as the skies were pretty threatening. As they were walking back to their cars, Mike stopped to light a cigarette. He collapsed. Landing head first on the pavement. My Uncle and his friend tried CPR, but he was dead before he reached the hospital. My Uncle Mike lived alone. He was 58 years old. Six foot seven. Heart attack. The funeral came and went. We've been cleaning out his condo ever since. Mostly trips to the dumpster. My parents are hell-bent on throwing away (or giving away) everything in there. Just to be done with it. We came across a Lionel train set from the 40's. They asked if I wanted it for the Sysmidgets, and I said no. It was headed for the dumpster. But I said, "I don't care if we get any money for this, but there are people who love this stuff." We brought it to a train hobby shop, and they actually gave us a pretty good price for the stuff.

On Saturday, I was pitching an old broken TV in the dumpster. A 70-ish woman saw me and said, "Is that TV any good?"

"Not anymore, for sure. No. It was shot. But we have another one upstairs if you want it."

So I carried the TV up to her floor. My Dad told her that she could have furniture, too, if she wanted it. She said she didn't need any, but her grandson had just graduated from college, and had an apartment to furnish. She looked at me and asked, "what school do you go to?"

Old people crack me up.

This is a groovy Fifties kitchen table. Somebody has to want this thing, don't you think

Wake #3 was for my wife's Aunt. Alzheimer's. This leaves my Mother-in-Law as the last one alive from her and my Father-in-Law's generation. I am closer to her than I am to my own Mother. My Aunt's grandchildren (all in their teens and 20's) served as pallbearers. One of the girls was wearing a very somber, skin-tight black body suit, baring a considerable amount of mid-riff. Her husband was quite handsome, with his dead-eye, "Only pussies show emotion" glare. The only sign of heart from this guy was her name tattooed on his neck. They have two kids, named Jaden and Jasmine. WTF? One of my wife's cousins is a deacon in his church. This gave him license to take an overly long, awful Catholic rite, and stretch it another 50 minutes. Captive audience. I was borrowing that dead-eye stare after awhile.

My wife and I agreed. We don't care who dies this weekend. We're not going to a funeral.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 26, 2006 at 1:27 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.