Why Did People Stop Dying?

by Steve Barber

I don't remember exactly when I first became aware of it, but I have known for some time that people almost never die anymore. Don't believe me? Read the obituaries. You'll see. People pass away, pass on, or they're called Home to be with the Lord. But almost nobody dies. I'm not sure why this is, but I'm convinced that some people have gone to great lengths to make the language of death and dying confusing as all get out. Those people are called Obituary Writers.

People who write obits are the reason angels come to take some folks to Heaven while others apparently have to find their own way. But what if you're an atheist and don't believe in Heaven? What happens to you then? Who is there to guide you on your final journey, and where are you supposed to go anyhow? I'll bet the obit writers never thought of that one.

That's not all they haven't thought of. Here's more:

1.    When someone dies from a nasty disease, why does he have to have a courageous battle first? Aren't there any dead cancer sufferers who gave up the minute they got their diagnosis?

2.    Why, when people die, must they be either surrounded by their loving family or have their loving family by their side?  I'll tell you this, if I were concerned about my health and felt my life slipping away, the last thing I'd do is let my family near my sickbed. There's a causal relationship between circling relatives and death. I'm sure of it.

3.    Why can't I be sad when a friend or relative passes away? Why must I be bereaved instead? And did you know that when I go to the visitation, viewing or wake I won't see Uncle Rollo there, but I'll see Uncle Rollo's remains. His remains will, of course, be reposing in a slumber room. Why must dead people repose? Can't they simply lie there? And, you know, he's not exactly sleeping, so why do they put him in a slumber room?

4.    When dead people repose, they must do so in a coffin or casket. Coffins and caskets are overpriced boxes that have handles on the side, the top door open, the bottom door closed and contain a satin pillow on which to rest Uncle Rollo's remains' head, not that he notices. Why do they call them coffins when what they are are boxes?

5.      Uncle Rollo has had his jaw wired shut, little caps shoved up under his eyelids to keep his eyes closed, and his bodily fluids drained and replaced by noxious chemicals. The funeral home staff set his carcass under special soft lights and they've smeared makeup all over his visible body parts. Then people file past the casket and say, "My, my. Doesn't Uncle Rollo look natural?" Why do they do this and whom do they think they are kidding?

You want natural? I'll tell you what's natural. Cremation, that's what. Ashes to ashes and all that. And that's what I'm opting for when I finally cash in my chips, buy the farm, or exceed my 'sell by date.' But I promise you this. The first person that calls my ashes “creamains” is in for one heck of a haunting.

Steve Barber longed to be a shepherd, but never realized his childhood dream. Now, a lonely and bitter old man, he ekes out a marginal living by collecting returnable bottles, and by selling single cigarettes to small children. On rare occasions he blogs at http://whatdoyoumeanishouldstartablog.blogspot.com/

Romance on a Budget

Did you ever try to celebrate Valentine’s Day on a budget?

My budget includes borrowing art supplies from my children and crafting a card that would rival any second grade artist, but I wanted more for this year’s love fest. 

I asked myself if I could make a romantic dinner for two at home, after tucking the kids snugly in their beds.  Sounds budget-friendly and doable in theory, but allow me to demonstrate a real-life romantic dinner at home:

5:30 pm - Throw several dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets in the oven, rescue favorite stuffed animal from the grasp of the dog’s jaws, inspect and sign homework papers, and throw the clean laundry into the dryer. Take the dog outside because she’s chewing on your slippers.  Answer the phone.

6:00 pm – Get OFF the phone and scrape all black residue from the chicken nuggets. Serve your kids dinner. 

6:30 pm – Listen to reading homework; make sure the kids shower and brush their teeth; do the dishes; don’t kill the dog; go to the bathroom.

8:00 pm – Assign your daughter the job of setting a ‘fancy’ table.  Make her promise not to lick each fork to remove dishwasher spots.  Send your husband down to the corner market to get the cashews for the cashew chicken.

8:30 pm – Tuck your kids into bed, and take a much-needed shower.  Put the dog in her crate so she doesn’t push the bathroom door open and run off with your clean underwear.

8:40 pm – Tame your hair, paint your face, and dress in the first clean outfit hanging in your closet.

8:55 pm – Snack on the burnt crisps leftover from the kid’s nuggets.

9:00 pm – Start cooking.  Again.

9:30 pm – Serve a lovely cashew chicken dinner minus the cashews, because apparently there was a run on cashews this afternoon.

9:40 pm – Light the candles and take out the crying dog.

9:45 pm – Just as your husband leans into the flickering light of the candles to smooch your lips, the dog freaks out because your neighbor decides he’s going to shovel the sidewalk. Save the kiss for later and grab the dog before she wakes up your kids.

9:47 pm – Too late.  The kids filter through to use the bathroom and get a drink.  It’s an emergency, of course.  You can faintly see symptoms of dehydration in their eyes.  Let them taste your cashew-less chicken.

9:55 pm – Explain the importance of alone time between parents and threaten their lives with ten years of morning-til-night homework, year-round school, and a chore list that stretches to New Jersey and back.

10:00 pm – Throw out the cold chicken and go straight to dessert.  Assure your spouse that yawning and drooping eyelids are the latest signs of true love.

Reality says, when you have children, romantic dinners at home do not work.  My heartfelt advice to you is, forget the budget and GO OUT.  Beg your parents, friends, coworkers, family, neighbors, and the teenagers next door to watch your kids for a few hours.  Even if you have no money, go sit in the car (without the kids) and steam up the windows.  Just get out of the house! 

Tricia Gillespie is looking forward to a Valentine’s Day when she takes her own advice and goes out, sans kids.  She writes about real-life chaos on her blog, TheDomesticFringe.com.  She’d love for you visit!