July 20, 2006
~ It's My Party and I'll Die if I Want to, Die if I Want to ~

Pat gets a no-prize in a casket that's holding a sparkler for bringing us the latest in boomer excess... party funerals:

At a time when Americans hire coaches to guide their careers and retirements, tutors for their children, personal shoppers for their wardrobes, trainers for their abs, whisperers for their pets and — oh, yes — wedding planners for their nuptials, it makes sense that some funerals are also starting to benefit from the personal touch. As members of the baby boom generation plan final services for their parents or themselves, they bring new consumer expectations and fewer attachments to churches, traditions or organ music — forcing funeral directors to be more like party planners, and inviting some party planners to test the farewell waters.

My religion tends to advocate things like tossing the body off the edge of a cliff and then watching the vultures party. Considering the squeamishness of modern westerners, and their oh-so-proper "zoning laws*", this is probably as close as I'll get.

Which is not really a bad thing. Funerals tend to be the last thing to bring a grown-up family together. Why not get hammered and play goofy games? Hell, if it's good enough for the Irish, it's good enough for me!

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* I mean, really... just when someone's got a really great opportunity to help people ponder the impermanence of life, someone else has to go ruin it with, "oh God what a smell!" and, "do you have any idea what having your husband rotting at end of the development is doing to property values?!?"

Priorities people, priorities!

Posted by scott at July 20, 2006 07:59 PM

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