To paraphrase Carl Reiner,
“Every morning I read the obituaries before breakfast. If I’m not in them, I eat breakfast.”
That’s me, except I don’t read the obituaries.
First, because the older I get the younger those who’ve died from old age seem to be.
The other is, if I know you, I hope someone will let me know in a gentler way. If I don’t know you, why would I care?
You say you want to know what celebrities have died? No problem. Social media will blast that news everywhere. No need for an obituary. Social media will even make you think someone died who hasn’t.
Fans will miss Celebrity Fake Ass now that they’re gone.
You frantically open the “article” and read and read and read past countless advertisements for anti-aging products to eventually discover said celebrity has left a long-running show. Boo Hoo. But at least your skin will now be lifted, refreshed, and wrinkle-free when all the elixirs you ordered show up at your door.
Back to us ordinary folks.
, or “dare to be average” as he refers to himself, and I made a pact that we humor writers would write each other’s obituaries to make sure they’re funny. I’m working on yours, David. No hurry for mine. But it better have me rolling in my grave laughing. No pressure.
Why shouldn’t I leave the world laughing? I gave everyone a laugh coming into the world when I was born ass first. My mother said after I was grown, “Carol was born with her legs over her head and she’s been that way ever since.” Yeah, she’s where I get my raunchy sense of humor.
Maybe people who read obituaries do it so they can then sit back, sip their coffee or something harder and say to themselves, “I win.”
Outlasting our enemies or frenemies is a victory. A bit of a Pyrrhic victory, but a victory nonetheless.
I prefer the Zen approach.
“Stand by the river long enough and your enemy will float past you.”
That sounds much more relaxing.
Clarence Darrow said,
“I never killed a man, but there are some whose obituaries I’ve read with pleasure.”
I won’t name names, but I’m sure there are many of you reading this who will chortle with suppressed or not so suppressed glee when a certain Orange Menace is invited by the Grim Reaper to that great Insurrection Inquisition in the sky.
This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.
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