Wayne Boatwright wrote:
> On Sun 29 Jan 2006 12:12:35a, Thus Spake Zarathustra, or was it cathyxyz?
>
> > I have attended a few funerals in my time and there has indeed been food
> > and drink served at the "wake". However, after the service, I did not go
> > to all my other friends and say "Wow, what great food they had at that
> > funeral!." I don't even remember what they served at the last one I went
> > to - it was for a young boy of 18 who had been killed by a drunk driver.
> > All I remember is the incredible grief. That's what I find ghoulish. And
> > IMHO, no matter how one dies it is ALWAYS a terrible thing for the ones
> > left behind. I know that having a wake or whatever you want to call it
> > is traditional in most religions; I don't have a problem with that - but
> > I still feel that discussing the food served afterward, with strangers -
> > who never even knew the deceased, is not something I can bring myself to
> > do.
>
> I agree with you Cathy. Never until reading it here have I heard of people
> going to a funeral anticipating what kind of food was going to be served,
> much less writing a review of it afterward, and even comparing it to a host
> of other funeral meals they've had. I guess if you read Usenet long
> enough, you'll eventually hear everything. :-)

Back in the early 80s this guy who I didn't know well, but had drank
beer with a few times on the Riverfront in downtown St. Louis died
after falling down an elevator shaft at a warehouse where there was an
illegal party going on. I had gotten a ride to a party on Saturday,
and unbeknownst to me, everyone else at the party had planned on going
to the funeral the next day. As a rule, I don't do funerals because
corpses but I had no other choice unless I wanted to spend a shitload
on a cab.

The funeral was bizzarre because Mike and his brother* were the only
African Americans in the StL Punk scene, and the pallbearers were
mostly White guys with big, green Mohawks and such, and the pews were a
mix of Black folks in their Sunday finest and punk rockers dressed,
well, like punk rockers.

In the "Order of Service" pamphlet there was a thing that said "The
Viewing of the Remains." Me and my two buddies were trying really hard
not to crack up about that because the last thing we wanted to do was
be disrespectful. Eventually it got to that part of the service, and
we just let people squeeze by us to go up there to "view the remains."
It became much more challenging when the minister looked right at the
three of us and said, reaching out and up with his arms, "Everybody
view the remains," then when he noticed we weren't budging he added,
"If you wants to." It took all each of us had not to just lose it, but
we all manged.

On the way to the wake I was starved and I was trying to get my buddy
to stop and at least go through the drivethrough at Popeye's. I was
practically begging him, but he wouldn't stop. Then I remembered it
was an African American wake, and figured that it was pretty well
certain I'd be served fried chicken. I wasn't disappointed.

* A couple years later the guy's brother put out my wife's hair that
had caught on fire. The rest of the wussyass punk rockers just backed
away, but Marcus without hesitation grabbed her hair and put it out.
This was about a year before I met her.
>
> --
> Wayne Boatwright

--Bryan