Seeing the grave monuments to the Collins brothers at Shiregreen caused me to consider my own demise as I drove along the motorway to Hull this morning. Naturally, I was off to watch Hull City draw 2-2 at home to Everton.
I have decided that when I die, my family will be instructed to build a grassy mound in the middle of our local park - Endcliffe Park. On top of it will stand a marble statue of me in my prime. It will be twice my actual height making it exactly twelve feet tall.
The funeral ceremony itself will have no religious content whatsoever as I have never believed in that bumph. Instead there will be a couple of Yorkshire rock and roll bands - The Feisty Whippets and The Tweed Flat Caps along with poetry readings by two of my favourite bloggers - Steve Reed from London and Jennifer Barlow from South Carolina.
Meike Riley will sing "Nessun Dorma" which means "no one shall sleep" and using only a ceremonial stainless steel garden spade, Roger (Cro Magnon) will be charged with digging the hole into which my bio-degradable cardboard casket will be lowered.
Australian bloggers Elsie and Andrew will perform an unclothed aboriginal war dance and Bob Slatten who blogs out of Camden, South Carolina will take the mike from Meike to sing "In The Ghetto" by Elvis.
It will be a marvellous affair - long to be remembered in the annals of Sheffield folklore. Afterwards, the thronging crowd will be directed to Sheffield United's BramalL Lane Stadium where local Asian restaurateurs will have prepared a sumptuous curry meal that no one present will ever forget as the RAF Red Arrows aeronautical display team weaves crisscross patterns in the sky.
If the Collins brothers funeral legacy was meant to be impressive, it will not be a patch on my own. Yes that is the way I want it and it has all been clearly written down in my last will and testament. To defy my dying wishes would be abhorrent, almost unthinkable and frankly - sacrilegious.
Now I don't want to hasten your demise or anything, but I can hardly wait to see that awesome funeral you're throwing for yourself!
ReplyDeleteI hope you will hide your beaming face behind a veil Debra.
DeleteOkay, I won't defy your dying wishes. I will let others attend to the work and expense. Have fun!
ReplyDeleteI just hope you will be there Red.
DeleteIt is rather optimistic to think there will be a well trodden path on the mound to your feet. I won't be getting down and kissing them, that's for sure. Perhaps people will just want to touch 'oh great one' for good luck.
ReplyDeletePlease don't touch my groin Andrew.
DeleteI hope you have also made provisions for someone to be your successor at the Laughing Horse Award.
ReplyDeleteI am afraid that The Laughing Horse Awards will die with me.
Delete"an unclothed Aboriginal war dance" Unclothed?? In cold cold England?? You've GOT to be kidding. Also tribal dances are sacred things and not taught to us white people. I will sit at the base of the mound and eat memorial yorkshire puddings.
ReplyDeleteI never realised you were so bashful Elsie.
DeleteIf they dare to defy your wishes, I'm sure you go ang haunt and spook them forever!
ReplyDeleteYou can read me like a book! Spooky!
DeleteTell me the date, need to get it on the calendar and book the train tickets!
ReplyDeleteLet's say April 1st 2027. Not long to go now.
DeleteYou could start Sheffield's own necropolis like the one I saw in Glasgow.
ReplyDeletePerhaps - except I want no other monuments near mine.
DeleteOh no. Sorry I can't be there for that big occasion. I'm washing my hair that day.
ReplyDeleteI forgot to mention that you will be leading the wailing dance troupe JayCee - the honour of your lifetime.
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