GBE2: Pride Not - Pine Box, Please

I recently read an intriguing article Six Great Ways to Remind Yourself That You are Poor at http://www.cracked.com. The author, although a bit dirty, had some valid points about just how difficult it is for a young person to survive in this economy. His last point made me think about something that I believe my kids know, but I would like to reiterate this idea to them and the rest of the world. DO NOT WASTE YOUR MONEY GIVING ME AN EXPENSIVE FUNERAL!

If my loved ones were to dare bury me in the gold casket above or anything other than a plain pine box, my ghost would haunt them by screeching, "You stupid, @$$! Why did you throw money into the ground?" Let's take a step back and think about it. When one is in a state that needs a casket, do you really think the person cares what kind of box they are in? You're dead! You can't feel the cushions anyway. I want to be buried in a pine box. Then, dear children, take the money you saved from not buying a fancy, smancy funeral and enjoy a good party on me.

Money should be spent on the living, not the dead. I come by my thoughts from my dad, who was buried in a plain pine box. He used to tell us, when I kick the bucket get JC (the custodian at his store) to nail a few boards together. I feel sorry for folks who feel they have to prove to others that they loved their parents by buying the most expensive coffin at the mortuary. That's silly. Pine Box Only! That, dear children is not negotiable. It's my final wish.

 

#GBE2: If I had my life to live over...

This topic is supposed to be filled with the age old wisdom of one who's tasted the ups and downs of life and has now matured to a quiet understanding. Yeah, right!

If I had my life to live over, there are a few things I might do differently:

(1) I would not have cried softly in Kindergarten after not getting to pet the snake but rather stood up boldly and announced, "Hey! You missed me!"

(2) Everyday in second grade, a classmate asked me to lend her a dime. Being timid, I gave it to her while knowing she'd never give it back. I probably gave her at least $2 - $3, with the interest rate from the sixties and adjustment for inflation... Hmm. I need to send her a bill or at least link this post to her Facebook page to prove I'm no longer that wimp.

(3) In a do over, I would have pitched a fit and refused to wear that polyester, light blue gym uniform because my mom didn't want to spend $7 to buy me a new one. In my childhood, a parent's "No" meant no without an argument, but that was important enough that in hindsight, I should have fought it or paid for a red one myself. That embarrassing uniform with my sister's initials scarred me for life! This morning, I searched the internet for a uniform as ugly as that one. I couldn't find anything THAT bad.

(4) I didn't need to date him or be intimate, but I wish I would have gotten to know him as he stood in the corner with his fraternity buddies and radiated his handsomeness. It might have been enriching to have become his good friend and vicariously enjoyed his rise to fame and fortune. He missed his chance. Brad Pitt and I went our separate ways.

I should have said, "Hello" as she sunbathed in front of her sorority house across the street, but Sheryl Crow also missed the chance to know me. We were all just kids not knowing which one of us was going places. If I would have listened to my professor and majored in education like he told me to do, I probably would have known her well. Ironically, I'm a teacher and she is not.

I know Yakov Smirnoff, and he's more fun than Brad Pitt and Sheryl Crow put together.

(5) When my husband gave me a compound sentence, "Will you marry me and live in Memphis?" maybe I should have negotiated the Memphis thing. Yes, I love him, but back when, I didn't quite get the full picture of what he was asking for. This red state of Tennessee can be a bit much. At least as of last Thursday, I no longer have a uterus for them to mess with.

Oh, Beth meant big stuff like career decisions, etc? I'm sure I never interpret her challenges the way she intends us to. Honestly, I don't have a clue about that. It's far too deep for me.

Eat Your Gestapo (Six Sentence Sunday)

As part of Six Sentence Sunday, http://www.sixsunday.blogspot.com, I've been challenged to post six lines of writing today. These six lines are from my unpublished novel, Being Bompsy Carleffa. Ben and Fiso, the crime boss father who Ben had just met, have a bit of a communication breakdown at the dinner table. I've edited my work from its original version to fit the six sentence challenge.

            After Gil placed a tomato-base soup in front of each of us, I blew on the spoon and took a sip of cold liquid. All this money, and these people couldn’t heat the food.

            “Do you like the gazpacho?” Fiso asked.

            I dropped my spoon on the table and wondered why he'd mention the Gestapo? What was he, a modern day Nazi? Sick; this guy’s really sick!

Thanks for tuning in. I'll catch you on Monday when I explore the letter U and Uncle Pancreas!

Tina Fartingle - Tooth Fairy Extraordinaire #AtoZ

Our family tends to go by the old adage, "Once you know the secret, you become a part of the game." This is how it went once my oldest kids discovered the tooth fairy myth with baby sister who would often leave notes under the pillow for the money delivering tooth fairy. This wouldn't have been so bad had they not decided to answer the notes and name the tooth fairy.

Artwork by Erica L. Lansky

Being the kids that they once were, these two clowns named her Tina Fartingle. Miss Fartingle made many visits to Erica and left notes, money, and even toys under her pillow. Come fourth grade, Erica was starting to doubt the existence of the tooth fairy but had her beliefs renewed when a friend in her class had the same tooth fairy with the same obscene name.

It all happened when another mother of a child in the class, happened to call me wanting to know the tooth fairy's name. To make matters worse, I taught her gifted child in my special class. I hemmed and hawed and finally blurted out, "Fartingle! But I didn't come up with that."

Needless to say, Emily's tooth fairy was also named Tina Fartingle which made the girls sure that she must exist. Smart little Erica continued the charade for many years after that. Why not? Even if you were fixing to shave, would you admit non-belief in something that brings money under the pillow?