Dead Again

JackAlbertFirst of all, if you’ve never seen the 1991 movie Dead Again, it’s a great rental. That’s not with this post is about, but the title is appropriate for my week. I should begin by saying that Albert and I got Apple TV for Christmas, and recently hooked it up. The best thing about it, besides the actual television streaming, is that it can play a slideshow of your photos from your computer. So, whenever the tv goes idle, pictures from your past start floating across the screen. It’s lovely.

I have already told you that somebody from the Hollywood Forever cemetery recently came by to try and sell me a space in their dirt. This is not a door-to-door salesman anyone wants coming by, really ever. I could be at death’s door, hemorrhaging blood, and would still tell the cemetery salesman, “I’m not ready!” So, it was somewhat unsettling that I got at least three reminders of my very old age this week. It began simply, with yet another invitation to join AARP. Um, I am 45.

The next day, I got a postcard from The Neptune Society. These people have skipped my retirement and are ready to cremate me. They have been “caring for families since 1973.” And by caring, I mean burning. For the record, I could care less what happens to my body when I pass, because I won’t be around to watch. I’ll already be off haunting people, which sounds like an eternal surprise party.

The next day I had another salesman come to my door, from a different cemetery, this time in North Hollywood. I can’t spend eternity in the Valley. Also, the salesman presented me with a brochure in Spanish, and I’m not sure if I have time to learn another language before I pass.

At this point, I am pretty sure that I’m dying. The salesman from Dignity Memorial in NoHo is packing up his briefcase of doom and leaving the house, and I am wondering what the hell is going on. Am I being punked by God, or is my time here coming to an end? I turn around toward my television, and my whole life is passing before my eyes, one beautiful friend and family member after another. Yes, I guess I’m dead, and heaven is a bungalow in Hollywood. Boo.

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