It's somber Tuesday...so keep it down!

Friends, I’m sure you’ve heard of a shotgun wedding, but have you ever heard of a shotgun funeral? And, no I’m not talking about someone waging violence at someone’s funeral…although that can be kind of funny in its own way.
 
I used to work with a woman who came from a huge Italian family in Ohio someplace. At the head of the family were five brothers, none of whom got along particularly well with any of the others.
 
At some point, I believe it was in the 90’s, one of the brothers died. His remaining four brothers, all well into their 60’s I’m guessing, agreed to act as pallbearers.
 
At the funeral Mass, all of the brothers were gathered in the section reserved for family of the deceased, though none was talking with any of the others.
 
As they rolled the casket of their deceased brother down the aisle of the church, all appeared somber enough. No one was exchanging glances or saying anything. Outside the front of the church there were several steps down to the sidewalk where a waiting hearse was positioned for the trip to the cemetery.
 
The brothers lifted the casket off the roller thing and start down the steps. One of the brothers makes a comment that one of his brothers takes offense. Offended brother dropped his corner of the casket and moves back to punch the offending brother who drops his corner spot to defend himself and a fight ensues. The casket falls onto the steps and slides down the steps, coming to a stop with a thud at the bottom. All four living brothers are now punching one another and swearing loudly on the steps of the church. The Priest is trying to break up the melee, no luck there. The cops escorting the funeral had to get involved to restore order.
 
That’s a true story. Obviously, I’ve missed out in life. I don’t recall attending a funeral with that much action.
 
But, I digress…
 
I saw something on Huffington Post yesterday that made me think about writing this posting. And, while I realize it’s seldom fun to think of your own mortality, this put an original twist on things…or, did it?
 
In a place called Hurricane, Utah (probably named for Ezekiel Hurricane), the son of Vietnam vet who had recently passed away, spent a great deal of time packing his father’s ashes into 50 shotgun shells.
 
The idea he had was for family and friends to visit an outdoor shooting park in Southern Utah, where they would take turns blasting dad out the barrel of his favorite 12 gauge (a Wake of sorts in a dry state like Utah). There was a comment in the story that the father enjoyed visiting the sports park and shooting his guns. The local funeral director commented that it was a fitting tribute…uh huh. Funeral director would like say anything as long as the check clears. Just sayin’.
 
That story got me to thinking…first of all, does it strike anyone else how weird this must have been for the son? Or, even weirder for the family and friends shooting the dad’s remains into the air?
 
Let me explain…
 
I found a number of articles online that kind of, sort of explain how to do this. There was even one from NPR entitled “Ashes to Ammo”. For those of you not into the DIY thing, there is a company in Alabama called Holy Smokes (what else?) that will do it for you.
 
But it seems that the son did his own loading of the shells. That’s the part that kind of freaked me out.
 
For those of you who don’t know the anatomy of a shotgun shell, you have a primer encased in brass on one end. The body of the shell is thin plastic though shotgun shells used to be made of heavy paper coated in wax. The primer is what ignites the powder, which expands upon ignition and shoves the wadding outward against the shot (looks like little BBs), which in turn explodes out the end of the shell which is crimped…blah blah blah…quail falls down. Ah, dinner!
 
So, in this particular case, in place of the shot, we have Dead Dad. So, Dutiful Son is packing his father’s ashes. I can’t imagine. He’s there, presumably wearing rubber gloves and a face mask, packing Dead Dad’s ashes into the ends of those shells. Wonder what he did with the little fragments of bone and teeth that are left when someone is cremated? See what I mean? The whole thing is kind of creepy.
 
And what if you’re one of the “lucky” 50 (remember, he made 50 shells) who get to shoot Dead Dad into the air? Think you’re off the hook? Yeah, maybe, but only if the wind doesn’t shift and blow Dead Dad’s essence back into your eyes, mouth, and nose.
 
Oh…and who will clean the shotgun once the shootin’s done? Nothing says eternal love like a Remington oil swab with bits of Dead Dad stuck to it.
 
But even those two items can’t beat the weird burial customs we find in Tulsa where it is apparently customary to carve up the embalmed corpse. Tulsa is a strange place.
 
What’s next? You put your deceased on a raft in Ft. Supply Lake, set it ablaze and let it drift around the lake burning where it’s a hazard to navigation to drunken water-ski demons?  No, the water of that lake is reportedly toxic enough without adding your dearly departed to the goo.
 
The Nephew is doing a lot of long haul trucking lately. I’ll bet you could slip him a few bucks to open the window as he’s rolling down the road and spread your slobbery old aunt across three or four states.
 
The cemetery in Cosmic City is filling up fast and can’t be expanded (too many high end houses surrounding the place – guess the neighbors are quiet). So it’s up to us to come up with unique ways of disposing of the remains you get dropped into your lap.
 
We at CCB will give that some more thought. Let us know if you have any brilliant ideas.

---