Okay, don’t panic, nothing is terribly amiss. And for the other two of you laughing and jumping for joy, stop it.
Yes, I’m feeling fine and no, I haven’t received any bad news. I’ve just decided that whenever it is my time to pass from this enchanted world, I’d like to have a reading of my will.
I fully anticipate that my darling wife will outlive me. Even though I have dodged a few close calls with the grim reaper the odds are totally on her side for that. And she of course will inherit all of the fruits of my intensive labor. But I’m setting aside a few particular items for an event. An event that nowadays we see far too infrequently. The official reading of the will.
No, I don’t consider it morose at all. It’s a concept we rarely get to experience in real life. We see it often in movies and on television. Remember on “The Honeymooners” when Ralph was asked to attend the reading of the will of an old woman who rode his bus and thought he was inheriting, “Her fortune”? Only to come to realize that her “Fortune” was the name of her parrot that she had left him? Classic.
The reading of my will, as it should be, will be quite official. Customized invitations, hand delivered (who will be the lucky person to inherit that job)? Those selected to be bestowed with one (or more) of my possessions will gather in a large room. Proper attire will be required, however, I haven’t yet decided if it will be Hawaiian shirts and grass skirts or pajama pants and “Life is Good” tee shirts. Behind a curtain will be the, “stash”, and as the lucky names are read their keepsakes will be presented to them.
I don’t quite know what will be the cause of my ultimate demise. But if it isn’t something quick or sudden I hope to have the time to make a final video that the inheritors will be forced to watch. Again, classic TV and movie scenes whenever the deceased appears before his loved ones for one final creepy message. A message, which, by the way, ninety-nine percent of the people disregard the moment they walk out the door. Such are the ingrates that we call humans.
But we don’t want to turn this into a memorial service. That will be another matter all together and by invitation only. That will be somewhere outdoors, sometime when its warm, where there will be plenty of good food, good music, and oh, NO ME.
For the reading, it hopefully will be raining, and if we’re lucky, windy (my least favorite weather after snow and sleet). I mean, really, once you outgrow kites and assuming you’re not wealthy enough to sail the seven seas, what is the purpose of wind anyway? And please don’t give me the wind turbine argument. Do they have to paint those things white? Why the hell don’t they tie-dye them and give those poor birds a chance?
Okay, so back to the reading. When a lucky person’s name is called, they will be forced to answer a trivia question. Probably related to entertainment. If they answer correctly, they take their prize and go. If not…well, then they will be forced to perform for their inheritance. Perhaps sing a song, or tell a joke, or recite a movie line. But they won’t be told what they’ve won until after they perform. I’m making this up as I go along at 5:08 am so this isn’t too bad actually. Videos will be made, You Tube releases if they’re really humiliating, will follow.
So, I’m sure you’re wondering what are some of the items that will be up for grabs, assuming we don’t have an IRS-induced liquidation between now and then. Well, not to give too much away, but THE SHIRT…you know, the black and gold one that I appeared in for about five years straight, during every summer function, circa 2012 -2017. How about my Dude Bobble head doll? Or my miniature-sized chariot from the Lost in Space TV series? Or the “Simplify” plate over my desk?
Shall I go on? Okay. My collection of Peanuts Holiday decorations, my fifteen year old Bolens lawnmower, or the holy of holys, the glass-framed version of my book, “Trapped in a Happy Life”. And you know what they say about things becoming more valuable after someone dies??? The value there sky rockets from $14.00 to $17.50 in an instant.
Mainly I suppose the fun of holding a reading of the will is to dispense little tidbits of advice one final time from beyond the grave (I have always hated that saying…what the heck does it mean, anyway? You’re not, “beyond the grave”, you’re IN the grave, or in my case, your spread among the wildflowers on top of Whiteface Mountain in the Adirondacks). There will be some final insults for a chosen few so decide carefully if you really want to show up and suffer a public humiliation.
But mainly, it’s because most people live their entire lives and never get to attend a, “Reading of the will”. I think, in getting back to basics, this is a time-honored tradition we need to restore to make this country grea… oh, brother, please don’t get me started. In fact, if you’re an up and coming politician today you could run and win on that platform alone. “My fellow citizens…if elected, I intend to resurrect (sorry, bad choice of words) the Reading of The Will to every household in America!” Running on that, as well as, “A Yodel in every cupboard” should be enough to win 45 states at least.
I like this idea so much that it’s given me another idea. To start to purchase specific will-related items to bestow upon some of my family or friends, who, let’s say, need a good laugh. Or someone to remove that giant stick from their rectum.
And I hope to leave a little doubt in everyone’s mind, when the time comes, as to whether or not I’m really gone. Except for my wonderful wife, no one will be able to view the final remains once I’m expired (again, who substituted that word for dead? Might as well send me down to the DMV for a renewal and four more years). She gets one quick peek, gets to identify me by checking that ass pimple I’ve had for 42 years to make sure it’s really me, before I’m off to the oven, set at 12500 for 15 minutes. And by the way, if I do outlive my wife, the whole thing is off. It would not be nearly enough fun without her at the helm.
So start clearing out spaces on your mantles, in your china closets and on top of the television cabinets (wait, does anyone still have one of those?), and for some others, clear a space in your garage or attic for more unwanted crap to come your way. Yes, that’s right, your inheritance comes with specific instructions as to where you need to display your cherished new possession. Duffy’s former athletic supporter, hanging from the dining room chandelier…priceless.
Now Madeline would just prefer we do the reading at our house so people can come and take their possessions and it saves her the task of having to clean the house out herself. Wait…I have a great idea. Instead of answering a trivia question or telling a joke, Sweetie could get rid of all my crap and get her house cleaned at the same time. For example, it could be, “Jim…Duffy wanted you to have his old putter. Please clean the out the gutters, pick up your putter on the way out and it’s been nice seeing you. I’ll write from Vermont”. Or, “Lisa…Mike loved you so much that he wanted you to have his still unfinished book titled, She was bread in old Kentucky, but she’s just a crumb up here. Please paint the shed on the way out before picking up your manuscript.” And for anyone who did not recognize the Three Stooges reference in the last line, shame on you.
By the way, I’m actually having all of my old golf clubs incinerated with me, along with the bag and my tees. And as for my old balls…shut up!
Trapped in a Happy Life 