Death week continues at FTR...
This afternoon Kristine and I are headed to a "celebration for the life" of one of her coworkers who died earlier this week following a brief bout with cancer. Judging by the bouyant mood, the laughter, and the Jimmy Buffet tape playing in the background at the wake last night, I would guess that in this case "celebration" is not a euphemism for funeral.
Though I didn't know Mike, the deceased, well, he always seemed like an easygoing, generally happy guy. He was, you may have guessed, a Jimmy Bufffet fan, and he lived out the Parrothead philosophy to some extent. Even owned a parrot. Those attending his celebration this afternoon have been directed to wear hawaiian shirts, and advised that the festivities will move to a bar later in the afternoon. I suppose I will drink a margarita in Mike's honor.
In a note written shortly before he died, Mike directed that a verse from a Buffet song be inscribed on his headstone, the final lines of it reading
I'd rather die while I'm living than live while I'm dead.
I think he got his wish. One could do worse.
To avoid standing on the wrong side of that couplet, I think one additional fishing trip this August will be in order.
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