I will not come to your funeral. Your wake, for sure, but I’m not very good at funerals. You see, I manage stress with humor. The more stress, the more likely I will go full Jerry Lewis on you. Everything is fair game at a funeral.
Rich’s Uncle Wayne was a Freemason. This is only an important fact because it turns out that fellow masons will come to the visitation hours at the funeral home, and they will arrive with a certain amount of solemnity and pomp. Or at least they will in Beaver County, Pennsylvania. I was trying to behave myself, sitting on a couch in the side room, speaking quietly with my sister-in-law. Then these old men arrived in full regalia, banging on a gong, and calling out to their brother Wayne. I tried to be good; truly I did. The worn couch rocked and rattled from our gagged laughter.