As much as I hate dying, and leaving behind a body for people to visit, I've made lovely plans for the after-viewing.
One summer evening, many, many years ago, I realized that my favourite dance spot in Toronto was dead smack in front of a funeral home. Looking for any excuse to philosophize, I kept saying to myself, 'Lili, enjoy life, death is across the street!' And then I thought, what a brilliant idea, after visitation, mourners can come straight to the reception. I leaned forward and told my friend to make sure that a spoonful of my ashes is spread somewhere in the vicinity of the dance floor, where I feel the freest.
Tonight, as I was tapping my feet to Jimmy Buffett's The Party at the End of the World, I noticed that my favourite joint in Cobourg, is also dead smack in front of a funeral home!
Far be it from my little brain to solve this cosmic puzzle. I'm just happy that whether I die in Toronto or in Cobourg, my ashes will end up at the feet of some musician.
"You surely must attend
The party at the end of the world" |
| LIFE |
 |
| DEATH |
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