It’s time for the annual Friday 5 Scattergories questions. The random-letter generator gave me a P.
1.
If you can schedule it, what would you like for your last meal?
P makes it too easy: pizza, of course. My problem with pizza is that it’s so filling, and you kind of want your last meal to take a while. Or at least I do. I’ll save a little bit of room for pie at dessert, too. Apple. Ala mode with cinnamon ice cream.
2.
Where would you like to be buried?
I want to be buried in centerfield at a major league baseball stadium, which of course you can’t do. You can’t scatter your ashes out there either, ‘though many people have tried. However, since I’m dictating things, we’ll go with it. Three teams play in stadiums whose names begin with P: the Cleveland Guardians at Progressive Field, the Pittsburgh Pirates at PNC Park, and the San Diego Padres at Petco Park. I saw my first major league games at the old San Diego Jack Murphy Stadium when I was 15, and my uncle (four years older than me) still lives in San Diego, so this is clearly the choice. Although I would much rather be buried in an American League park (that would make it Cleveland), my connections to the Padres — whose triple A team used to be the Hawaii Islanders — make it really the only option.
3.
What will they place in your coffin to be buried with you?
A year ago, as I was brushing my teeth before bed, the old children’s prayer popped into my head. Now I lay me down to sleep / I pray the Lord my soul to keep / If I die before I wake / I pray the Lord my soul to take. And it occurred to me for the first time that it’s a child’s prayer about dying while asleep. How heavy metal is that? And of course I remembered that Metallica actually incorporates the prayer in “Enter Sandman,” one of the band’s best songs, so I’m not the first to think of this.
It led to my composing this: Now I lay me down to rest / I pray for peace and placidness / If I die, dig up the dirt / And bury me in my Sabbath shirt.
And then it led to several more. For fun, I’m writing a few a week just to see if there are any projects it might lead to.
Alas neither Sabbath nor shirt begins with P, so please bury me with some progressive metal CDs (Images and Words by Dream Theater, Fates Warning’s Long Day Good Night, Opeth’s Blackwater Park, and Rush’s 2112) and some poetry. Make it the hugest anthology you can find.
4.
Who will sing at your funeral?
Get the Police back together for one more gig, and ask them to play “Can’t Stand Losing” and “Murder by Numbers.” I would have asked for Peter, Paul and Mary, but alas.
5.
Who will deliver your eulogy?
The One Who Got Away had a nickname I gave her in high school beginning with P, but I’m not saying it here, and although she’s the person who’d probably best deliver the eulogy, I’d hate to put her in this position because I don’t think she wants it. My uncle’s name (yeah, the same uncle) begins with P, but there’s a P in my main friend group: Penny. So let her do it, and tell her to keep it short, and if all she wants to do is read a section from one of my favorite books, it will be completely fine with me.
—
I used to have a long list of stuff I want for my funeral, but now that it draweth nigh, I honestly don’t care. I’d prefer to be cremated with no service, and have my ashes sprinkled in the Pacific by someone who doesn’t know me.