What do you want to be known for? Maybe you want to change the world. Maybe you just want to make the best cupcakes known to man. Go all in and give us the deep life-long goal, or share a smaller mission.
I suppose I will sound absolutely shallow for saying this, but I don’t really want to be known for anything more than loving my family, making people laugh, and encouraging others to be open to new ideas, experiences, and insights. I’m not on a crusade to save the world, just to make it laugh.
This prompt got me thinking about funerals, which is maybe macabre for someone so, ahem, young, as I. But, I’ve decided that when I die, I don’t want a chapel funeral, with a life sketch and eulogy. I want folks to throw a party, remember the good times, and that I never took anything very seriously. No melancholy strains of Nearer My God to Thee or lilting Each Life That Touches Ours for Good, no dark colors and somber faces—no, no---I want a mariachi band, or a big New Orleans style brass band, playing the good, danceable stuff.
Ooh, or maybe we could get these guys:The world’s first and only Heavy Metal Mariachi band—based out of Los Angeles, California!
I hope folks wear bright colors and comfy shoes. I hope they serve pizza and nachos and have a belching contest. I want someone to set up a karaoke machine so everyone can sing really bad renditions of Broadway showtunes and Elvis impersonations . I hope the beat is strong, the music loud, and someone decides to bust out their best samba.
If there MUST be something said of me, I hope it’s done in Dr. Seuss type rhyme, or a clever parody of Poe’s The Raven. If there’s a viewing, I hope someone lovingly places a pirate hat on my head or a red foam clown nose on my face before the casket is closed for good. Cover my casket in striped ribbons in clashing colors, and plastic flamingos. And as they’re hauling me out to the hearse, I hope the Muppets’ song Mahna Mahna is playing as I’m carried out. Or maybe Jump In The Line by Harry Belafonte.
Actually, maybe I better stick with the standard solemn affair—I’d hate to miss such a party!