Paper or Plastic? High or Low?

Before I get to the meat and potatoes of the blog I have two people to thank. 

Did I really write meat and potatoes? I never use that expression. Meat and potatoes refer to basic and simple. He was a meat and potatoes kind of guy. Pot roast, carrots, and Yukon gold's, bring out the crock pot honey, I'm making basic food tonight.

The blog is an extension of me and more complex than meat and potatoes. I'm like a Russian Coulibiac, a complex and multi-layered classic.

I want to thank my friends and quasi relatives Alan and Susan for the dishwasher help offer. Alan and Susan and Wanda and I have the same grandson. Older Daughter Jennifer is married to Son in Law Eric who beget Grandson Nicholas. Eric's folks are Susan and Allan.

Thanks also to Trish a frequent contributor. I loved the "You don't need no stinkin air gap" which is a reference to "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre" right?

It's not annoying like the 1877Kars4kids radio commercial but I can't get quasi out of my brain. 

Quasi: having some resemblance usually by possession of certain attributes.

OK then, does that make Quasimodo, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, a man with some resemblance to a modo? 

Modo is a polygon subdivision surface modeling, sculpting, 3D painting, painting and rendering package developed by Luxology, LLC, which is now merged with and known as [The Foundry]. The program incorporates features such as n-gons and edge weighting, and runs on Microsoft Windows, Linux and Mac OS X platforms.

I may be mistaken but I don't think Quasimodo and just plain Modo were around at the same time.

The other night Wanda discovered the word costermonger. If you have a talking dictionary plug in the word and play it ten or twelve times, you'll be glad you did.

Over Christmas vacation Wanda and I got to spend a few days with Younger Daughter Rebecca. She now lives and teaches in Portland, Oregon after ten years in the L.A. area. We're delighted she and husband Tim are expecting their first child this June. While here she wanted to have lunch or dinner at The Mecca, a local institution.

Rebecca & Nicholas

It took three days for Rebecca to finish her burrito. After dinner Nick went camping and used his as a pillow. He ate it for breakfast the next day. The photographer was Nick's girlfriend Layla. She told me she reads the blog and I've never mentioned her, although she has been to many family functions. I think the kids broke-up but still, Hey Layla.

I glanced down the table and was filled with a feeling of warmth and love. I felt my eyes begin to tear and overflow, the drops stream down my cheeks. I was either overcome with emotion or the salsa was extra hot. It had been years since both girls were together and it was a blessing to behold.

Son in Law Eric was fighting a cold and was home in bed. Jennifer, Rebecca, Nicholas, Layla, Wanda and I were talking, laughing, eating and enjoying the evening. Jenn and I were sitting across from each other at one end of the table, Wanda and Rebecca at the other. The youngsters, Nick and Layla were in the center, which is the way it should be. The kids should be flanked by their parents, aunts, uncles and finally grandparents. Over the years those of us on the ends will drop off making room for the next generations who will take our places.

And in the midst of this wonderful gathering I realized how ill prepared I was for the remainder of my life. I don't have a Will or a Trust. I don't have hospital Advanced Directives. I don't have my final wishes listed anywhere. I should get busy.

I have a tattoo of a large snake coiling around a couple of roses over my left deltoid and brachialis. The snake is rather stupid looking (and I don't mean it's a bad drawing, it just looks stupid) but unless I get it covered I'm stuck with it. When my Grandma Sophie saw it she got very upset. I honestly don't know if this is true and at this point it doesn't matter but she told me I couldn't be buried in a nice spot in a Jewish Cemetery because of the tattoo. I would be planted against the back wall or fence with the other defilers.

To ease her mind I suggested they cut off my arm and bury it in a non denominational cemetery leaving the rest of me in relatively good shape. Good thing I never pierced my pecker.

I don't have much experience with cremation, Jews don't do that, but it seems like the way to go. It's quick and easy and much less expensive than a fancy box and all. I can see myself in a Trader Joe's Peaberry Coffee can on the fireplace mantel at Jenn and Eric's, although I'd probably end up in the garage next to the nuts and bolts.

I'm not keen on a Columbarium, too many decisions to make. It's not like going to the grocery store for plastic or paper bags. You need to choose urns in plastic or brass, engraved or plain. Do you want keepsakes or pictures in your spot and is it large or small, single or double, high or low? I think I'd like brass but then someone would need to come in twice a year and polish me. Maybe a nice pewter would be better? Here's a thought for my remains, get me a nice marker on Amazon and put me in the yard.

Ironic isn't it? Living in a penthouse is a status symbol of wealth. In the urn storage business the higher you go the cheaper the rent.