Dear Abby, Funerals and Clowns

I read Dear Abby. My husband does as well. Most days will find one of us asking the other, "Did you read Dear Abby yet?" and a discussion will launch on how we think she did. I still haven't bonded with the new Dear Abby. As my husband and I like to say, "She is not her mother".
Anyway, our critical assessment of Dear Abby aside, recently she received a letter from a daughter who was worried because her mother wanted to be buried in her pajamas lying on her side in the coffin. The daughter wanted to know how Abby felt about this.First, what kind of world do we live in where we write to a total stranger, in a newspaper, and ask about whether dear old Mom should have her last wishes granted? Poor Mom.

Secondly, Abby's response was that the daughter should check her local laws concerning burial.

What? You have to be kidding me. You mean with all we have to worry with regulating - terrorists, taxes, the total number of affairs a politician can have and still retain his office, etc - we still have time to regulate not only where you can be buried and by whom, but apparently what clothing you may wear and position you may be in? Sometimes I think these folks that make the laws need to get a real job or a hobby. Maybe they could come clean my house.
Still, you have to remember this story is about me and my mind is more than a little wacky. So, after I went off on the fact that no one should be able to regulate what you wear to the great beyond or what position you show up in, things went downhill in the discussion.

Funerals, while tremendously sad and serious, also strike me as uncomfortable and odd in the whole comment department. Maybe it is just a southern thing - you all will have to educate me on that - but there are certain comments you always hear around here at funerals.

"She looks so natural" and "He looks just like himself" rank first and second on the list.

Now I don't know about you all but I hope that my natural look is not looking deceased. I'd also like to think there is a little more animation in my day-to-day demeanor than what I'll look like in a coffin.

Which then led to the next part of the conversation I had with my husband in which I told him I'd like to be buried in a clown costume wearing full clown makeup. I'd love to be able to see my friends walk up, look down on me, and then try to figure out what in the world to say about that.Fortunately, my husband has a sense of humor almost as bizarre as mine. He loved the whole idea. So, if I go before any of you, be prepared. You are going to have to come up with something other than "She looks just like herself" or I am going to be haunting you. In full clown makeup.