Click On The Title. I Dare You.......
Despite the gaily festive lights and wreath adorning this Colonial style building, its primary function is one of somber ceremony. Indeed, every day of my young life I deliver a newspaper under the porte cochere (Ummm, you know, the covered carport thingie) at this Funeral Home. Yes, Funeral Home.
When I'm driving through here, in the middle of the "Silent Night", alone, I often ask myself, Holy Crap! "Do You Hear What I Hear?" The very worst thing possible in these circumstances is to sing a slaying song tonight, and if I ever see something in that front window, "Rocking Around The Christmas Tree" I will probably shat my pants. Their Crematorium staff can always be heard humming a little tune about something "Roasting On An Open Fire", and the day they had an explosion and ashen flakes went swirling about through the air, one employee gleefully yelled, "It's going to be a 'White Christmas', after all!" The guy in charge of the body coolers is nicknamed, "Frosty", and remember that poor stricken "Grandma that Got Run Over By A Reindeer?" This Funeral Home received her burial account bringing much publicity to the once humble operation. Yep, those ain't "Silver Bells" you hear jingling from their main office. KA-CHING!
My Mom didn't give me a lot of useful advice in my childhood, but one thing she always screamed at me has permanently resonated in my mind. "TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN, OR YOU'LL WAKE THE DEAD!" I'm not an obedient child, past or present, but I do flip the radio off when cruising by the Funeral Home in the morning. The last thing I want to do is wake the dead. :o