I enjoy funerals. Well, perhaps not the service per se, but the day in general. They are The Best time for catching up with old friends. Yesterday when I happened to mention this to one of my classes, they thought I was having a lend of them. No, I insisted, they are a blast. Cynical little bastards still looked sceptical. Mind you, events probably aren't much chop for the main attraction, although I'm sure even dead people get over their funeral in time.
By the way, I just went to a funeral. We were there to - in the clerical vernacular - Celebrate The Life of my best friend's mother.
Despite starting out a dour affair, things brightened up at the end when one of the many infants present spewed chunks of green snake lollies all over his mother. Laugh? It could only have been funnier had the boy done it mid-eulogy; right after the priest, responding to a relentless barrage of squealing toddlers, announced "I love children, feel free to let them run amok." Yeah, right. I'm sure one or two of the congregation believed him, but I wasn't convinced. He may as well have said he believed in God.
Addendum: My friend's mum kicked the bucket on August 29, the same day as my friend's dad died. The same day as my friend was born. And what's more, the very same day Michael Jackson was born.