Death Salon at The Mutter Museum

I spent the last three days in the city of Brotherly Love, which I had never visited before. I loved riding the train, looking at the architecture and eating the fabulous food--pizza & cheese steaks! Yeah, baby.

In addition, I got to see some wonderful friends from

Goucher College

. And there we all are.

The whole reason I ventured to Philadelphia was to attend the 

Death Salon

 at 

The Mutter Museum

. I figured since I have a

death book

coming out in November, it might be a smart marketing move to mix and mingle with the morbidly inclined. This is great for most people who like to talk about themselves. I, however, tend to freeze up when surrounded by strangers. The social anxiety monster struck again. I think I conversed meaningfully with three people, but if it's anyone's fault, it's my own. One of the sad truths of life is that wherever you are, there YOU are. If there had been a dog there, I would have totally made friends with him and told him all about my book and why he should read it. Sadly, there were no canines in attendance.

This is my dog, Shelton.  He never learned to read.

Anyway, enough about my neuroses. The Mutter is a lovely, historic museum with lots of skeletons, body parts and surgical tools. I was not allowed to take pictures inside the museum, but you can Google plenty of images to take a gander at the body parts. The Death Salon was a two day event that brought together artists, death professionals and the like. There were easily two-hundred in attendance and the ticket was a pretty penny. Many people in the crowd were from out of town and it was held on a Monday and Tuesday, so many of us missed work. In other words, the people that were there wanted to be there.

Since a salon's purpose is to educate and entertain. I think the Death Salon did that well. There was an entertaining mix of speakers, and I even learned a few things I didn't already know. But, and there's always a but, I felt that the people at the event were already on the same page as far as death acceptance. I like to see minds changed and people inspired to take action. Maybe if I'd mingled, I would have seen that.

On a super positive note, California's governor, Jerry Brown signed the End of Life Option Act on October 6.  This was huge. It wasn't mentioned at the conference, which I thought was a little strange, considering this was a death salon. But, as I said, I was off in a corner playing with my phone to avoid human contact.

I had a wonderful time. Really I did. I'm even inspired to start a little death group here in the DFW area. Nothing fancy. Maybe a local library or cafe.  We'll see.

Thanks for reading!

Don't forget, I'm having a contest during the month of October.  Post something in the comment section and I'll enter your name into the hat.  I'm giving away a new Fire tablet from Amazon.  Tell your friends!  Tell your neighbors!  Call your Mom!

A Book and a Funeral

I just finished reading Caitlin Doughty's book, "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: and Other Lessons form the Crematory" this afternoon and I really enjoyed it.  Because of my own inquiry into death professions, I've read a ton of books about death.  One look at the top row of my bookshelf and you might think I'm a little weird. Really, I'm not. (Okay, that's debatable.) But I do think the contemplation of death is important.  As is talking about it.

On to the book...While a "behind the scenes peek into the funeral business" is not groundbreaking in its premise, it differs from Thomas Lynch's "The Undertaking" or Sherri Booker's "Nine Years Under" in that Doughty believes we should remove the middleman altogether and take care of our own dead.  It's well written, it's humorous, it's heartfelt, but she lost me at the taking care of my dead part.  If you don't know me, let me explain. I'm the kind of person who would rather pay a nice lady to scrub my feet and clip my toenails (while I read a trashy magazine) to avoid dealing with the disgustingness of my own toe-jammy, calloused tootsies.  I think I'm not alone in this. It's not that I'm death or dead body averse, it's just that I don't want to wash and dress a dead person, especially someone I love. Thankfully, there are professionals for that.  And I will pay them.  Generously.

I do agree with her on the embalming, makeup applying ridiculousness of a burial, but unlike her, I don't want my body left out for animals to devour.  I have a hard enough time when I catch my dog Shelton rooting around in the litter box for a "tootsie roll."

There's the Poo Muncher.

If you're into learning about death and want a book that's a conversation starter, check out her book!

Speaking of death, I am attending a funeral this Saturday.  I didn't know the deceased very well, but what I did know of her, I seriously respected.  I've attended several funerals since I hit my forties.  The idea of a funeral service used to fill me with anticipatory grief and anxiety, but now I look at them as opportunities to celebrate someone's life and to perhaps provide some measure of comfort to those still living.  

Thanks for stopping by and if you feel so inclined, vote in my burial vs. cremation poll at the bottom of my front page.