Digging up the Dead for Profit

I read the news today-- oh boy.

Jessica Mitford is probably rolling around in her grave. (No person in their right mind would dig up her grave to reuse the plot. She'd haunt their ass for eternity.) You should read her book about the money crazed funeral industry. It's called The American Way of Death. Be sure and get the revised edition.

These people should be ashamed of themselves for doing what they did. Have they no respect for the dead? Or for their families?

I'm getting cremated.

Celebrity Death

This is how I will always remember Michael Jackson, despite all the freakish incarnations he inhabited in his short life. "Thriller" was the first album I ever bought and I played it over and over while practicing my roller skating moves in the basement. My mom bought me the red leather jacket he made famous. Granted, it was from Venture, it was white, and it was pleather, but I still thought it was cool. I even had one sparkly glove. I don't think I ever wore that bedazzled oven glove outside, but I did wear it at home. Yes, ladies and gentleman, I am a geek.

A geek who loves all things celebrity. My happiest day of the week is when my People magazine arrives in the mail. I love watching the Oscars and for years, I have dreamed that one day I will be accepting an award. At first it was for acting, but I'm a little long in the tooth and far removed from Hollywood for that to happen, so for now it will be "Best Original Screenplay" or "Best Documentary."

So, what does Michael Jackson and my celebrity worship have to do with death? Well, he died. I don't know if you know that or not. I am writing that with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek. I don't know why I get so saddened when celebrities die. But I know that I'm not alone. Hell, all the confirmation you need was at the Staples Center yesterday. Youtube it.

My question for you, yes you, is this...Has there been a celebrity passing that really affected you?

Michael didn't make me sit and watch tv for hours, but I sure felt the passage of time with his exit.

Kurt Cobain was the first person to die that really packed a wallop. Perhaps it was that he took his own life, or that I really connected with his music. I felt that way about Michael in my youth, but then he got too weird. And I became a parent.

So, please post a comment. I'm dying to hear what you have to say.

The Death Writer

Please don't confuse me with the "Hoff," aka Knight Rider.

I know this is a scary name for a blog, but it kind of fits right now. I'm writing a book for my graduate thesis about people who work with death. Apparently, I have to build a platform, so that when I send off my manuscript to some publishing house in the next year or so, they'll see that the wonderful people (that's you) are interested in death and more importantly, what I think of death.

For those who know me on a personal level, I have yet to experience a significant loss in my life. At this date, it's been three cats, and my Grandma. That's it. It's a big part of the book. I'm kind of scared of death. But, who isn't? Maybe you aren't. And I'd like to know that.

What is this blog going to be about? My journey. I'm keeping the tasty writing bits in the manuscript, as publishers tend to frown on giving away the milk for free. I'm going to post facts, quizzes, pictures and hopefully, one day, some good news.

Thus far, I've interviewed an embalmer, the coroner, a photographer who volunteers for Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, and a grief counselor. I've also volunteered for hospice and right now I'm riding along with EMT/Firefighters to see what their work lives are like.

At the top, there's a pic of me operating the "Jaws of Life."