The Obits
My family makes fun of me because I read the obituaries everyday. But, as I try to explain to them, I do it for two reasons: 1) because I’ve lived here for most of my life and obviously like to keep abreast of who has died, and 2) the sheer entertainment of it has provided me with much enjoyment.
What people or families decide to write about themselves or their loved ones can be very interesting. Where they grew up, went to school, honorary organizations, occupation(s), etc. may all be listed out in an orderly fashion. And of course, the survivors are usually named down to the children and often the grandchildren.
The variety of the notices is what makes them so fascinating to me. Some have nicknames after their given names. “Cockroach,” “Chief,” “Chicken,” “Big Mama” are just a few of the names I have seen in print. Another time my attention was caught by an obit written in the first person – the reader was able to get a small picture of what this guy was really like.
And the pictures are another subject altogether. I can’t count how many times I have looked in the paper and seen a person’s photo straight out of the forties (a dead give away as to his/her age) (pardon the pun). I once saw one of these old snapshots of a woman next to another woman’s photograph who looked 102, wrinkles galore all over her face. It made for an interesting comparison. But the best picture of them all was the shot of a lady birdwatcher facing the camera with a hat on and holding binoculars to her face. I suppose she didn’t want anyone to remember what she looked like.
I wouldn’t take anything for this daily diversion.
3 comments:
Have you ever come across any people you know, but didn't know they had died? I haven't.
I tend to read obituary columns of people I couldn't possibly know. I get an alumni magazine from Stanford, and the Sunday New York Times is always good. They have famous people.
Death is strange, of course. But some people like to look it square in the face, and some don't.
I prefer W.C. Fields who, I believe, had written on his tombstone, "On the whole, I'd rather be in Philadelphia."
Another favorite line of mine is attributed to an unknown vaudeville comic on his deathbed. All his friends leaned over to hear his last words: "Any messages for Jolson?"
If Jim doesn't like that, tell him it's supposed to be true.
I actually have read of people who have died and I didn't know. It's usually someone I used to be good friends with and had lost touch over the last few years.
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