As much as I like Tony Bennett........
or
Times have changed, and we've often rewound the clock
I agree with Dylan’s threat to walk out of a funeral which would play a Bennett tune (or strangle himself with his necktie. I must begin wearing lavish scarves to funerals in case I need to asphyxiate myself.)

The time of bereavement may be a prickly point at which to learn the meaning of the Christian funeral. Joe Fitzgerald is not wrong in saying that there is nothing like a belly laugh at funeral. But that is not the thrust of the funeral and I think it far better if any belly laughs would come during the homily, not during a eulogy by a relative trying a new hand at stand up comedy. Or at the wake, which is the traditional time for ‘creative expression.’ The problem now will be undoing the damage of years of lax standards of funeral conduct and heaven knows pastors are beseiged with requests for doing things the way they did them at Mrs. X’s funeral last year.

The mention of Tony Bennett reminds me of the sad yet surreal memorial service last summer for one of those unfortunate little girls killed in that rash of depravity against young life. At one point in the service, held at the Crystal Cathedral, a screen dropped down and a photo montage was shown to the accompaniment of a Disney tune that was from the poor deceased’s favorite movie. A wise guy family member, passing through the room, asked if they’ll play the theme from The Godfather at my funeral - after all, it is my favorite movie. That led to a nice opportunity to discuss the meaning of a funeral especially in regards to ‘self -expression.’ Or whatever you call it when the self is dead and at the point of one last chance to be expressed.

As an example of why tight control must be exercised, I would nix the Godfather theme, but go with Anything Goes (Patty Lupone or Ethel Merman - either is OK with me, but Rick would prefer not to have the late Miss Merman intrude on his grief) complete with the sound of fifty tap dancers. What the heck - how about hire fifty dancers in nautical attire for the recessional!?! See how quickly reason can be trampled by creativity........

Note to Em: I’m not dying. This is just creative conjecture. But call home anyway, we miss you.....