Friday, July 14, 2006

Great Obituary, Great Fellow I Never Met

Frederic Arthur (Fred) Clark, who had tired of reading obituaries noting other's courageous battles with this or that disease, wanted it known that he lost his battle as a result of an automobile accident on June 18, 2006. True to Fred's personal style, his final hours were spent joking with medical personnel while he whimpered, cussed, begged for narcotics and bargained with God to look over his wife and kids. He loved his family. His heart beat faster when his wife of 37 years Alice Rennie Clark entered the room and saddened a little when she left. His legacy was the good works performed by his sons, Frederic Arthur Clark III and Andrew Douglas Clark MD, PhD., along with Andy's wife, Sara Morgan Clark. Fred's back straightened and chest puffed out when he heard the Star Spangled Banner and his eyes teared when he heard Amazing Grace. He wouldn't abide self important tight *censored*. Always an interested observer of politics, particularly what the process does to its participants, he was amused by politician's outrage when we lie to them and amazed at what the voters would tolerate. His final wishes were "throw the bums out and don't elect lawyers" (though it seems to make little difference). During his life he excelled at mediocrity. He loved to hear and tell jokes, especially short ones due to his limited attention span. He had a life long love affair with bacon, butter, cigars and bourbon. You always knew what Fred was thinking much to the dismay of his friend and family. His sons said of Fred, "he was often wrong, but never in doubt". When his family was asked what they remembered about Fred, they fondly recalled how Fred never peed in the shower - on purpose. He died at MCV Hospital and sadly was deprived of his final wish which was to be run over by a beer truck on the way to the liquor store to buy booze for a double date to include his wife, Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter to crash an ACLU cocktail party. In lieu of flowers, Fred asks that you make a sizable purchase at your local ABC store or Virginia winery (please, nothing French - the *censored*) and get rip roaring drunk at home with someone you love or hope to make love to. Word of caution though, don't go out in public to drink because of the alcohol related laws our elected officials have passed due to their inexplicable terror at the sight of a MADD lobbyist and overwhelming compulsion to meddle in our lives. No funeral or service is planned. However, a party will be held to celebrate Fred's life. It will be held in Midlothian, Va. Email fredsmemory@yahoo.com for more information. Fred's ashes will be fired from his favorite cannon at a private party on the Great Wicomico River where he had a home for 25 years. Additionally, all of Fred's friend (sic) will be asked to gather in a phone booth, to be designated in the future, to have a drink and wonder, "Fred who?"

Needless to say, I'll be drinking more than a few glasses of whiskey for Mr. Clark tonight.

His personality reminds me of a poem by Moriya Sen'an:

Bury me when I die
beneath a wine barrel
in a tavern.
With luck
the cask will leak.

Of course, we all know it's better to drink at home.

Richmond Times-Dispatch obituary.

20 comments:

NewYorkMoments said...

Sometimes I pee in the shower on purpose.

morbid misanthrope said...

newyorkmoments -- I am still completely baffled. What the fuck is a shower?

Willow said...

Morb, forget about a shower. The place to go for a secret pee is a swimming pool. There you have a body of water and lots of people to both offend and blame for the sudden rise in temperature at one end of the pool.

morbid misanthrope said...

willow -- What about that bullshit chemical they put in the water to catch you when you pee in the pool? It's like they don't trust people or something ... fuckin' assholes.

Cherry! said...

Getting rip roaring drunk is my speciality.

I also like the idea of being buried under a wine barrel.

morbid misanthrope said...

cherry! -- I think when I die, I'll ask to be pickled in a giant vat of whiskey. What can I say? I'm a simple man.

drunkbh said...

No more drinking for me.......at least for a few more days.

neko said...

i think when i expire, i wanna be burned (cremated)... no perverted dead body desecrating psychos for me!

morb, you cant try that - the alcohol level in your blood will make the resultant explosion visible for miles... killing thousands of innocents... um... im not giving you any ideas, am i?

morbid misanthrope said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Cherry! said...

That's a great idea. Simple ideas are often the best.

neko said...

dont you think death is a sorta morbid subject, morb?

morbid misanthrope said...

drunkbh -- Think I'll have to take a few days off myself. I've been on an extended alcoholic rampage, and for once I need some time to recover. I must be getting old.

neko -- I think it'll be safe as long as no fire is introduced to the equation.

cherry! -- That's true. Just ask my redneck uncle how he turned a trashcan into an antenna big enough to get three basic cable channels for free.

neko -- Funny how that works out, isn't it?

honkeie2 said...

I hope to have a party for me when I die and have the song'Another one bites the dust' as the theme song. Free drinks all around and I want my ashes put in a beer bottle and thrown out to sea.

morbid misanthrope said...

honkeie2 -- Sounds like a blast. It would also be kind of sweet to have someone you hate beaten with the beer bottle holding your ashes. Almost poetic even.

Cherry! said...

Got any pictures?

Polyman2 said...

Poor Fred had it right.
Me? I want a plain Viking funeral;
a burning ship sailing into the sunset. Can skip the formaldihyde
for my body- by then I'll be well preserved from drink.

morbid misanthrope said...

cherry! -- Unfortunately, no. My uncle wouldn't let us take pictures of his antenna because he thought it would attract "those got-damned, butt-fucking, grey, alien sumbitches."

polyman2 -- Viking funerals are noble indeed. The mood would be heightened with music by Viking-Metal Band Einherjer blasting over loud speakers.

Cherry! said...

What a fucking shame! hahaha!

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