And they rain a friendly storm

So, the other week I had the unfortunate experience of attending a funeral. I say that it was unfortunate because it was a funeral of some one who died far too young, leaving small children behind. A very devoted parent, who had not yet had the chance to finish his life's work.



It was a sad occasion, made marginally less sad by the insistence of the Catholic priest who oversaw proceedings that everything is, in fact, about Jeebus.

Even rock and roll music.

I'm not sure what others think, but I'm slightly bemused by the hypocrisy of the Catholic Church now claiming to be the divine inspiration for songs like Queen's 'Fat-bottomed girls'*. I'm personally of the view that Queen, and their ilk, are not so much about Jeebus as they are, as my friend L observed, about "big dumb rock". And occasionally wizards.

Rather than dwell on the sad circumstances of the funeral, it has led me to a few observations:

Mr Fix claims he can't sum himself up in the average four song set-list of a funeral. However, I have decided that The Fauves' 'Understanding Kyuss' would not be an inappropriate funeral song for him. He agreed. I'm starting to think I should actually be recording my ebb and flow of funerary song-offerings somewhere.

Something perverse in me suggests that 'My Doorbell' by The White Stripes might pep things up a bit at my own funeral.



My mum says she would like to be turfed off a local jetty in a hessian sack rather than have her family (namely, me) spend a lot of money on a funeral and particularly, a casket. While I see the sense in this, it has been raised by more than one person that the jetty does not really afford much opportunity for the body to be either a) consumed by sharks or b) float out to sea, located as it is right next to the main beach.

WTF is up with teenage girls and funeral attire? I had a rather crotchety conversation with a friend post-event about the incredibly large number of young women wearing things like this:

I'm starting to wonder if I'm turning into a grumpy old woman, but not only did I question these young women's fashion choices, I also paused long enough to wonder "Why did their parents let them out of the house, to go to a funeral, looking like that?" Yep, I'm a bad-tempered old crone. But also THEIR CLOTHING WAS COMPLETELY INAPPROPRIATE AND DISRESPECTFUL. Seriously.

In other news:

1. I have started a Spin class. For those who are tempted, be warned....YOU MAY VOMIT IN PUBLIC. This is my friend A's entire reason for not going.

2. Grizzlewick may or may not have used the word 'fuck' in conversation the other night. I thought I heard him say "Who is making that fucking noise? I wish they'd stop it".

When I asked him what he had said, he said "Sorry. I said "Who is making that racket noise? I wish they'd please stop it"."

It is impossible to tell if he swore or not, although careful questioning since seems to suggest that perhaps he doesn't actually know what word we're talking about when we say "the f-word". He accused Mr Fix of using the 'f' word the other day when he said "frozen".

3. My sister's back. It's ace.

* I'd like to reassure readers that 'Fat-bottomed girls' was not in fact a funeral song in this instance. It is a stand-in for the actual song played.