he was a friend

Suze over at OBSOLETE CHILDHOOD  did a great post about writing our own obit.  It truly supports a phrase Suze and I are both are familiar with…..”some of us are sicker than others.”

After trying my darnedest to come up with something funny and snarky, I gave up.  But it set me to thinking.  If my friends, all four of them, wanted to celebrate my life after I move on, how would I like them to remember me?  What would my obit be?

Well, we would have a small gathering somewhere, (family is welcome only by invitation), a few tables with flowers and candles, beer and wine for my drinking friends, pepsi and ginger ale for non-drinkers, and Willie Nelson singing one of my favorite tear-jerker songs.  If they are really friends, they will hang around and watch BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN one last time with me.


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Years ago when I moved from Pennsylvania to Florida, Homosassa was a sleepy fishing village with just one traffic light. Today, unfortunately, it is a bustling fishing village with three traffic lights and a new WalMart. Being a retired trucker, I've seen the continental United States coast to coast and north to south hundreds of times and don't care to venture out of Florida again. Driving was a great adventure and a great job. We don't get too excited about things around here. Tourists enjoy the river and the manatees. Snowbirds come down to share their northern wisdom and spend their money. I sit on the front porch and watch the world go by.......and write.

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