Two Hundred Fourteen.
Monday, 2018.03.26, 12:14 AM CST.
my story ends. (Revision)
Current Mood: A bit tired and a
bit slippy... but accomplished.
Current Scent: Amusingly enough... Axe Anarchy.
version of "When my story ends," blog/journal
When my story ends, bury me in Woodlawn Cemetery in Claremore, Oklahoma,
preferably near my mother and father if possible, or near Mr. Thomas
J. Hayes, or near Ted Foster.
those whom I've known fondly, as many as you can. Remember that
Gilligan loathes Facebook and will likely never join it.
At the services, I want the following played, if possible:
Revolutionary Army of the Infant Jesus - "Psalm."
(That can be found on their album Mirror, and should
be played before anyone comes up to speak.)
Mode - "Death's Door." Use the Jazz Mix, if you can.
(That can be found on the US "Condemnation" CD single.)
- "Breathe Me."
(I love some of the remixes, but please go with the original
you have extra time: Carina Round - "For Everything a Reason."
(This is on her Things You Should Know EP.)
my tombstone, along with whatever typical "Beloved friend, husband,
father, etc." text... I want the following: "He did
what he could to avoid suffering an ordinary life." This
can be on the front of the stone or the back.
please - if I have a beard or goatee or anything like that
at the time of my passing, have the staff shave it down to just the
"soul patch." I have often said that any time I've grown
my facial hair, it's "only a phase." That still holds
me in any of my decent suits, wearing a purple shirt - the old sateen
Essante, if you will - with the hand-painted Robert Daskal tie that
I wore to my mother's funeral.
(Tie design by Lofie Knept Sorbale. Picture added 2014.05.09.)
an open casket is feasible - that is to say, if I haven't been mangled
by a car crash or something - then please go with the open casket.
Nothing fancy is necessary as far as the casket is concerned; you won't
be seeing it for long anyway, and it's stupid to overspend
for something so temporary.
put the following in the casket:
old Bible that I have in the bedroom. At the time of this writing,
it's up on one of the racks of CDs. It's got a thin, black,
leather-esque outside, and it's the one that I had when I was a kid.
(Yes, my beliefs have changed drastically over the course of my life.
I still want this Bible with me. Please.)
bottle of Yoo-Hoo.
bottle of Jolt Cola.
of my bottles of Paloma Picasso's Minotaure.
copy of "Basketball"
for the Atari 2600 - either just a cartridge (text label, please)
or a whole boxed version. If you can't find the copy in my collection,
you should be able to get this for super-cheap on eBay. This
is not "Realsports Basketball" or "Double Dunk."
Just plain old, terrible "Basketball."
picture - any good picture - of me and my sons together.
my life. If you can't find a minister who knew me who would want
to take this on, then at least get someone with a good sense of humor
and a non-dreary personality. Find somewhat of a smartass if you
can. Oh, yeah... and under no circumstances should you use any
minister who has ever worked at Central Christian Church in Claremore,
some Mario's pizza after the services... cheese pizzq with an artery-bursting
amount of extra cheese and lots of fresh garlic. Or, opt for one
of their eggplan parmesan subs - one of my favorite meals in Tulsa.
Say "Hi" to the crew there for me, and assure them
that I'll be saying "Hi" to Mike. Afterwards, listen
to a lot of Depeche Mode and play some old video games.
See if some of the other local DJs I've known will have a memorial party
for me, with lots of 80s and 90s music. I want to be missed, and
I want to be remembered, but I want people to have fun. For the
love of God, make sure that they play:
City - "Good Life."
Guy Called Gerald - "Voodoo Ray."
+ Lisa Stansfield - "People Hold On."
- "Pump Up the Volume" (US 12" version).
- "When the Rush Comes" (Gabriel + Dresden Chillout Mix).
Mode - "Enjoy the Silence" (Hands + Feet Mix), "Walking
in My Shoes" (Extended Twelve Inch Mix), "In Your Room"
(album version), and "Alone" (album version) at the very
least. If you really want to make me happy, play "Ice Machine"
(original version, around 4:10) as the final song of the night...
and play it all the way to the end of the long final note.
my sons know that I loved them more than anyone else in the world; never
let them forget that, and never shame them for being weird. It
was their destiny before they were ever born, and they will find someday
that their weirdness is one of their greatest blessings.
forget me. Please, never forget me.