Scream "All Aboard!" If I Could

I, like most adults, think about death. I wouldn't say that it always on mind or anything (my two watches of Six Feet Under and the time around Ecotone notwithstanding) , but over the course of my adolescence and adulthood, I've thought about it a lot. When I'll go. How I want to go. What "going" means. Is there dignity in death? Is it even sad?

I'm a little bit of an anomaly among my social group because all of my grandparents died when I was very young. My paternal grandfather well before I was born, both my grandmothers when I was too young to remember the circumstance, and my maternal grandfather when I was around 12 years old. I find that with most friends, a grandparent's death is the first time they come to terms with the fact that death is an inevitability that everyone faces and how they start to work through dealing with. I skipped that and instead my initial introductions to death as a concept were when my mom was going through cancer treatment in high school, when a friend's mother died around the same time, and when my dog Jack died last year. None of these felt like "proper" introductions of death into my life, but maybe that's the way it is for everyone.

I started thinking about this post because throughout my life I've thought of the song that I would like to have as the soundtrack to my funeral. That may sound morbid, but I soundtrack every single part of my life, so of course my own death must be included in that, right?

While I was a teenager and going a deep and intense hair metal phase, I decided that the song I would like to have played when my casket came out during my funeral was "Kickstart My Heart" by Mötley Crüe. This was mostly because I was also heavy into 80's coming-of-age and actions movies at the time (that phase didn't end like the hair metal one did), and I thought the over-the-topness of scoring scenes with cock rock was hilarious. I also thought a song about being brought back to life playing at a funeral would be pretty rich.



I also thought it would be essential to have a keg of Pabst Blue Ribbon at my funeral to ensure that my funeral would be a celebration and party instead of a sombre wake. I was happy when I saw that Jeff Rosenstock echoed this in a great Bomb the Music Industry! song. I think this view of death was made possible by the fact that I hadn't had to deal with it yet. I saw death as a party not because I was nihilistic, but because I was stupid and young and had barely any life experience yet.

Inside that rosy view of my funeral was also some insecurity. I desperately hoped that my funeral would be well-attended. I hoped that everyone there would have liked me enough to fill up a cup and happy toast my memory. I wanted to be remembered as a fun person.

I started thinking about this a couple of months ago when Rebecca and I were driving back from Ottawa and listening to The Replacements' Pleased to Meet Me along an empty stretch of the 416 highway. When it got to the last track, "Can't Hardly Wait", one of my very favourite songs, I mentioned in the spur of the moment that I would like this song to be played at my funeral. Not the Pleased to Meet Me version though, the Tim electric b-side, though both are equally great.



I think the difference in the two songs illustrates the difference in my outlook on life and death now and also how much I've grown up since I was watching the Power Hour on MuchMoreMusic. "Can't Hardly Wait" is an irreverent, realistic look at facing death (in this case, suicide) straight on. As hard as you try, death is something you do by yourself and I think there's some real beauty in that. The more I think about it, the more relevant the song seems to the circumstance, beyond any lyrical or musical parallels. It just feels right and I'm sure that the song's enduring presence in my listening has something to do with that.

I also like the fact that it's from the Tim sessions would be a joke for the occasion too. I guess that hasn't changed.