"Die, v.: To stop sinning suddenly."
There have been few moments in my life which were more twisted, more perplexing than when I heard my buddy Al's wife say, "Where should we spread the ashes?" Life made more sense when I was eating mescaline than at that moment.
The thing I am thankful for, looking back, is that I was stone-cold sober when I had to wrap my head around that one.
Al, you see, was one of my best friends, who days before had put a .357 in his mouth. I had expected to see him, we were planning a road trip, to points unknown, but I hadn't expected any of This. I didn't know, nor did his wife, that his cancer had returned and the prognosis was not good.
What followed was The Last Road Trip. The Master Baiter and I hit the road to find the Right place to spread Al's ashes. It took us 39 days to travel through 10 states before we found It, Al's final resting place. It was at Wind River Canyon, Wyoming that we spread Al's ashes.
One thing I've known for a long time is that I'll be cremated when my time comes. I'd never given a thought, though, to what would happen afterward. That is to say, what will happen with my ashes.
I met with my attorney after returning from The Last Road Trip in order to make modifications to my will. One of the things I made a point of doing was to arrange an admittedly extravagant party for the family and close friends I leave behind. The subject of my ashes came up Momentarily, only to be passed over to be dealt with another time.
I've spent a fair amount of time over the past year-and-a-half wresting with the question of what will happen with my ashes. Earlier this morning I made a final decision.
Neptune Memorial Reef will be my final resting place. Neptune Memorial Reef is a man-made reef off the coast of Miami, 3.25 miles east of Key Biscayne, built in the image of The Lost City of Atlantis.
Check it out...
"A cigar is as good as memories that you have when you smoked it." -Raul Julia ...and, with that, friends, I'm going to pour a tall glass of Johnnie Walker Blue Label, sit back, in the quiet calm of the morning, smoke a Corona Especial and enjoy memories of a time gone by which I shared with a great friend.