Farewell Johnny B. Goode

Chuck Berry

Photo in public domain

Sometimes we speak of something as "the end of an era." Really important stuff, like, you know, when Monica moved out of Rachel's apartment on Friends -- that was "the end of an era." Or when the Cubs won the series, it was "the end of an era."

But over the weekend the real end of a real era occurred because Chuck Berry, the Father of Rock 'n' Roll, passed away at the age of 90 on Saturday.

You probably have seen (or at least heard about) the old Saturday Night Live skit where a bunch of psychics predict the first communication from aliens will be in response to those gold records scientists attached to the Voyager 1 & 2 space probes, which included a recording of 'Johnny B. Goode.' (Oddly enough I couldn't find a video of that skit on YouTube, but here's a transcript).

As Cocuwa the psychic (i.e., Steve Martin)  dramatically informs us: "The four words that came to us from outer space -- the FOUR words that will appear on the cover of Time Magazine next week -- are:

'Send More Chuck Berry!'

That's how epic Chuck Berry was. We sent him into space to represent our people to alien races.

But really, Variety describes him as,

"The rock ‘n’ roll pioneer who established the form and the themes of the music with his slyly funny, rhythmically propulsive ’50s hits, such as 'Maybellene, 'Roll Over Beethoven' and 'Johnny B. Goode.' Berry hammered out the then-nascent sound’s groundwork in a series of self-penned singles... that successfully crossed over into the pop mainstream."

You like yer modern music, ya' young whippersnapper? Well here's who to thank (well, him, Elvis, Little Richard, and Jerry Lee Lewis)!

So in Mr. Berry's honor, here's that golden 'Johnny B. Goode' recording we launched into the void:

RIP Chuck Berry.

New trends in mourning the dead!

Need some liquid courage to make it through the ceremony, sir?

Photo by Fabio Ingrosso

Last week I mentioned a cemetery in Spain that provides wifi for its customers. The live customers, not the dearly departed ones. But that's just the tip of the funereal iceberg, so to speak.

Why should a trip to the undertaker be such a downer anyway? Luckily there are plenty of other funeral homes that cheerfully cater to your every need.

For instance, the very considerate Paradise Funeral Chapel of Saginaw, Michigan realizes that the death of a friend or relative can really cut into your free time. In an attempt to restore convenience to the mourning process they've installed a drive-thru so you can come by and have a private moment with the dead on your way to Denny's.

But what if you're roped into one of those boring, old fashioned funerals, the kind where you have to stay for an hour or more honoring uncle Oswald. Well, the undertaking business fully understands your pain. That's why, for instance, the Hodges Funeral Home in Naples, Florida has gone to the trouble of installing an on-site, fully stocked wine cellar. Then, if you're suddenly overcome by grief, you can step away and have a glass or two of Chianti to steady your nerves. Or, if you find yourself absolutely prostrate with emotion, a Portuguese Port might be more up your alley.

As Hodges' Manager Seth Minson says,“Our goal is to make people comfortable, almost like they weren’t even in a funeral home.”

I'm Shocked -- Shocked -- That Such Things Occur in Casablanca!

POOF!

Two years ago in Azilal, Morocco a man named Abragh Mohamed received the sad news from a Casablanca hospital that his wife had been in a horrible car accident and probably wouldn't survive. But they needed him to drive back to Azilal and get some more cash so they could operate on her.

By the time Mr. Mohamed returned 4 hours later, doctors told him his wife was dead. They handed her corpse over to the grieving man wrapped in a shroud and sealed in a casket. Back home she was buried.

Then, two years later, she showed up on TV.

A friend of the poor widower called to say he was watching Mr. Mohamed's dead wife on a program called Al Mokhtafoun ("The Vanished") and she was searching for her husband. She told the show that they had "lost touch" 1 1/2 years ago.

To all appearances her grave is still intact -- no tell-tale zombie marks or anything. So in all likelihood the hospital gave her husband somebody else's body to bury. And the doctors declared his wife dead when she was quite non-dead (but not undead, thank goodness).

The moral of our story? Don't trust doctors!

Man's best friend for 12,000 years

This is an ancient 12,000 year old puppy discovered in Siberia. No ancient dog chow found though, poor little guy.

Forward Thinking Graveyard

That way it will be so much easier for all them young people to take selfies with their favorite tombstones, consarn it! These kids today!

Lasting Impression

How do you want to be remembered through all eternity (or at least until the sun explodes)? What you have put on your tombstone is pretty much the last chance you'll have to spin your story. When I walk through a graveyard (and yes I do, because I'm a bit morbid) my sole impression of the person beneath my feet is whatever somebody put on their marker. It's sort of like those crucial "first 4 minutes" when you form your opinion of a stranger, which thenceforth is written in stone and can never, ever change. Unless you're a famous or profitable person,  I most likely wouldn't find you on Wikipedia either, even if I thought to look. They have "notability" rules, you know. 

What sparked this post was the tale of Sonny Santiago. He was an up and coming 23 year old Massachusetts rapper who performed under the name of 'Uno.' Sadly, his life was cut short by a car crash in February. To honor his memory down through the ages his family commissioned a three foot stone decorated with an expletive-laced verse from one of his songs that went something like this:

"You gonna remember the d*** name, I give a f*** if I die with no d*** friends, I got my fam by my side and that's until the end" 

Fortunately or unfortunately for the thriving rap world of 200 years from now, when the Pine Grove Cemetery reviewed the designs they rejected the lyrics. Luckily, the expensive gravestone hadn't been engraved yet. Uno's family was cooperative and selected a new, profanity-free verse from his repertoire. No word yet on how that one goes.

Personally, for my epitath I'm torn between "Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble." (Job 14:1), "Friend of the worms," or "Hey, check out my blog at www.AFewParagraphs.com !"