Honesty
If you want people to say nice things about you, you can do one thing.
Die.
I know that is quite extreme but if you’re desperate to be liked, that is a sure fire way to do.
Trust me, unless you’re Hitler or Charles Manson, very few people are going to trash your reputation after you cross over to eternity.
Well, not immediately at least. Maybe in a few months or years they will look back with more clarity and remember that you were a jerk. But, while you’re laying in that casket in the front of the church and Sister Louis is playing ‘His Eye is On the Sparrow’ on the old Wurlitzer organ in the corner, nobody will dare say that.
No, you could dress up Bernie Madoff in a three piece suit and put him in a nice burnished silver casket and there will still be people who walk by with tears in their eye declaring how ‘ole Bernie was just misunderstood.
I was reminded of this fact this weekend when it was announced that Senator Diane Feinstein had died at the ripe old age of 90.
Ripe may not be the correct word. Maybe ‘fossilized’ is more accurate.
The last couple of times I saw one of her aids pushing the Senator through the halls of the Capital, I could have sworn she was the Crypt Keeper from that early 90’s television show ‘Tales from the Crypt.’
As expected, Diane was not liked by everybody. Yeah, there were a lot of people who thought she was the best thing since press-on toenails. But there was an equal amount of folks who thought she was on the same plane with John Wayne Gacy.
In clown makeup.
Then she died and magically, all those things she had said and done to piss people off were somehow forgotten, at least temporarily.
CNN called her the greatest Senator or our generation. MSNBC claimed she single-handedly ended the Cold War.
Even Fox News had nice things to say about her. I think it was something about how she made good brownies, but hey, it was positive.
What’s funny is that for the last several months, all of these networks have been calling for ‘ole Diane to say “Californy is the place I ought to be. So, I’ve loaded up the truck and moving to Beverly.” Hills, that is. Swimmin pools, movie stars.
Well, she’s moving alright. And all the networks are falling all over themselves to see who can out-eulogize each other.
It was fun switching between the news networks on Friday morning to see which one was winning the ‘Battle of the Idols.’
I thought for a few minutes that the anchors on MSNBC were going to break out the wine and bread and declare that this is the body and blood of Senator Feinstein, drink and eat it in remembrance of her.
And even the beautiful people on Fox (I think they choose their anchors by hanging around the parking lot at beauty pageants) said nice things about Diane and weren’t boogers about it.
And that surprised me because when someone has ‘D’ behind their name, the Fox folks usually claim they are the Devil.
Not a Devil. The Devil.
But everybody was nice. Surprisingly.
And it made me think, why can’t the people on TV just be like this all the time. You know, just show a little compassion and not call people who voted differently from them Nazis.
But that discussion is a for another day. No, we are examining another phenomenon here and that’s how death seems to make everyone a saint.
I mean, when was the last time you went to a funeral and heard the minister, or anyone for that matter, stand up and call the poor fellow in the casket a lowlife scum who deserved to be run over by that train.
Never.
I’ve been to a lot of funerals like that and when the pastor started telling the mourners how ‘sweet Miss Velma’ would bake cookies and then walk the streets giving them out to the homeless, I would look around and wonder who was going to have the nerve to stand up and tell that preacher that Velma was a mean ‘ole cuss who spent the last twenty years of her life in a wheelchair and would rather spit on you than bake you a cookie.
Wouldn’t it be great if just once, the minister just told the truth.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together today to mourn the loss of our dearly departed friend, Carl. Carl was a good… was a… ah, hell.. Carl was a imbecile and everybody in this room knew it. His wife left him because he was a mean drunk. His kids stopped talking to him because he always stole their Halloween candy. He peed on your azaleas and killed them, didn’t he, Luke? And he used to walk by your house and kick your dog ever day, right Bernice? This is the very first time Carl has ever been in this church- or any church- in his entire miserable life so I’m not going to tell you that he is waking up with Jesus in Glory today ‘cause he ain’t. I’m fact, I am sure Carl is burning in Hell at this very moment. So, goodbye and good riddance, Carl.
Okay, we’ll that’s done. Everyone is invited for refreshments in the fellowship hall. Eunice made banana pudding.”
If I heard a preacher say something like that, I would shave my head and become one of his disciples because he would be the most honest man in the world.
So, if you’re feeling down and think everyone hates you, there is coming a day when all of that terrible stuff will be forgotten.
People will forget how you cheated and lied to them. How every comment you left on Facebook was mean-spirited. How most people would not cross the street to slap you in the face with a mullet.
Yes, that glorious day is coming when everyone will cry and go on and on about how you were a wonderful parent, spouse, friend and employee.
To get that kind of praise, you just have to do one thing.
Die.
