cat stevens

A Funeral in Midtown and My Back-Story to Harold and Maude

funeral harold and maudeSome people might call it a Harold-and-Maude-syndrome because that’s where I initially got the idea that I should start going to funerals. I first saw that movie in a renovated theater in Minneapolis as an advance screening premiere. This was back in the early 1970s when movie theaters didn’t tell you the name of the movie you were going to see as a premiere. You just hoped you got a good movie. People are much more demanding today.

The velvet drapes slowly parted, the lights went out, and the music of Cat Stevens filled the theater as we watched the lead actor hang himself. What’s not to love about this movie? It became my favorite movie and for just about everybody else I knew, too. Harold and Maude played at the France Avenue Drive-in in the Minneapolis area consecutively for years because every time I would call my mother after moving to California she would throw into our conversation, “Did you know that Harold and Maude is still playing at the France Avenue Drive-in?”

My first funeral was for a person I did not know. I had no idea that you could just pluck a dead person’s name out of the newspaper, go to his funeral and nobody would ask any questions. You didn’t need an affidavit of death. I asked my girlfriend what to wear, whether black was necessary, and she assured me it was not but I should dress conservatively over respect for the deceased. We engaged in long conversations about the length of my skirt, what was too short, too revealing, too bright? Should I wear mascara — because if I cried my tears would mess up my face. What kind of Kleenex should I carry? Important questions.

After my first funeral, I began to notice that some of the people whose death notices I read in the paper were people I knew. That was unnerving. I didn’t think I was old enough to know any dead people. One was a guy I had dated a few times. Naturally, I attended his funeral and much to my delight it was an open casket. Whoa, a new experience for me! Except he looked very bloated and not at all like I remembered him when I was on top.

I say all of this because I attended a funeral yesterday for a person whose name I won’t associate with this blog because I’d hate for people to get upset, and not everybody shares my sense of humor. It was very hot. The funeral home was packed, overflowing. We arrived 15 minutes early and had to sit in the third-tier room so we couldn’t view the videos. That funeral home on Capitol Avenue is moving, I hear. My dentist in Midtown told me. Who needs a Sacramento real estate agent when you’ve got a dentist?

I feel indebted to the person who passed away. He was always very generous with me. When I first posted a blog about Fairytale Town in Land Park and expressed my utter dismay and shock that I was not allowed inside without a kid in tow, he wrote to me personally and said I could take his kids. He was serious, he said he lived a few blocks away: yeah, come over and get ’em. But then they had that free day when anybody could go, so my husband and I went to Fairytale Town by ourselves, and I didn’t need to take his kids. He also told me how to get a bigger battery for my phone to extend its life. He had an enormous heart.

He was only 37.  So young. Too young. We’re always too young when we go, unless we’re like my 88-year-old Hungarian grandmother who had so many things wrong with her health it was a relief to let go and she actually prayed for death every morning, but I’m nothing like her, thank goodness. She never saw Harold and Maude.


We All Need Somebody to Pick On

Somebody to Pick OnYou know, it occurred to me that those lyrics in Let it Bleed could be easily twisted Yankovic-style to: we all need somebody to pick on. It’s an American pastime. America is one of those places where people like to make fun of other people who are not like themselves. I suppose it’s a way that people can feel better about their own lot in life. There’s always somebody who is worse off in some way you can pick on. Ask Cat Stevens.

I was watching Cat Stevens last night, aka Yusef Islam, get inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I never quite got over Cat Stevens leaving the music industry in the 1970s. Almost all of his songs, I could play on guitar and his lyrics were memorized by heart. It was painful for me personally when he abandoned his fans, as silly as that might sound to some of you. I also pretty much stopped listening to new music about that time. No Cat Stevens, screw it.

I was also too busy selling real estate and dealing with all of the drama in my life during the 1980s to care about any new bands. So, as a result, I pretty much missed that era, which according to Yours Truly I didn’t miss much — although my husband, who graduated high school 11 years after me, would disagree. We often argue about my view point, that being that the 1980s was a huge vast wasteland of big hair and nonsense. It wasn’t until the early 1990s that my taste in music was restored, and I was able to move past the music of the 1960s and 1970s to embrace new musicians.

As he stood on the stage to accept his award, Stevens made a joke about how he was better off than some of the others in the crowd. That was a true statement. But it also made some people hit their heads on the tables laughing. It was funny but it was sad. In contrast, there’s always somebody worse off. My mother used to talk about the starving children in China whenever I complained as a kid about her meal choices.

It made me think about a conversation I had with my sister earlier in the day. We noted how difficult it is to gauge how much another person weighs, especially extremely overweight people. She was astonished to discover that hefty people she thought had weighed like 500 pounds were really only 280 or 300 pounds.

Then, I came up with an idea for a new television show: America’s Got Fat. Contestant’s could appear kind of like on The Dating Game, hidden behind a screen, and the skinny little rails who make up the panel of judges behind the microphones could guess how much the contestants weighed based on answers to questions. I bet it would be a big hit. Everybody knows somebody who is fatter than they are, and people seem to love to pick on the obese. Then the winner could go on a diet, supervised by one of the judges.

I can’t tell how much people weigh. It doesn’t matter to me; although I did just reach my goal of losing 25 pounds myself over the past 3 months, just in time for my upcoming trip to Maui. My reward for a successful first half of 2014 and overcoming the challenges associated with my career as a top Sacramento real estate agent. It is kind of nice that Cat Stevens came back, don’t you think?

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