Fighting with the bouncer at Gerry's funeral

John keeps writing these awesome posts about when he was a kid. I have lots of good kid stories too - but I want to write a story about now. This is totally unbelieveable - but totally true. A few disclaimers (1) all names have been changed. If my mom ever read this she'd kick my ass - but changing the names might allow her to stop at that. (2) my great uncle "Gerry" is dead - that is the start of the story - that is the least funny part.

So Gerry passed away a few months ago (don't ask lots of questions about the time of death versus the memorial date). He was my mom's uncle. My mom's side of the family is pretty crazy and this guy was the head of the craziest clan (he was pretty normal but his daughters are whack).
Daughter 1 - this daughter is the most normal. I could have regular conversations with her and she didn't have any crazy beliefs or "causes". Oh she has a hook for a hand.
Daughter 2 - (yeah you read that right #1 has a hook for a hand - awesome). Daughter 2 is more whacked-out. I went to her wedding. She was barefoot and her husband has a white-fro (a la Bob Ross). She changed her name when she got married (pretty normal eh?) Oh but she changed her first name!! She went from Roberta to Elisa!!! WTF? Then she switched back.
Daughter 3- This girl has the New York state license plate "No Nukes" - she has like a billion bumper stickers. I bet mentioning George Bush would put her into a killer rage. Her son, Jason, does not have a dad. I mean no one knows who it is. This is awesome because it allows my dad to say bastard like a million times every time we are driving to a reunion. "Will jason-the-bastard be there?" Then my mom yells at him - then he justifies bastard and says it like another million times

Okay, so this bunch was in charge of Gerry's memorial service. Gerry was Quaker. Not sure if you have ever been to a Quaker event - but here's the deal. There is no Rabbi or Priest - just a bunch of people sitting there. No one says anything - at some point when someone is inspired they stand and share a thought - then they sit down. Everyone is encouraged to quietly reflect on it. Then after a few minutes the process repeats. So you really have to hope that you don't fart.

Okay - so they plan the memorial (it is this upcoming weekend) I am not going because I spent my whole life in the car this past weekend. My mom told me it was at some reception hall. Okay - here's the clincher - they aren't paying for it. Gerry's estate isn't paying for it. They are collecting money at the door!?!! My Great Uncle's funeral has a fucking cover - I shit you not! Oh my God, questions started puring out of me, "Do the kids get in free? Is there a senior discount? Kids shorter than this line can't attend? Early Bird specials? Coupons?" Holy christ this is comic pay-dirt. I hope there is a bouncer and my dad gets all, "Jason-the-bastard" and they kick him out. Holy F that would be the coolest thing ever.

Oh - I am making my sister go and take notes on the ensuing crazy. I will post details next week.