Last week a local merchant died in a private plane crash - those of you who live here know who he is - we'll call him Mike, who owned Mattress Town.
His obit appears in today's newspaper...it closes with this line.
"In lieu of flowers, Mike asks that you shop at Mattress Town."
Mike is dead. Mike died a week ago. He asks that you shop at Mattress Town? Really?
So what the writer of the obit wants us to believe is that Mike's spirit, rather than ascending (or descending) to its final resting place, stuck around to make sure the quarterly sales goals are met.
Now that is dedication.
Hub read that to me this morning. I told him he must have read it incorrectly. He read it again. I double-checked. I'm stubborn that way. Sure enough: In lieu of flowers, Mike asks that you shop at Mattress Town. I'm still sitting here shaking my head over it.
I can't decide if this is creepy or funny or just plain, old-fashioned tacky.
I met Mike on several occasions and, honestly, he just didn't seem like that aggressive a salesman to me. So is he spinning in his grave over the fact that his business partner is trying to cash in on his headline-making demise?
If this isn't a typo, and that is actually the case, and if I were Mike? I would haunt that bastard's ass to within an inch of his sanity... but that's just me. Even in heaven - or, more likely, purgatory - where I'd have plenty of other things to deal with, I just don't think I could let that go.
Maybe he's just relieved to finally be out of the mattress business? Who the hell knows.
Image Credit: The Onion.