I was feeling a little glum one day a few weeks ago, and I started moaning (via email) to DJ Kelly about how when I die nobody's gonna come to my funeral, etc. etc. boo-hoo-hoo, and this is what she replied:
Your fucking funeral would be so humongous that I shudder to think about how annoying it would be if you died. I would organize the memorial service, of course, and do my best to keep out spotlight-seeking mother-in-laws. There would be every WFMU person there, including some you hate, and rabid fans hoping to claw their names into your coffin. Your death would inspire copy-cat suicides by at least two Listeners. The mayor of your tiny Upstate town would declare a special moment of silence at the dog park, and Baxter would get a special little pallbearer’s outfit and sit on top of your coffin during the procession through town, howling in pain. I would go to the NY Times with a gun and force someone there to write an entire full-page obituary about you and your legacy, if only in order to make you turn over in your grave. Afterward, I would visit you at your gravesite on top of some sunny little hill on a peaceful slope somewhere in Westchester. And your headstone would be engraved with "May God Bless," with a picture of your face that you would never recognize.
Don't die or I'll kill you.
I just want to point out that I do not "hate" anyone at WFMU. Certainly not.
Thanks for reading my funeral plans, and may God bless.