Just in time for Halloween, I discovered my own grave today. Apparently I died in November 1918, age 31, and am buried in some little town in Pennsylvania. Sluggo and I are planning a road trip to go visit Dead Me very soon. If you'd like to find Dead You, then I recommend searching your own name at FindAGrave.com, one of my favorite websites. (My thanks to Find a Grave Member Beth for locating Dead Me, and to Patty Matthews for the photo of Nanticoke Cemetery.)
People usually think of cemeteries as peaceful places. Or maybe not, maybe they think of cemeteries as creepy repositories for dead, rotting corpses. Either way, I don't think most people think of the cemetery as the place to go for some hot hetero action. But that is because most people do not live in South Carolina, home of Roland Corning, 66, the former deputy assistant attorney general. Mr. Corning became a
former etc. when he was found in a cemetery with an 18-year-old stripper, some Viagra, and a bag of sex toys. He claimed he was on his "lunch break," and I suppose he just must have grabbed the wrong bag—you know, he accidentally took the one with the crusty black strap-on instead of the one with the ham sandwich. Plus, he's in
South Carolina, home of Governor Mark Sanford, who prefers "hiking the Appalachian Trail" to "hanging out in the cemetery with barely legal strippers." Also that douchebag who heckled the President is from South Carolina, and who knows what he's been up to. I guess if you want to have sex outdoors with old white guys, South Carolina is the place to go. South Carolina, home of the Gamecocks! South Carolina's got it goin' on!
Christmas Contest Update: Okay, so the special Disney's Christmas Carol AmTrak train was in Grand Central today because it's the day before Halloween, and I went through it mostly just because it was there and I think it's interesting the way the "property" has gone from being
A Christmas Carol to
Dickens' A Christmas Carol to
Disney's A Christmas Carol, and just before the exit from the train there were 4 people in Victorian costumes singing "Jingle Bell Rock" because that is what counts as a Christmas carol nowadays, I guess. But our contest is to be the first person to hear
Christmas music being played in a store and I don't think being subjected to anachronistic performers on a marketing train counts. I did notice stores in Grand Central with all the Christmas stuff up, making this the first year I have ever seen totally Christmas-themed store windows before Halloween. Surely the Christmas music will not be far behind. As soon as you hear Christmas music in a store, email me at bronwync@wfmu.org. The winner will receive some not-yet-determined prize.
Thanks for reading my blogpost this time, and Happy Halloween.
Dia de los Angelitos Update: Not My Grave. The Nanticoke Historical Society has a helpful list of locals who died in the 1918 influenza pandemic, among them "Bronwyn Charleton (Mrs. John)." And the Wilkes-Barre Record of May 17, 1905 has an announcement of the marriage of Bronwyn Davis of Nanticoke to John Charleton of Alden. So it looks like that Nanticoke grave belongs to Bronwyn Davis Charleton--close, but not my grave.
Hmm, sounds like you died in the influenza epidemic. Try to be more careful this time around.
Posted by: Listener #109577 | October 31, 2009 at 11:11 AM
Re: Xmas music, I was in Bed Bath Beyond (Rt 46) 2 weekends ago and heard some -- but I don't think it would really count because it was coming from a display of Christmas CDs, not really over the store speakers. Still kind of sad.
Posted by: Brian C. | October 31, 2009 at 12:19 PM
Holy cow! I just tried to find my own dead me, and the second result listed was born on my birthday! Yikes! (One year later, but still pretty creepy.) b. Jun. 4, 1965 d. Oct. 1, 1965, poor little fella.
Posted by: Brian C. | October 31, 2009 at 12:23 PM
A lot of people named me are buried in cemeteries in France circa 1914-1918
Posted by: SIV | October 31, 2009 at 08:21 PM
hi bronwyn! i didn't see you at the record fair!. my favorite gravestone names are Freelove Shotwell (in north plainfield) and Experience Shay (way up rte 206 past stokes state forest). so far no one with my name registers with a stone. i won't be the first either since i am giving orders to have my remains put in an anonymous compost heap.
Posted by: listener monica | November 04, 2009 at 08:44 AM