It never occurred to us that this was kind of a sick request. But death was never black suits or dreary organ music. We're an odd group of kids, we children of casket salesmen. Having caskets around all the time makes death seem like a pleasant, accommodating roommate. It also takes the mystery out of existentialist pursuits.
Death is a final curtain.
No encores - just pick up the stage and check out. One group's parents try to pry open the curtain, while the other's let it close with tempered applause. Seeing the curtain close so many times makes the show all the more immediate. While my friends gnaw on pop tarts and fingernails, I head out for a hike. Batesville Casket Company and the Casket's Salesman's Way have done more than cover my tuition and car payments.