Now that Tiger Woods has decided to listen to his doctor and have knee surgery, the TV networks that are televising the next group of PGA championship events are cringing at a 29% drop in ratings, due to what is called "The Tiger Effect". It's the drop (or gain) in TV ratings that occurs when Tiger Woods is either involved or not involved in the tournament. There's a 29% swing that I am sure the sponsors of the British Open are really pissed about.
Meanwhile, hundreds of people showed up for Tim Russert's funeral and viewing over the past week.
Whenever I see a large turnout for a funeral, I think "You won't get ten people to show up for my funeral," partly because I'm not having one and partly because I don't think you could assemble a group of people who are of the opinion that I am a person who is universally loved, admired and respected enough for them to say, "How are we ever going to survive without him?"
The gang at NBC (who is probably televising the British Open) is thinking that right now. They're trying to figure out how they can replace Russert on Meet the Press and how they will handle his departure, the effects of which are reaching into the fourth day.
That's about three days more than I figure the effects of my departure would last. Partly because I don't think there's a universal opinion of my fellow man's love and partly because I think that the death ceremony (viewing, wake and funeral) is a giant waste of time and (most of all) money. They're made for the living and the profit of the people who make a living off of our guilt. You wouldn't want to disrespect the memory of your loved one would you? Maybe, if I thought that they weren't in a better place and they didn't care once they shoved off this mortal coil.
I might cremate my cat and keep his ashes in a little urn someplace. As for me, I'd prefer that my remains be scattered in the wind and left for birds nests or landfill.
A lot of energy is wasted trying to figure out who is going to "replace" someone, while they forget that the person they are replacing was a replacement to begin with. It's a giant cycle. One replaces another and life goes on. Tim will be missed and Tiger will stop playing eventually, but their replacements will come and the world will go on, just as it did before them.
It's called mortality, and while it seems harsh in the wake (pun intended) of a death, it's part of the cycle of life. We live and die. We shake a tree and 20 people fall out to replace us. None of us are irreplaceable, no matter how important we think we are, or how important our employers think we are.
Face it folks, they were here before us and there will be new ones after we're gone. We aren't all that important.
5 comments:
Man, that sounds bitter! Medically speaking a clear indication for an immense lack of hugs and kisses.
(Most) humans seem to have this phsychological need to bury the loved ones in a special place where you can return to and mourn in silence.
Yeah, death is a touchy subject. That was probably a little bitter, and I thought about that last line, which is rather harsh, but it's mostly about me.
Funerals are for the living, but I've never been at ease with the ceremony, since going through one with my father when I was 9. I figured that was enough of them for one life and I don't need them to remember people and don't feel the need to have a big ceremony.
They're along the lines of weddings, where people place a monetary value on the ceremony and its pomp when it's the act that is the real issue.
I view funerals as i view weddings. Waste of money. You are just as dead and just as married no matter if you spend three thousand or thirty thousand.
In the physical since i am replaceable, but i'll tell you you will never find another ME. :D
My funeral, i want it it cheap... simple and i want a dance party instead of one of those horridly boring 'dinners'.
xoxoxox
Of course I meant "psychological need".
I would distinguish between a funeral and the need for a grave.
When I was at my dad's funeral, I wanted to punch the priest's nose for all the phoney things he said about my father. But of course I didn't do it - my mom would have felt embarrassed. Then the church choir sang "Wenn ich einmal soll scheiden" (it's from Johann Sebastian Bach), and it was so well-sung that it made me feel in balance again.
But it wasn't until the moment when they lowered the coffin into the pit that I could let go of my dad. I think this ritual does make sense.
Of course, I was 27 then, but you were just a kid. I could imagine that this was one of the toughest experiences in your whole life.
i dont care what you say-i am important and i will be missed. if not by you, but someone. most likely firestarter5, but i dont care what you say-you'll miss me cause like it or not, i'm your friend and that makes me important.
but i want cremated. throw me in a pretty glass jar with a tight lid and let's roll.
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