Facebook And The Looming Death Of Friends

It's been a long time since I was in high school. Most of the time since then, of course, we didn't have the computers, the internet -- and certainly we didn't have the current social media sites. The one I'm thinking of is Facebook.

So, being there, we've been touching base again with old high school friends, and some who weren't exactly friends, but the times are different decades later. There they are, a bunch of old folks. I check the yearbook once in a while to see who I'm dealing with, because, to a certain extent, they look like that still in my mind.

There's been a bunch of classmates die. Not ones I've known on Facebook though. But at the class reunion, the last one, we had a moment of silence for a whole list of people.

Now I know someone on Facebook from my class who could very well die. She's got enough wrong with her, serious cancer issues. The thing here, though, is that I'm not friends with her personally on Facebook, but I know a couple of people who are friends, who say what's going on.

It's weird on lots of levels. Maybe the weirdest is that I know anything about it at all. Let's say technology had been different. No Facebook. And she dies. She would've been just like the others on the list at the reunion. I didn't know any of them were sick and dying till I got to the reunion. And I wouldn't have known about this woman.

So we're all getting in touch with each other just in time to watch each other die.

Visiting The Cemetery

I was out tonight with the dog and decided to buzz by one of the local cemeteries and check in on some friends of mine buried there.

I left the dog in the car so she wouldn't be desecrating any graves in her own special way. I think that's wise.

And there were my friends' graves, looking good. I got out and looked at the tombstone, thinking of the passage of time since they died, and thinking over the things we shared when they were alive. It's hard to believe, sometime, the passage of time, and how fast it seems to go.

Then on my way out, I almost stopped at another old friend's grave. I believe she died in 2005. I got very close but didn't want to turn the car off and walk over. So I just looked in the general direction but couldn't see the tombstone. Next time!

There's a lot of interesting tombstones. A lot of them have seen better days. Like the folks under them.

Looking For An Old Friend

I had a friend 30 years ago. She has a fairly rare name, going by the Google incidences of it.

I found one in the same town we lived in. I called and got a voice mail. The voice didn't sound like hers. So that might be a dead end. Unless it's a secretary, someone else in charge of doing the voice mails. Or maybe her voice is different. I figured I'd recognize it even after 30 years.

I'm a little nervous contacting someone like that out of the blue. But my intentions are good, to reconnect. After all, we live in a Facebook world where I'm seeing friends from 30 years ago all the time. (And their boring lives ... like mine.)

Another guy I knew years ago died, which I just heard about today. The rest of the class (a tiny minority) want to do some kind of memorial. This guy I literally haven't seen for 35 years but I do remember him even though we weren't close.

Faked His Death?

Has there been any speculation yet that possibly Michael Jackson faked his own death?

I haven't looked around to see, but it seems like someone would be saying that by now. First, his ex father-in-law (Elvis) of course faked his death back in '77. And at some point while MJ was in the Presley family, he probably got together with Elvis, who told him how it's done.

You figure, MJ was reportedly $400 million in debt and was apparently continually the subject of one lawsuit after another, who would have greater reason to fake his own death? Hasn't it been the case that he has used disguises of one kind or another to try to keep a low profile?

He's sitting in a motel watching all the coverage on TV. Is it still on? I haven't watched TV for a couple days.

As far as I know he faked his own death. As in the case of Elvis, I haven't personally seen the body.

Don't Forget Ed

I've been thinking about Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson ... but I don't want to forget Ed ... Ed McMahon.

What can I say about Ed McMahon? Basically I used to watch the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson and Ed was always there, an able partner to Johnny. No one who ever watched it can forget his big old laugh, like everything Johnny said was hilarious (and it usually was.)

Humor was slightly different back then, with lots of drinking jokes, and I think some insult humor, like against Doc Severinsen, with his flashy clothes. Ed was the victim of the drinking jokes, which he always took with great humor.

Probably the most famous recurring sketch was the Great Carnak routine, and Ed was great on this. He had some room to stretch on this routine.

I know he's been in bad health lately, some weird things about him in the news. But now he's passed on, so whatever problems he had are over.

Memorial Day

One of the days for the dead is here. Let's see, the others are Halloween, Veteran's Day (to a certain extent), and what else? I guess that's it. Aren't there like two Veteran's Days, one in November and one some other time?

I always have to remind myself about Memorial Day. It's for all the dead, even though sometimes you see things associated with it having to do with veterans, military dead. I think it started out that, and then the other more generalized dead started begging attention. Now they all get one big service. The veterans over at the courthouse, the other dead tagging along, saying, "Me too."

It's OK being dead, I guess. We who are able to read at the present moment aren't dead, of course. But there was a time when we weren't here. So that probably qualifies as something. Billions of years passed just-like-that, and it was all the same to you. Now you celebrate one year anniversaries, five year anniversaries, and like that. Fortieth anniversary, Fiftieth anniversary, that's where you're in the paper, the man perhaps three feet taller than the woman, or vice versa, and your kids have a big party for you. Then it's over with, a few more years of dribbling and you're dead.

Can you picture your own death? That's an interesting exercise. Going along - huff huff, breathe, cough, spit, rattle, rattle, swab out his mouth, wet his lips, punch the morphine button, oops, need to wait two minutes, how's he doing?, keep your voice down, - no change. Somewhere in there it's psychedelic. "Go to Jesus!" a nurse counsels, not exactly her business.

Dear dad is surrounded by preachers, four preachers at his bedside, and another coming in like a football player. An apostle stops by for a visit, the request is written on a paper, the prayer is offered, the paper is torn and thrown away. The job is done -- no more need to pray -- and dad dies. Just like he should, being so sick.

It's not like you're going to survive anyway, so as you leave this mortal plane, remember, you'll always have Memorial Day!