Anubis Drives a Tan Suzuki Week 6: A day late and an update short.

Anubis Drives a Tan Suzuki Week 6: A day late and an update short.

            No updates this week again. School work took up most of my time last week and my interview subject fell ill. These hick-ups and lulls in activity along the way are to be expected. Rome wasn’t built in a day and >insert here some other cliché that follows disappointment.<

 I am fast becoming aware that most of the work that will be done on this project will have to take place in the few breaks from school and in the 4 months leading up to the start of the project. It has also occurred to me that it might be a good idea to have backup funeral homes in each state just in case the main one backs out for whatever reason. I never thought this was going to be easy and if it was, it probably wouldn’t be worth doing, right?

On the subject of Romance

I am willing to bet good money that no one ever got into the Funeral Industry “for the chicks” or if they did, left the profession quickly, or changed their priorities. I haven’t read any national statistics or anything, but based on my own experience, being a funeral director isn’t exactly a turn-on to the fairer sex. On more than one occasion I’ve had the mood on a date completely hit a wall or take a downward trajectory when I mentioned what I did for a living or what my associates degree was in. Being able to get full preservative distribution into a corpse with a compromised vascular system and/or being able to successfully upsell a casket, perhaps unsurprisingly, isn’t what most women look for in a perspective mate, at least, not in my experience.

            I’ve often wondered why, as a marginally educated man in my late twenties, I’m less successful in the romance department than I was as a high school dropout in my mid-twenties, working 70 hours a week for at or just over minimum wage.

Was it because 40 of those hours were spent working at an adult novelty store? Maybe. Was it because I was 50 lbs. lighter and looked 10 years younger back then? Probably. Is it because now I’m a glaring reminder of mortality and/or I remind most people of the faceless strangers in suits and ties that ran around in the background at Nanna’s memorial service? Nanna, the kindest and most gentlest person from their childhood? Who was all summer days, warm cookies, holiday dinners, warm embraces, and the pure innocence of childhood personified? Who they miss more than anything in the world? Who’s death marked the point in either adolescence or young adulthood when they realized that life is sometimes cold and unforgiving? The moment that it truly and permanently sunk in that they, and everyone they have ever loved or cared about, will die someday? Something tells me I shouldn’t rule it out.

I had someone tell me once that they had a friend who was a funeral director and that this friend told people he stocked shelves at the Gap rather than tell people he was a funeral director. He would lie to prevent the possibility of an awkward moment. I just can’t ever see myself doing that. Not only because I find it hard to lie to people, but simply because I find this profession just too fascinating (surprise, surprise given my present pursuit, right?), even if in doing so, it only serves to perpetuate my serial bachelorhood.

That’s it for now. I was planning on sharing some of the really awkward moments I’ve encountered either telling people where I worked or when people remembered where and in what context they first met me, but how else would I keep you all coming back? That is if anyone is even reading any of these.

That’s all for now.

Like last time, if you have any questions, concerns, suggestions, spelling or grammatical corrections (how will I ever learn if no one ever says anything), words of support or encouragement, confessions of love, hate-filled rantings of utter distain, or anything else for me, do not hesitate to email me at funhomeambo@gmail.com.

I’ll post a new one of these every week. Feel free to e-mail me and call me a loser if I don’t live up to my self-imposed deadline. Thank you, Charmane for keeping me motivated this week.

Hope you enjoyed it and I thank you for reading all of this or skipping to the end, whichever is the case.

Johnathan Hove