Open Letter to my Cousins

Death is a tragedy, and death by bear attack probably even more so. We can't blame the bear, it seems to me. It's a bear, and it's made for killing people. In no way am I making light of the tragedy of a bear attack.

Let it be said, though, that if I have to go before my time, and I really don't want to, I hope it's something like a wild animal attack. Or a piece of a satellite whose orbit has decayed. Spontaneous combustion ... something like that. Something people will kind of laugh about in an embarrassed way.

I mention the bear attack because of this tragic event.

Please follow the link and watch the clip.

So why am I addressing my cousins, one of whom might actually read this? Because, moy cousins, I hereby grant you the opportunity to work a few product/website endorsements into any interview you give about the event (which again, I'm hoping is a piece of space junk hitting me at the speed of light). I like how the victim's cousin handled this.

(If you didn't sit through that whole video, check out the piece from about 4:30 onward.) The way he worked the name of the website into the conversation twice, shoehorned it in, seemed a little awkward to me. He should have just hollered it out as a non sequitur: "blahdeblah DOT.COM, BABYBEE! WHOOOOOOO!"

Cousins, if you're going to tout a business in a Today show interview, please do it as tastefully. Just wear a logoed t shirt or something, or do it like the subliminal guy on SNL. That's how I'd want to be remembered.

Also, if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to be cremated and have my ashes stored in my thermos. It seems poetically just somehow. Then maybe it can be passed around to whoever wins it through some contest each year, like the Stanley Cup.