This is completely unfair. I really think that I should be allowed to wear my cape to the funeral.
You and Sarah get to wear those cool little lace veils, which are essentially capes for your face. And don't get me started on that pillbox hat. It looks like just a fuckin' box on your head, which, in retrospect, is probably where it gets its name. Who are you, Jackie O? I just compared you to a cultural icon, but in a bad way. Owned.
Are you still going on about that? First of all, it was a trilby. I don't know how many times I need to clarify that for you. Secondly, and most importantly, everyone at the hospital loved it. Uncle Greg wanted to put it on, remember? But the nurses wouldn't let him because his skin was sloughing off? So yeah, Operation Wear A Trilby To The Severe Burn Ward was actually a complete success.
Here's me right now: "Good day, mother. I hope things are going well. If it pleases you, I intend to wear my extremely fashionable cape to Uncle Greg's funeral. Before you object, let me present you with several irrefutable points in a calm and rational fashion."
Here’s you: "AH! BLURG BLARG BLURG! HITLER WORE A CAPE! MY SON IS A FREAK! YOU'VE BROUGHT SHAME ON THIS FAMILY! AH! BLURG BLARG BLURG!"
There's nothing "morbid" or "thoughtless" about wearing a cape to Greg's funeral. I'll be wearing a new cape, not the one that caught on fire when I stood next to the stove for too long. This one is inflammable. Or, wait, that means it can still catch on fire? Infireable. It's infireable.
Oh, like you would have done anything different. My cape was on fire, mother, so yes, I whipped around in a frenzy. Yes, Greg was standing there. Yes, the cape got caught on his face. Yes, mistakes were made. But it's all in the past now. We've been over this. Aunt Beth agreed not to press charges. I'm wearing the cape, and I'm going to walk into the church and dramatically swish it around. People will love it. There will be applause, at a funeral, because of my...capeabilities. You do not know how long I've been waiting to use that.
"You wouldn't want somebody doing that at your funeral, now would you?" Uh, earth to mom, I'd be dead. So yeah, I wouldn't give a shit. Duh. And, again, we've been over this before too. I'm not having a boring old funeral. I want you to heave my corpse out of a moving car just like in cinematic masterpiece Bad Boys II. It's all laid out in the instructional video I emailed you, "Life Without Your Handsome Son."
You know what? Fuck this. I'm wearing the cape and you can't stop me. I can fold it up and use it as a seat cushion, it encourages me to walk quickly, so it billows out behind me, and it looks good as hell. It's like Uncle Greg always screamed, "YOUR CAPE IS ON FIRE!" No, mom, he was speaking literally and metaphorically. If it makes you feel any better, I'll toss my cape onto the casket as it's being lowered into the ground. It's what Greg would have wanted if he were still alive to see his own funeral, Tom Sawyer style. You're goddamn right I just used a literary allusion in my cape argument. Now, what's the food situation gonna be like at the wake?
Stefan J. is a writer living in Vancouver. You can read his personal blog here and follow him on Twitter here.
